#I’ll post it by itself too I guess | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr has 411 employees.

#I’ll post it by itself too I guess

kilometresrufflefuck · 1 year

Photo

in honour of twitter violently lowering itself into a pit of lava, i’ve started saving some of my favourite tweets from my twitter account in case it all goes down. i guess i’ll start posting them here on tumblr in chunks - the ace attorney ones go here, though i know i haven’t been all that active lately!

this is also a heads up that i’ve made a new general blog @corviiids for all the yammering that’s been on twitter up until now. if you’re INTERESTED in yammering, you’re very welcome to come over and follow me there too.

#twitter #ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #narumitsu #wrightworth #klavier gavin #apollo justice #klapollo #kay faraday #trucy wright #maya fey #rookposting #<-- that's my new original post tag

9K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

hiii!! i love your writing so much i think i’ve read every single thing you’ve ever posted. i’m genuinely obsessed 🫶🫶 i was wondering if you could write something where the reader and remus have been dating/talking for a little while and she hasn’t had her first kiss yet and she starts to get nervous everytime she thinks he’s abt to kiss her and she runs away?? i’m ngl this is based off of very real events in my life 😭😭

i love you so much!! hope your doing amazing

Hi gorgeous, thanks so much! This is soooo relatable of you haha, I have a library of hilarious stories about my very hyper friend who kept literally springing away from guys she liked who were trying to kiss her, but it does make for some very interesting (and often very sweet) conversations!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

On your first official date with Remus, the two of you went to a drive-in movie. You kept your seatbelt on the entire time.

You only realized halfway through, mentally kicking yourself for being so jittery you’d lost all sense of normalcy, but by then it felt too late. It’d be awkward to take it off halfway through the movie, try to play that off as casual. You’d made your bed. You didn’t unbuckle until Remus dropped you off at your house at the end of the night.

On your second date, you’re determined to be less uptight. You want him to know that you really do like him, even if your nerves make you jump and flinch whenever he gets close. At the Italian restaurant, it’s difficult to find a pasta dish without garlic, but you manage it. You’re a girl with an agenda. The two of you split a chocolate cake for dessert. It’s delicious, probably, though you can’t focus on much besides Remus’ story and the way his mouth moves as he tells it. How he tucks one corner of his bottom lip between his teeth when he’s trying to hide a smile.

You have to hope belatedly that you haven’t somehow smeared chocolate all over your face while eating. You’re not at all confident you would’ve noticed.

It’s a short walk back to your place, and you manage to jabber the whole way, a masterclass in self-sabotage. Remus doesn’t seem to mind, his hand light and cordial on your back as he guides you up the steps to your door. You savor the touch. It takes every ounce of willpower you have not to spring away.

“It sounds really interesting,” he says graciously as you finish your tangent about the book you’ve just read. “I’ll have to pick up a copy.”

“I can lend you mine,” you offer. “Maybe I can bring it the next time we hang out?” Your voice tips up hopefully at the end of the question, and warmth touches your cheeks.

A similar pinkening spreads across Remus’ freckles. He smiles at you, the scar across his lip stretching. You’re spellbound.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” You might be imagining it, but you could swear his eyes flit to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says. “I really like talking to you.”

Your voice is soft. “I like talking to you, too.”

He takes a step towards you, and it’s like your muscles stage a coup. You take an involuntary step backward, a smile plastering itself uncomfortably on your face.

“Thanks for everything,” you say brightly. “Goodnight!”

You spin and go for the door handle, and you’re nearly inside before you hear Remus’ quiet “Wait.”

You turn. Lead in your bones.

Remus is holding his palms up as if to show you he’s got no weapon.

“Sorry,” he says, “I just wanted to…you know I’d never do anything you didn’t want me to, right?”

You’re frozen stiff.

“Like, even if I thought there was a chance you didn’t want to, I would never…” He shakes his head, looking lost. Guilt settles like a stone in your gut. “I guess I’m a bit confused. If you don’t want to do anything, that’s completely fine, but sometimes it seems like you want me to kiss you, and then you don’t…”

“Rem,” you say. You feel like you’re breathing through a straw. “Remus, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart, it’s not your fault—”

“No, it is. It’s not—I don’t want you to think I’m scared of you or anything. I’m not, it’s just, I get skittish.” You can’t make yourself look at his eyes, your gaze stuck just shy of his chin. Your face feels aflame. “It’s not you. I’m just nervous.”

“Oh.” It’s a soft thing, more exhale than anything. Then his fingers curl under your chin, tipping your face up. “Well, you can relax, love. I was never going to make a move unless I got a clear signal from you first. But we can just take that off the table completely, if you’d like.” He gives you a small, gentle smile. “I only want you to feel comfortable.”

Your heart zings right up into your throat. “I do feel comfortable,” you blurt. “I don’t want it off the table.”

Remus’ eyebrows flick upwards. “You don’t?”

“No,” you murmur, bashful.

His eyebrows come slowly back down, puckering slightly as he tries to figure you out. His eyes narrow until his lashes kiss. His tongue pokes into his cheek, just a little. You miss nothing. You find yourself taking in a quiet breath, steeling yourself.

You move across that tiny bit of air between you and find him there waiting.

It’s everything you could’ve hoped for and yet startlingly simple. Remus’ lips are warm and soft, pressing into yours with an intensity that you suspect is nonetheless restrained for your benefit. He tastes like chocolate cake.

His mouth meanders over to the corner of your lips, granting one quick peck to your cheek before making its way back to the center of your mouth, reverent. He backs away slowly, easing you out of it.

“Wasn’t really expecting that,” he admits.

“Me neither. Was it alright?” Your voice is a bit breathy. “I’ve never done that before.”

For a moment, he’s quiet.

“That was your first kiss?”

You swallow, rubbing your lips together as you nod.

“Sweetheart,” he grins, “you’re a natural.”

A giggle spurts out of you, dizzy with the taste of him and the novelty of it all. “You mean it?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” He mimes drawing a cross over his heart. It occurs to you that you both seem infinitely more at ease than you have since dinner. The corner of Remus’ bottom lip goes between his teeth, his cheek dimpling. “I mean, there is something to be said for practice, though.”

You don’t fight your own grin; it comes out in full force. “Mm, I think I’ve heard something about that. Practice makes…defective, right? Something like that.”

“C’mere.” Remus rolls his eyes at you, but as his arms wrap around you his smile mirrors yours.

653 notes · View notes

lovingseventeen · 1 year

Note

How would svt react to you skipping your meals because you're too engrossed in the thing you're doing? 🤔

svt reacts to you accidentally skipping meals

a/n: thank you thank you all for 900! so glad our community on this blog is gradually getting larger! paragraph format for this post bc some of these scenarios got a bit longer than i anticipated.

seungcheol:

oh he is not happy, but he’s far more concerned than he is mad. he sent you a text around noon asking what you were up to and you told him: just a paper. when he comes over you greet him quickly at your door, but your hug is far too short when you’re already hurrying back to your seat.

“i’ll make food or something after, let me just finish this one paragraph!” you tell him, voice already getting father and farther away from him. he follows you back to your room, plopping onto your bed as you type away at your laptop. he’s scrolling on his phone in the quiet room when your stomach grumbles loudly.

he looks over the first time, easing his head to see that you were still working. then, not even five minutes later it happens again.

“hey, when was the last time you ate today?”

you pause, “i don’t know? i had a bagel from breakfast?” then you return back to your paragraph

he’s focused on you now, propping himself up on his elbows. “wait, so you didn’t eat lunch?”

“i guess not…” you reply, half paying attention to him as you reread your words

he’s shifting from your bed and you see him leave your room from your peripheral. maybe thirty minutes later he’s coming back into your room to gently grab a hold of your wrist.

“cmon, you need to eat, i just ordered food so you don’t have to do anything.”

“wait but this part needs-”

“baby,” he says gently, his other hand turning your chin to look at him, “is this due tonight?”

“no?”

“then can you please take a break? it’s not good for you to skip meals you know.”

he looks so concerned and he has brought to your attention that you actually are hungry. your stomach feels like it's shrinking into itself, making you feel quite empty.

“okay cheol, you’re hungry too, aren’t you?” you say, getting up to walk to your kitchen with him.

“i am, but you’re the priority right now, y/n.”

jeonghan:

you can't escape his light scolding whines.

“ayy,” he says, eyebrows furrowed when he sees the remnants of your iced coffee, your supposed “breakfast”, which only consists of melted iced now, “this is all you’ve had today?”

“you know this isn’t good for you…” he trails on.

before you know it, he’s tapping away on his phone and browsing for where to order from immediately. he doesn’t need to ask you because he knows you so well already.

when the food comes in, he’s opening the containers and setting them in the table near you, allowing the smell of the hot food to finally make you notice the growl in your belly

to speed up the process he’ll literally grab the takeout menu that comes with the food and fan the smell towards you. or better yet, he’ll set up an actual fan to waft the smell of food at you at a higher velocity. “jeonghan turn that off! the food is gonna get cold!”

“so you’ll eat,” he determines proudly.

joshua:

eyes got so wide at the realization that you haven’t eaten all day. he immediately tries to find the quickest snack to get something into your stomach.

i’m a believer in him cutting up fruits for you. then when he notices that you haven’t touched the fruits next to you, he’ll go so far as to feed you.

“c’mon, eat this, babe” he coaxes, gently prodding at your lips with the cubed melon on the fork. will tap your cheek with a finger to signal you to open your mouth if his voice isn’t enough to grab your attention

he’s still cheeky though so at some point he’ll give you your little tap only for you to open your mouth to nothing.

“hey! i thought you were feeding me” you pouted.

he rubs the top of your head, giving in immediately.

“looks like i’m spoiling someone here a little too much” (he can’t help it anyway).

jun:

it’s already 7pm and he returns to your apartment to see you in the same position he left you in. you were hunched over on your desk, still hyper focused on this little lego set you were building.

“junnie! look i’m almost done!” you exclaim, beckoning him to walk over to see your work.

“hey,” he says in his deep “extra manly voice”, “have you not eaten yet.” his arms are crossed but he softens when you proudly show him your bouquet of lego flowers.

“i only have one more flower left, but isn’t this so cute?” you gush, holding the vase up to him.

“they’re pretty,” he agrees, tucking your hair behind your ear, “i’ll be right back as you finish up.”

“okay” you hum, gathering the pieces for the last flower

he walks away and within 15 minutes, you can smell something cooking in the kitchen. he comes back to set a bowl of (quick but delicious) fried rice next to you.

“here, c’mon, eat up babe”

“there’s still some more..” you begin, but he pushes a spoonful of rice into your mouth (he blew on it first, don't worry).

“you can finish it after you eat though, right? you haven’t eaten all day.. you should eat while it’s warm” he encourages.

“true, you did make it really good today,”you decide. “i’m very lucky to have you.”

he smiles at your words but returns to his “ver stern man voice”, “you are. so to keep me you better make sure you don’t skip your meals again.” 😤

hoshi:

he pulls a very dramatic romeo and juliet move.

he facetimed you while he was getting driven home since he wouldn’t be able to see you in person that week.

“did you see the food we ordered for the staff today! we should go there when i’m finally free, i want you to try their noodles” he rambled.

“sure let’s do that,” you smiled, happy to see his excitement.

“did you eat dinner yet, baby?” he asked.

“dinner? oh wait, i didn’t have lunch” you thought out loud.

“you didn’t!” he exclaimed, head dropping back in his seat dramatically, “baby you shouldn’t do that!”

“i didn’t realize!” you laughed, rolling your eyes as his head was still tilted back, hand covering his face.

“how could my love forget to feed themselves?” he whined.

“soonyoung, i just got so invested in my paper!” you explained, “i wasn’t even hungry!”

“baby,” he says, now holding his phone very close to his face, “if you don’t eat i won’t eat.”

“what are you talking about!” you chuckled.

“it’s not fair to eat if you’re starving.”

“soonyoung, light of my life, my love, i didn’t purposefully skip lunch. please, you need to eat too, with all your dancing and horanghae-ing.” at the end of your sentence he can't help but give you his signature tiger paw hand gesture.

“promise you won’t forget again?”

“i will do my best,” you agree, lifting your own hand to horanghae back at him and he takes this promise very seriously.

wonwoo:

let out a soft, but audible gasp when he texted you at 4pm asking what you ate only to find out that it was nothing.

:0 that's not good he sent

i didn't even realize that lunch passed wonu

he left you on read, and you wondered if this was actually going to be an argument between the two of you even if it wasn't that big of a deal. at least, not that big of a deal to you.

you wait to see if he's just taking a moment to text you back. then thirty minutes later, two of your co-workers are bringing in cups of coffee and a bag full of sandwiches.

your phone buzzes in your back pocket soon after. your heart warms when you see that it's a message from wonwoo.

they told me it arrived, did you get it yet?

you're about to type your reply when he continues.

i know your team is probably busy so you can't fully sit and eat a bento lunch box, right? so i ordered sandwiches so you guys could eat and work if you had to

your co-workers are setting the food on your shared table and you can see the slight confusion on everyone's faces. "oh it's from wonwoo," you explain, "he sent food because i told him we skipped lunch today." you get a chorus of excitement from everyone and various responses of "tell him we said thanks!"

this is very sweet of you wonwoo, thank you <3 you made me (and my team) very happy :) you sent

i'm just glad you get to eat :) but try not to skip meals from now on please

i will try, love u (i'm going to devour a sandwich now)

woozi:

jihoon himself skips meals a little too regularly. he gets caught up in his studio and before he knows it, the sun has set and he hasn't eaten all day.

ohoho, but when he finds out that you haven't eaten all day he finds himself in a bit more of a panic than he ever would for himself. you called him after work, "do you want to get food when you get out? it was so busy at my job that i didn't even realize that i missed lunch."

"what? you didn't eat?" he asked, suddenly alert even though he was just starting to feel tired.

"yeah, i didn't even realize what time it was until all of our customers cleared out," you replied, "so do you wanna go out? i feel like i could eat a horse."

"yeah, let's go eat, you need to eat," he agreed, immediately getting ready to pick you up.

at the restaurant he encourages you to get whatever you want. even when you're just skimming the menu and you mutter, "huh, this looks interesting," he's telling you, "you want to get that? order it."

"i was just looking at it babe," you chuckle.

"you can get it if you want, you can get all of it if you want, i just want you to get full."

he's very attentive, further asking you what drink you want and if you want to get dessert after too.

dokyeom:

you're in the kitchen reading a book one day and he asks you, "do you want some ramen too? i'm hungry and i think this is all we have."

"i think i'll eat a little later, my book is starting to get interesting so i might read a couple more chapters," you reply.

"you sure?" he checks, walking over to you, "because it'd be bad if i took care of myself and let you starve, i'd be a bad boyfriend then."

he ran a hand through your hair as you chuckled, "you could never be a bad boyfriend, not when you're so sweet." he hums in response before walking back to the stove to check his boiling water.

eventually he finishes making his ramen and he goes into the living room to watch something while he eats. (he'd eat in the kitchen but he doesn't want to be loud when you're reading). the warm soup makes him feel so cozy after and he really just passes out on the couch while his show keeps playing.

dokyeom wakes up about two hours later, much past lunch time. he wanders back into the kitchen a little groggy to see if you're still there. he notices that not much has changed since he fell asleep other than that fact that you're sitting cross-legged on the chair.

"did you eat yet, baby?" he asks.

you momentarily pause your reading, "hm? oh, i guess not."

"huh?" he gasps, glancing at the clock. "baby.."

"i'm in the middle of a really good chapter!" you explain.

"but baby you gotta eat," he pouts. "how 'bout this, if i run out to buy a couple things and i cook it, will you put your book down?"

"you don't have to go through all that," you tell him, "i could just have ramen-"

"no, no, you can't eat that when you're been starving all day," he disagrees, "i'm going to give you some nutrition." he's already walking out of the kitchen to get dressed to go out.

you fully put your book down by now, "i'll come with you to the store. i feel bad if i make you do that all by yourself."

"you can keep reading if you want," he tells you genuinely, "i don't mind, i just want you to eat something good." this is one of those moments where you realize how sweet your boyfriend really is.

"i'll come with you," you confirm, "and let's cook together too, hm?"

he can never say no to you. plus, he loves your company. "i guess we do make a good team, yeah," he smiles.

mingyu:

immediately gets to cooking in the kitchen. he isn’t preparing just one dish either but a spread of food, from various side dishes of veggies to braised meat that goes so well with rice.

“you better eat all of this to make up for your lack of nutrients today” he huffed, sitting across from you after setting everything around you. he stands up again and he'll take the bookmark in your hand and put it into your book for you too.

“gyu you know i can’t eat all of this by myself,” you laughed, “but thank you for cooking, you know.”

"i know, just eat as much as you can, you shouldn't be on an empty stomach," he tells you, further pushing the dishes for you. when you try to offer him a bite, he won't open his mouth, pushing you spoon back towards you.

minghao:

so you were painting and you got so deep into groove that you didn't realize that three hours have passed and that your stomach is currently running on a cup of coffee.

"hi baby, i'm home," he announced as he entered your door.

he finds his way to you first to place a kiss on top of your head. "hi, hao," you hummed back, careful to keep your hand steady as you dragged your brush across your canvas. for a moment, the two of you stayed in silence to avoid disrupting your movement.

though what actually ended up interrupting the quiet was your stomach letting out a very loud growl.

"are you hungry?" he asked.

"i guess i am," you murmured, rinsing your paintbrush in water. "wait, now that i think about it, i don't think i ate lunch?"

"you didn't?" immediately his eyebrows are furrowed and you realize he probably has an incoming lecture already forming in his head. "you know you shouldn't skip your meals..."

"i know!" you explained, "but i just got so into this, i mean, i think this is in the running to become my favorite painting yet." when you wiped your cheek, you accidentally left a stroke of blue paint.

minghao, as caring as he is, crouches down and wipes off that paint with one of hi thumbs. "you know i love your creativity, and this painting looks great so far, it really does, but we can't have you passing out before you finish it, right?"

you smile at his comments as he continues, "can you take a break? eat something? it doesn't even have to be big meal but you should have something."

seungkwan:

he was appalled when he saw the breakfast he bought you still on the counter, untouched.

he walks into your room where you're working on a project for the nth hour. "what's this?" he asks, holding up the plastic bag of food.

"it's what you brought home this morning?" you replied, before immediately going back to you little diorama.

"and why is it not in your stomach?" he huffs, arms now crossed.

"uhh, i lost track of time?"

"unacceptable," is decides, but he walks over to you and breaks off bite-sized pieces of bread the bread he bought to personally feed you anyway.

"thankf-you" you mumbled back as he fed you.

"tsk, what you you do without me? starve?" he tutted (but the way he feeds you is still so gentle). he wipes off the crumbs from the corners of your mouth and asks you if you want anything else when you do finish the bread <3

vernon:

vernon drops his jaw in the most cartoonish way when he finds out.

"you haven't eaten yet?"

his (perfect) eyebrows knit together as he contemplates what to do, as you don't usually skip your meals. this wasn't exactly on his boyfriend-responsibilities bingo card.

"this isn't something you do regularly, right? or have i been missing this for a long time because that would be bad," he thinks out loud.

"vern, it's just today. i didn't even realize how much time passed," you explain.

"mm good to know it wasn't on purpose but i'll order something for you now," he decides, head quirking to the side as he scans his phone for nearby restaurants.

precious boy ends up ordering from two very different restaurants because he doesn't know which you'd prefer but he was a little panicked and figured: better safe than sorry. it's very weird when one bag of food comes to your house with burgers and fries and the other arrives with noodles and soup.

dino:

dino jokingly picks a fight with you when he finds out. you both wind up being a little loud, but not actually fully yelling.

you're surprised by him sitting a little ominously on your kitchen table despite the bags of freshly delivered food on it.

"is everything alright?" you ask.

"you!" he points, "you always take a cute picture of your lunch, so why didn't you have lunch today!"

"wow someone here is a detective, huh?" you chuckle, "you figured out i missed lunch from that?"

"this is serious y/n," he says, tone proving otherwise and fist coming down on the table with no actual force. "it's bad for you to miss lunch."

"okay, okay, yessir i understand i won't do it again," you joked, even putting your hand over your heart as a promise.

"you're not taking this seriously!" he whined.

"i am," you assured.

"no you're not!"

"chan! i thought you knew i missed lunch! i'm hungry and this food is getting cold!" it was your turn to whine now. immediately, he gave in, getting up to open the bags of food. he got a little too invested in his "scolding" and momentarily forgot that you actually had to eat.

1K notes · View notes

princesstaeille · 4 months

Text

Ob(li)vious

summary: taeyong is a really sweet guy, fun-loving, and a treat to be around. he gets along with everyone, everyone who isn’t you. you’re determined to change that.

pairing(s): taeyong x f!reader

genre(s): office!au, fluff, angst

warning(s): miscommunication, self-esteem issues (pls let me know if there are more)

wc: 3.7k

notes: this one goes out to all my rbf girlies ;-;. also inspired by this post. if you enjoyed reading, pls like/reblog and comment! thank you xxx

Taeyong looks away from his computer and at the stack of papers that landed on his desk with a startling thwack. His gaze trails from the documents to the woman who stares down at him firmly, jaw set, and lips pinched into a tight line.

“I finished the report for you since you hadn’t gotten around to it yet.” You say. “It’s due tomorrow, in case you forgot.”

You tell Taeyong this in the most nonchalant tone you can muster, ignoring the warm sensation in your face that almost feels like burning and the overall spiking body temperature that makes you wonder if someone decided to turn on the heat. You want to play it cool. Be the friendly, outgoing coworker who completes favors for others without prompting and brings a smile to another’s face, much like Taeyong himself. You want to give him that same kind of feeling that he gives to everyone else so badly, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes at him when he begins to…shake?

What? Why is he shaking?

“S-sorry, I must’ve forgotten.”

Sorry? That isn’t what you want to hear. You want to hear him thank you and gaze at you with gratitude sparkling in his eyes and that same sweet little smile he wears when he jokes with others in the break room. But you get an apology instead and no eye contact, and why is he shaking?!

Taeyong’s trembling only seems to worsen, and he looks at you wide with those big brown boba eyes. His mouth opens and shuts as he searches for a reply. “I-I guess I had too much coffee this morning, haha,” he eventually stutters and tries to smile, but all that results is a flimsy grimace.

Shoot. You didn’t mean to say that out loud, much less shout at him. But your gaze hardens as you watch his hands tremble, and you scoff, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as you return to your desk.

Stupid coffee.

“Uh oh, someone’s upset.”

You look up at Jihyo as she sets her lunch down beside you. Joy sits across from the two of you and nods in agreement. They look at you expectantly.

Heaving a sigh, you lift your head out of your arms and sit up completely. “It’s,” you pause and scan the cafeteria for wandering ears before looking back at Jihyo and Joy, “it’s Bubble Tea.”

“Again?” Joy asks and rolls her eyes, “I told you to just talk to him.”

You glare at her suggestion. “You say that like it’s so easy, but every time I try, he acts as if he’s seen a hideous troll and starts quivering in his boots.”

Jihyo snorts and takes a bite into her sandwich while watching you and Joy bicker. She notices how the scowl on your lips stretches, and your brows grow close. She wonders for a second whether she should separate the two of you before you can get any hits on each other. Then it dawns on her.

“Your face is the problem!”

“Excuse you?!”

Joy cackles.

Jihyo clears her throat and shakes her head. “Not like you’re ugly. You’re just…stern.”

“Mean.” Joy teases, and you glare at her once more.

“Your strong will physically shows itself. You have an assertive face.” Jihyo says proudly.

“You have RBF.” Joy clarifies.

“Okay…what should I do then?”

Joy perks up and claps her hands excitedly. “Dye your hair. Purple. Or blue.”

“Maybe change up your style. Wear something cute.” Jihyo suggests.

A frown settles on your lips as you study your current outfit. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing now?”

“It’s just so…serious. Like you mean business.”

“We work in an office.”

“And?”

You shake your head and steal a chip from Jihyo’s lunch, popping it into your mouth and ignoring her offended gasp. “I don’t think I’ll do that…it’s too much. I want him to like me, not me with purple hair and a new wardrobe.”

Both of them nod understandingly. “Of course,” Jihyo begins, “no point in chasing after someone who doesn’t want you as is.”

“Exactly. Don’t settle for a man who can’t handle your ‘assertive’ facial expressions! Bubble Tea’ll come around if he knows what’s good for him.” Joy winks.

The next day passes quicker than expected, and you already find yourself parting ways with Jihyo and Joy as you walk back to the main office. There are still a few minutes left of lunch, which explains why you see some of your coworkers huddled around Taeyong’s desk.

You hear a few murmurs and giggles that interrupt them and slowly approach the group to see what the fuss is about.

“So she’s completely oblivious. Just humming to herself as she gets ready to ski. Meanwhile, a massive grizzly bear,” Taeyong pauses and spreads his arms wide, “is just chasing her down, and she has no clue.”

Everyone laughs in disbelief, and they match Taeyong’s wide-eyed look.

You observe quietly, basking in the warm, carefree atmosphere from a few feet away. Then you remember a scene from the drama you watched last night, the one where the girl tells the guy a joke that’s entirely too cheesy. Still, he laughs anyway and looks down at her endearingly. Your heart skips a beat at the thought of the same happening to you.

So, you clear your throat and gain everyone’s attention. “Good thing it wasn’t a polar bear,” you say with a smile, “otherwise we’d be hearing this story on the news, haha.”

Crickets.

The smile on your lips falters when you’re met with silence and your coworkers’ looks that call you crazy. Guess they didn’t find it as funny as you did. You glance at Taeyong to gauge his reaction, but he acts like you’re not there, visibly tense and avoiding your gaze.

So, you go back to your desk.

Silence greets you as you walk through your apartment door, cold and lonely as always. You kick off your shoes and leave them strewn messily by the door, throwing your work bag down somewhere near them before making a tired stumble to the kitchen.

It’s like muscle memory. Reach into the freezer and grab a meal (doesn’t matter which), rip off the cardboard seal and slit (or aggressively stab) the plastic film, and throw it in the mic for five minutes while you wrestle your way out of your white button-up and black high-waisted pants that are a bit too tight but make your legs look nice.

You turn the TV to channel five, RV News with anchorwoman Bae Joohyun, and sit on the sofa with the piping hot tray in your lap, struggling to maneuver it so it won’t burn your thighs. You eat and stare at the raven-haired anchorwoman speaking about another corner store robbery gone wrong in that gentle honey voice of hers. She drones on about how the perpetrator used a water gun to intimidate the cashier. Still, you’re hardly listening as you wonder how someone can look so flawless, even on your grainy and broken 1986 Panasonic TV. Even the static fuzz that manages to peek through barely obstructs RV News anchorwoman Bae Joohyun’s ethereal beauty, and you wonder if she’s wearing a wig, hair so perfect with not a strand out of place. You wonder where she bought that lip tint as your teeth snag onto your own.

Your dinner goes cold, but you don’t notice when you lock eyes with the Kokubu Yurie poster that hangs above your bed. You wonder, as you admire her soft gaze and stylish flare in that red, oversized blazer, you wonder if a sweet song and magical electric guitar riff is what’ll get Taeyong to look at you and finally sweep you off your feet like in all those cheesy dramas you love to watch.

The food in your mouth turns to a sandpapery mush. You sit and wonder if you could cook—if you could make a hot meal, fresh from the oven and not a grocery shelf—if the smell of a home-cooked meal made with love is enough to lead Taeyong to you.

You wonder if you were more like all the leads in your favorite romances—timid, passive, unassuming—if you had a special twinkle in your eye or softer hair or a prettier smile, if that’s what it takes to enchant him like all the others. The food goes down your throat like gravel. You lose your appetite.

With a heavy sigh, you trudge your way through your bedtime routine and lie down, dreaming of a world where Taeyong doesn’t look at you like a deer in headlights.

Apprehensive eyes stare back at you as you study your appearance from your rearview mirror. Actually, those eyes stare at the bow clipped in your hair that you rummaged through your closet for; you weren’t even sure you had it. It’s a light peach bow, petite, with a white pearl at its center. It was cute enough, you decided at 5 AM when you were really contemplating buying box dye, but it was late and cold and you didn’t feel like getting robbed at water gunpoint, so you had to settle.

Your eyes flit to your lips, which are covered in a shimmery, sheer pink gloss you also found in your closet. You have to tell yourself multiple times not to chew on your lips, but at least they taste like strawberries.

You will away the uncertainty your reflection carries and sternly tell the knot in your stomach to unravel itself. Maybe this isn’t your usual look, but there’s nothing wrong with trying something new. You have nothing to lose, you think with firm resolve. But your fingers still tremble slightly as they smooth out the wrinkles in your outfit and reach for the car handle when you finally force yourself to walk into work.

Once you’re inside, you make a beeline for the break room. You can’t cook, but you can make a mean cup of tea, which has to count for something. The sweet scent of orange and honey wafts into the air once you lift the lid from the cup after steeping, and, with a satisfied smile, you march over to Taeyong’s desk.

You set the cup down and then straighten up. Your proud smile leaves you. You don’t want to be too obvious. “This should help with your shaking,” you state, then awkwardly add, “it’s my favorite.”

Taeyong’s eyes switch between you and the steaming tea beside him, wide with surprise. “Oh..! Thanks..?” He gingerly picks up the cup and takes a cautious sip.

You don’t mean to stare in anticipation, watching his every move, from how his fingers curl around the cup to how his tongue darts out to lick up any stray drops of tea. For a split second, you think you might’ve seen the corners of his mouth twitch upward, but you mistake it for a tremor.

Taeyong pales at the sight of your clenched fist.

“Drink it all.” You demand, pointing firmly at the cup in his hands.

“Yes—yes, ma’am.”

You ignore the crack in his voice as you stalk back to your desk.

The day goes as usual: you finish some paperwork, send out a few emails, and take a few not-so-subtle glances at Taeyong over your bulky computer screen. You’re shocked when you make eye contact a few times, though he always looks away as soon as you do, eyes blown wide like a little doe. But you note that he finished the tea. All of it.

Soon, 7 PM rolls around, and you’re ready to clock out. RV News anchorwoman Bae Joohyun is waiting for you on channel five. You gather all your belongings and sling your work bag over your shoulder with a small sigh. The lights in the office are dim; most people have already left for home, but you stayed a bit longer to tie up some loose ends. You think you’re the only one still in the office until you notice a warm light coming from one of the desks across from you.

Taeyong’s desk.

Biting the inside of your cheek only does so much to keep you from imagining this as a perfect moment from a romance drama starring you. You could stay and offer to help, get closer to the guy you’ve been after all this time, and finally have a chat, maybe exchange numbers! Or, you could go home and snuggle up in bed where Kokubu Yurie, your stuffed animals, and RV News anchorwoman Bae Joohyun wait listlessly to hear you complain about events that are unlikely to occur between you and your office crush, effectively saving you from any embarrassment and ultimately leaving you wondering ‘what if?’

“Hey, um…” you clear your throat as you approach Taeyong’s desk. “Need any help?”

His brown eyes look up at you briefly before returning to the hefty stack of papers before him, and he quickly shakes his head. “Oh, no! I–I got it, you don’t need to—to waste your time—”

Taeyong shuts up when an annoyed huff leaves your lips as you reach over to grab half the stack of papers.

“I’m doing this half.” You say in a tone that leaves no room for argument, and all Taeyong can do is nod dumbly.

It’s mindless work, and the two of you complete it in silence, slowly whittling down the stack. You barely even notice how you sit beside each other, only a shoulder apart.

“Hey.” You nudge Taeyong’s shin with the tip of your shoe. “Do you have a sticky note? One of the pages is missing.” You frown.

He doesn’t look up from his stack when he wordlessly hands you a stack of sticky notes. Cinnamoroll-themed sticky notes.

At first, you’re confused. Are…are these his? Did someone give them to him, like a child, or did he buy them with his own money? Your mouth gapes a little, but you're speechless. You draw a blank while the white, chubby puppy stares back at you.

“This…this is so cute.” You laugh, using your hand to cover the smile that spreads across your face. But then you notice the pen, the matching pen. “Oh my god, it writes in blue glitter ink…”

Taeyong glances up from the paper he’s scanning when he sees your shoulders shake from the corner of his eye. He initially thinks you’re crying, and his eyes fill with panic. But then he catches a glimpse of your upturned lips, and his breath hitches.

“...woah.”

“Hm?”

Taeyong finds himself smiling a bit, too. “I just…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that before.”

You stare back at him with a bemused smile and tilt your head. Never seen you do what before? You stop writing on the sticky note when you realize what he means. He’s never seen you smile before or laugh. He’s never seen you express joy. Your smile quickly drops.

What did he think you were? A soulless monster?

A stern glare replaces any softness left in your gaze as you stare down Taeyong’s paling form.

You both go back to working in silence.

It’s close to 9 PM when you and Taeyong finish the paperwork. You stand up from your seat and get in a much-needed shoulder stretch, dreaming of your soft pillow waiting for you at home. Your eyes wander over to Taeyong, who quietly gathers his things and walks toward the elevator. You follow not too far behind.

There’s still an awkward silence that hovers as the two of you enter the elevator, but you don’t mind it much. You spent a whole two hours with Taeyong, just the two of you. Sure, you were completing some tedious and, quite frankly, pointless paperwork that no one else would read. Still, it’s the fact that you both were in a room alone together. In the dark. At night. Together.

You squeal, jump, and dance around your mind like a little schoolgirl, rocking back and forth on your heels. You don’t notice that, in reality, you’re burning a hole into the walls with the intensity of your glare.

And now, you think dreamily, you’re on the elevator together, heading home. Would you hold hands? Would he offer to drive you to your apartment? Would you, maybe…kiss?

All these questions run through your mind one after the other, and you suppress the urge to squeal aloud. You lean over and peer at Taeyong with a small smile when you notice…that he’s huddled in the corner opposite of you. His eyes are glued to the wall beside him as if it’s the most marvelous thing in the world, and he refuses to look at you.

So, no kiss.

“Do you really find me that unattractive?” You note how he immediately flinches at the sound of your voice, and something inside you breaks.

“...what?”

“You won’t even look at me. Am I that ugly?”

The question prompts Taeyong to reluctantly acknowledge your presence. His brows furrow.

A humorless laugh escapes you as you shift from foot to foot. “I’ve…I’ve been trying to get your attention.” You speak with an exasperated sigh and nervous swallow, “I really like you and thought I was being pretty obvious, but you always cower in fear whenever I walk into the room.” You laugh again weakly, this time at how desperate you sound.

Taeyong resembles a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he searches for a reply. “I—I thought you hated me.”

“Is that why you thought I couldn’t laugh or smile?” You ask defensively.

“Not around me, no.”

“...oh.

I don’t. Hate you, I mean. I really don’t.”

The silence returns, more palpable now, and you can’t help but feel a little stupid. The elevator ding! interrupts your thoughts of self-pity, signaling that you’ve reached the first floor.

The doors slowly open, and Taeyong moves to leave first, but he stops in the doorway and, without glancing back, quietly wishes you “good night.”

You catch your reflection in the closing elevator doors. Your eyes drift to the bow in your hair and the gloss on your lips, and you deflate with a sigh.

Crabby, red eyes glare back at you from your rearview mirror. This time, there’s no petite, light peach bow in your hair for your eyes to fiddle with. You kept the pink gloss, though. You look cute wearing it.

With your jaw set and lips pinched into a tight line, your so-called ‘RBF’ is so strong that you intimidate yourself a little. At least your scowl tastes like strawberries.

When you walk into the office, you decide you won’t bother with Taeyong anymore. You sit down at your desk and get to work. It’s pointless to keep up with this childish crush, you tell yourself. You also didn’t see him at his desk and wouldn’t be surprised if he quit because of you, not that you cared.

You reach for your cup of tea and let the sweet smell waft into your nose, humming in delight as you take a sip.

Wait.

You didn’t make this.

Taeyong looks away just as your eyes flit up to look at him. He coughs and frowns as if remembering something, then meets your gaze with a sheepish smile.

“Thought I’d return the favor,” he says with a slight shrug. “Also, you’re right. This flavor’s pretty good.”

Once again, you’re speechless. You have to remember to swallow the tea in your mouth before letting your jaw drop because Taeyong, the same guy who tried merging with the elevator wall out of his fear of you, is smiling at you. Is speaking to you without shaking.

And his smile only grows at the sight of your dumbfounded expression. He leaves you there, dazed, and walks away with a chuckle.

Jihyo takes a bite from her salad and chews slowly, eyes locked on you in deep concentration. She watches as you quietly hum to yourself. It's probably another city pop song. She notes there’s something off about you, but she can’t quite place it. Her gaze hardens, and she peers at you a bit closer.

“…are you wearing lip gloss?”

You look up from your lunch and nod, a faint smile on your shimmery, pink lips.

“Alright, what’s going on?” Jihyo throws her hands up in resignation.

You glance between her and Joy with questioning eyes. “What?”

“Don’t play coy with us.” Joy shakes her head and points her chopsticks at you. “Your attitude has completely changed between this morning and now. Just a few hours ago, you looked dead-set on murder, and now you’ve got this dumb grin on your face.”

You scoff and look away from them, waving off their suspicions. “Pfft. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You try forcing your lips into a straight line.

“You’re not doing a good job of hiding it.”

“Be quiet.”

Jihyo rests her elbows on the table and folds her hands together, a grave look on her face as she leans in. “She told Bubble Tea.”

“Ugh, finally.” Joy groans in relief. “So you’re dating now?”

“I genuinely have no clue what you’re talking about.” You deny but refuse to look either woman in the eye. Instead, you glance at your wrist and gasp. “Seems we’ve run out of time, ladies. See you tomorrow.” You rush your words while throwing away your trash and dash for the stairs.

“You’re not even wearing a watch!” Joy accuses.

“They grow up so fast.” You faintly hear Jihyo sigh.

They clamber after you, yelling teases and congratulations that earn them a couple of weird looks, but you don’t bother to stop. They follow you all the way back to your desk even though they work on the other side of the building.

“What’d you do, scream at him?” Joy asks. “You think that’s his type of thing?”

“Would you hush?” You push her playfully, eyes nervously glancing around the room, hoping no one else heard that.

“I’m so proud of you.” Jihyo wipes away an invisible tear. “I knew you could do it.”

You sigh and shake your head. “Nothing like that happened. We just…talked.”

“Like I told you to do in the first place?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” you say and sit down, your shoulders sagging slightly at the thought. You prepare to return to work and reach for a file but freeze. There’s a sticky note on your desk. A Cinnamoroll-themed sticky note.

Gingerly bringing it up to your eyes, you, Jihyo, and Joy read what’s written in blue glitter ink.

It’s a phone number.

Let’s get to know each other better :)

- L. TY

thank you so much for reading! please leave a like and a comment. reblogs are appreciated too!

318 notes · View notes

euaphoric · 8 months

Text

MAKE A WISH ✨

♡ ♡ ♡ all jungkook wishes for on his birthday is you ♡ ♡ ♡

✩‧₊˚ pairing — jungkook x f!reader, best friends to lovers

✩‧₊˚ warnings — mostly fluff but i sprinkled in a *tiny* bit of smutty action towards the end hehe, the cliche (but cute) dynamic of being total opposites, koo wants you sooo bad omg, jk shoots his shot in such a cute & smooth way, food play (kinda?), unedited for rn but i’ll edit it later at some point !

words ⥂ 2.3k

made a lil post for jk’s birfdayyy, even tho he’s 26 he’s still like 21 in my eyes hjsjfjfds. i haven’t posted in a while so this is the least i can do for now lol hope y’all like it 😵‍💫

it’s your favorite person in the whole world’s birthday today ! you woke up in the wee hours of the morning to get everything ready for your best friend’s big day. you texted him straight away at midnight, sending the sweetest birthday message along with a gif of my melody holding a cake. you could never express into words enough how much jungkook means to you but your actions do most of the talking anyway. since he was turning 26 you got 26 pink and white balloons to scatter all over your living room, you also work at a bakery so it was obvious you had to make one for his special day. it was a single tier cake in the shape of a heart with a cute minimalistic design of a bunny and pink/white stars surrounding the edges. though the cake itself looked fairly simple, you worked really hard on it and took about 4-5 hours perfecting it. there was a lot of time and effort well spent into all this but was very worth it— only the best for the most amazing person you love and cherish. <3

the sheer excitement within you couldn’t be contained, feeling so giddy about him being on his way over to your place to come celebrate. you’ve known jungkook for years but this was the first time celebrating his birthday with just the two of you. a couple weeks ago, you asked him what he wanted for his birthday, to which he simply replied, “i don’t need anything, i just wanna hang out with you all day.” it was an odd request to you since he had so many other friends but you didn’t go against his demands, who are you to question the birthday boy’s request? to dress for this special occasion you wore a pretty pink flowy dress with a satin bow barrette in your hair, pairing it with white frilly lace socks and mary jane platforms. you looked super cute and jungkook will definitely think the same, it’s too bad he doesn’t wear much colorful stuff anymore, he’d look great in pink!

you get a call from jungkook saying he’s at your place and you immediately sprint to the door, going in for a hug as he steps inside. “happy birthday to the bestest boy in existence!” you cheer, gleefully smiling up at him. “thanks sweetie pie— wait, did you really decorate your whole house for this? there’s so much pink everywhere!” his glassy eyes soared around the room, taking in all the pretty decorations. jungkook’s outfit completely contradicted the theme, he was wearing a black fitted CK tee with black distressed jeans, very much on brand of him. “i thought it’d be cute! but that’s not all, i made you a cake, come look!” you grab his hand, leading the way for him to follow you into the kitchen, “tadaaa!”

he couldn’t stop smiling at how cute you were being, flailing your arms out towards the cake like it was some extraordinary discovery. he only chuckles in response, staring at you instead of the cake. “do you like it?” you hesitantly ask, second guessing if the cake design was a bit too simple. jungkook indefinitely snaps out his trance to respond, “oh i love it y/n, it’s adorable and i can’t wait to eat it!” well thank goodness, a weights now been lifted from your very tense shoulders. “phew.. okay good. you better have or else, i didn’t break my back doing all this for nothing!” you jokingly tease, pinching the side of his face to squish his adorably round cheeks. “can’t believe my boy has turned 26 today, you don’t look a day over 20, no wonder you still get ID’d at the bars!” it was too easy to keep teasing him, you have way too much fun doing it over the years.

“is this why you were so eager to spend my birthday with me? just so you can bully me all day?” he pouts like a child who’s about to throw a tantrum, “better be lucky you’re so darn cute..” that last comment made your face grow hot, attempting to cover your face so he doesn’t see you blushing. it’s weird how you’re getting so worked up over your best friend complimenting you, he always does it, there wasn’t much of a difference now. “you know you didn’t have to do all this for me right? celebrating this day with you is already a gift in itself.” jungkook really was a simple guy, all he needed was the people he loved most around him, that’s the best birthday gift in his eyes. “oh please, you’re my best friend so obviously i’m gonna go all out for this! plus i literally do this kinda thing for a living.. i had this prepared days in advance for you. also, quit being so sweet, you’re gonna make me cry on your own birthday!” you don’t know what’s in the air today but you can’t shake this feeling of butterflies in your stomach. “nooo, don’t do that you’ll ruin all the gorgeous makeup you’re wearing, i’m sure you spent a lot of time on that too!”

you’re not sure if it’s because it was his birthday but jungkook was acting extra cute towards you. the way he was paying more attention to you than anything else around him built an inexplicable tension between you. “i’ll go get the candles and something to cut the cake with, then after that we can do whatever you want!” you squeal from excitement, grabbing the box of colorful pastel candles and a cake knife that you actually stole from your job. placing the tiny candles around the rim to make it look aesthetically pleasing, you take the lighter from the table to light the candles. “turn off the lights!” you shout to him behind you, he hurries to find the switch to flip it off, making the room completely dark except for the tiny orange flames. you gesture for him to come closer, “ok now sit here!” sliding the chair out to let him sit down. the omitting light from the candles illuminated his face so beautifully, making your heart burst when he looks up at you with star-filled eyes. you’ll never understand how this man can be single, he’s so damn breathtaking.

it isn’t a birthday without any singing involved so you began chanting the happy birthday song to him in a cutesy high pitched tone, being the annoyingly loud best friend you always are. you had your hands rested on his broad shoulders, swaying side to side as you sang your little heart out, it probably wasn’t the best singing he’s ever heard but it’s the thought that counts! “you’re so freaking cute, stop ittt.” jungkook says after you finished singing, “it hasn’t even been a full hour yet but this is already my best birthday, thanks y/n, you made me feel special today.” he couldn’t help but express thorough gratitude for all this, you went so above and beyond for him. “oh it’s nothing really kookie, i’m just happy i get to spend this day with you.” you know he can’t see it but you smile anyway, hugging him from behind, the intoxicating scent of his cologne on his shirt made you feel dizzy.

“ok, now it’s time to make a wish. wish for anything in your wildest dreams, the world’s your oyster!” “hmm, alright.. will it come true though?” he asks in a hopeful tone, “of course it will! and if by chance it doesn’t, then i’ll make it happen.” you’d practically do anything for him, your friendship meant the world to you. “okay, here goes nothing i guess.” he shrugs, closing his eyes for a minute to think of his undying wish, once he opens them again he blows out the array of candles. “yayyy, it’s official now!” you ferociously clap, turning around to go find the light again but jungkook stops you in your tracks. “wait, please don’t turn the lights back on.” his voice sounding a bit more serious than usual. you listen and turn back to face him again, “wanna know what i ended up wishing for?” he gets up from the chair to walk towards you, pulling your hand to hold you in close to him. here comes the butterflies again… “what? you aren’t supposed to tell me your wish silly, then it won’t come true!” you playfully argue, thanking the heavens above that it’s too dark for him to see how flustered you looked. “but this wish is important, i really need it. you even said so yourself that you’ll help make it happen, right?”

just what the hell could he be up to right now ? you’re so clueless about what’s going on but you decide to humor him anyway. “hmm, yeah i guess i do remember saying that.. what was your wish that’s so important then?” pressing your body further into his chest, the atmosphere felt much different than it usually did, you couldn’t seem to put your finger on why though. without any hesitation he reveals his only wish, “i want you to be my girlfriend.” your body felt frozen, you were sure this had to be a dream at this point, there’s no way your best friend is asking you out.. no freaking way. “w-what?” the dry lump in your throat made it impossible to talk, you were so overwhelmed with emotions it seemed like you were rejecting him, but in reality you were just too stunned to speak. “i don’t care if this ruins our friendship anymore, i can’t keep holding this in… i’m in love with you y/n. ever since you broke things off with that loser i couldn’t stop thinking about you being my girlfriend. i can treat you so much better baby, i promise, just give me a chance. that’s all i want for my birthday, just wanna make you finally mines.” he gravely confessed everything, laying out all the thoughts he had building up over time.

you were still in shock but you had to say something before you mess up, clearing your throat to voice what you had to say. “i can’t believe i’m about to say this but, i don’t want to keep being friends anymore...” slowly pausing before finishing your thoughts. “wha-” “because i want to be your girlfriend too.” you quickly cut him off, heart anxiously pounding at the fact you just admitted to this. it never dawned on you that jungkook could ever feel romantically towards you but he hid his feelings a little too well for you to never detect this secret. the distance between you was seemingly nonexistent, feeling his warm breath against the side of your face as he leans in closer. “i guess it’s official then, you’re my girl now.” a pair of ring clad hands cup your face gently, pulling you in for a slow kiss. his soft lips felt so divine against yours, the languid movement of his body with yours was like magic. out of all the fake scenarios you created in your head about kissing jungkook, none of them could top the real thing. his peach flavored lip balm tasted so sweet, delighting you with even more hunger for him, the room felt like it was spinning.

a whine slips from your lips when he momentarily pulls away, missing the peachy candy taste of him. you could kiss him for hours with absolutely no complaints. “now that you’re my girlfriend can i do the thing i’ve really always wanted?” jungkook cranes his head to the side while asking, tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb. you thought him kissing you was what he wanted most but guess not. “of course honey, whatever the birthday boy wants the birthday boy gets!” you were willing to make this the most memorable birthday he’ll ever have. “to be completely honest, i want you to ride my face. but you can do that later for me, i wanna try this cake you made!” his attentions drawn back to turning to the light on again, finally getting able to see each other better. you were trying so hard to play it cool after he said that, but on the inside was total chaos. this whole day escalated so quickly, you wanted to pinch yourself to wake up but this felt way too good to be a dream— you’re now dating your best friend and couldn’t be happier.

“this looks so damn good, i can’t wait to eat it.” jungkook smacks his lips at the piece of cake you cut for him, and of course, it was on a pink plate with a matching fork to fit the theme. “i’m most excited to eat you instead though.” he smugly grins, dipping his finger into the frosting, but instead of eating it he dabs it on the side of your face. “what are you doing?” you cluelessly respond before he leans in again, this time licking the sweet buttercream off your cheek. “i wanna try somethin’ real quick, hold on.” he announces as he goes back to dip in the frosting again, you could sense the mischief all over his face. his other hand travels to the neckline of your dress, pulling it down slowly to reveal one of your perky breasts, his eyes were like a deer in headlights, in complete awe of how perfect you looked. “so much fucking better than i imagined.” the tent in his pants grew inevitably, biting his lip at the stunning sight in front him. bringing his finger to your perched nipple, he coats it with the pink icing, bending down to sensually lick it off once again. “nnghh.. that felt so good..” you lull out a moan, body turning into straight puddy by his touch. “don’t worry babe, there’s more where that came from,” the devilish smirk on jungkook’s face was enough to know he wasn’t kidding around, “i’m about to have the best birthday sex ever.”

#jungkook #jungkook bts #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x f reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook x female reader #bts smut #bts fluff

836 notes · View notes

ugotcooneycrossed · 8 months

Text

you're my kind of woman

kyra cooney-cross x reader

w/c: ~700

you comfort kyra after the world cup third place match

------------------------------------------------------------

Standing in the friends and family stands when the final whistle blows hurts.

There’s an air of disappointment circling through- what feels like the entire stadium, and you feel your heart break just a little more when you see your girlfriend plop herself down in the middle of the field.

Her knees are pulled up and her elbow rests on top of them- her hands hiding her face. Your hands grip the rail tighter and you want to almost leap over to run to her.

You decide against it though- instead using your wag privileges, you make your way down to the field, flashing security your little badge. There’s a sea of people you have to try manoeuvre your way through. Swedish player rushing past you excitedly, some screaming happily as they make their way to the change rooms.

You make a mental note to never go to, or eat at IKEA again.

You just manage to poke your head out of the tunnel- and you scan the field, no sight of Kyra. You frown at that and you turn around to try find a quiet place to call her- you know there’s no point, she won’t have her phone until much later but she always does love your voicemails.

Just as you turn and start to walk back- strong arms wrap you in a hug, tightening around you so you can’t move, a face buries itself into your neck and you feel wet tears start to tickle your neck.

“Hi my stargirl.”

Kyra tighten her holds on you at that, shaking her head.

“Yes- you are, and you’ll always be sweetheart.”

Your hand holds the back of her head- you press a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you so much Kyra- I’m so, so, proud of you.”

She pulls away from the hug- smiling at you softly, eyes crinkling and freckled cheeks pulled upwards.

“I love you so much.”

You pull her into another hug- and her arms wrap around your waist. You stand there for a while, just hugging each other, when a voice interrupts.

“There you are! Kyra come on we need you back.”

Your girlfriend smiles at you apologetically, and you shoo her away with a smile.

“Go- I’ll see you later.”

You end up back at your hotel- watching as many clips of the post-match interviews you can. Your heart breaks a little more for the girl’s- especially when you see Kyra crying again.

You grab your phone- pulling up her contact to call her.

Calling ‘Kyra<3'

“Hi baby.”

She answers almost right away- and you hear the girls in the background.

“Hey- almost done?”

“Yeah, nearly- I’ll sneak over to your hotel later.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You’re in bed after dinner- Kyra resting her back against the headboard, you laying in her lap. She’s twirling your hair in between her fingers and only half listens to what your saying.

You know because you stopped talking a while ago- yet she stills nods occasionally as if she is listening. You squeeze her hand to get her attention.

“You okay?”

She shrugs.

“I guess I’m still a little sad.”

You take a moment to think- looking up at her and smiling softly.

“That’s okay. But, remember- I am so proud of you. You played your heart out and it’s going to be alright.”

She smiles again- sliding down to face you in bed. She presses a kiss to your nose and you push her away with a small laugh.

She reaches out to tuck your hair behind you ear- stroking you cheek with her thumb.

“I’m really okay though- I have you, and you’re all I really need.”

“You sap.”

“Yeah, yeah- I’m the sap, sure, not like you don’t wear my shirt every game.”

“-s’cuse you! I’m not the athlete here.”

She giggles a little.

“Oh, I know.”

You narrow your eyes at her and turn the other way- you hear her start to protest at that.

“No- turn back around.”

You do- pressing a kiss to her lips when you do.

“Oh- by the way, we need a new bed- the one back home is from IKEA.”

#kyra cooney cross x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso

431 notes · View notes

luckykiwiii101 · 4 months

Text

The Blair Bitch Project

And who am I? That’s one secret I’ll never tell. You know you love me. XoXo - Gossip Girl 💋 💌

————————————————————————————————————————

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

————————————————————————————————————————

Welcome back, Upper East Siders.

Call me superstitious, but I’ve got a feeling this winter could be your last season on this app. Let’s face it, I’ve been at this a long time. But age breeds wisdom. And this I know: the best is yet to come.

From all around the world our favourite Upper east siders are asking the same question. “How do i get what i want?!”

“Why can’t I have it?!?! ughhh this isn’t fair!!!”

Well, call me crazy, but bitching about it, won’t get you to your final destination. Only if you use it the right way………

Think fast B, bitch about it? or BITCH about it?

Yes, I’m talking about the Blair BITCH Project.

Since the Blair Witch Project is SO LAST SEASON, I’ve got something new to bring to the table. And no, it’s not a 5 star meal, it’s much sweeter, or should i say sour.

No one said being a Bitch would be easy.

Well……I could make an exception if your name is Georgina Sparks or Serena Van Der Woodsen. But the Bitchiest Bitch of all Bitches Is our Queen B, Blair Waldorf. It’s the season to put on your louboutons and do what you do best, Bitch about it.

They say history repeats itself. But looks like B is charting a brand new course to success. Who knew being such a B-word would get you so far? Gotta take a few notes from Queen B herself.

As Blair said “You can’t make people love you but you can make them fear you.”

Yes i’m talking about those pesky little negative assumptions you hold in that thick little head of yours. Holding on to the seats on the limousine like Blair and Chuck. Speaking of Chuck, let’s Chuck those assumptions away, far far away.

“How am I going to do that?”

Just be yourse-

Oops. The inner Georgina jumped out just there. I was going to say be a bitch, but I guess there’s no difference……… (Just kidding……or am I? XoXo. Nothing Gossip Girl loves more than a little mystery).

It’s B’s party, and she’ll cry if she wants to. Everytime you open this app, you will bitch about how easy it is for you to enter the void state and how you always wake up in it. It’s your choice really. Vaunt about it in your posts, or the replies to any void related post you see. Bitch about it randomly in your mind everytime the void state comes to mind. Shouldn’t be difficult for a Stage 5 Bitch.

Careful ladies and gents. It’s easy to fall into the valley of overconsumption. Maybe you’ll even come across a faux bitch claiming to own a Chanel purse, but when they’ve been caught red handed, you may even start to think that you can’t have a Chanel purse. How tragic.

Fuel that energy into full bitch mode and vaunt your anger/frustration/sadness/irritation into bitching all about it, and replacing those ugly assumptions with prettier ones. They need a serious MAKEOVER! Ew.

SPOTTED: B taking what seemed like a innocent little stroll down central park, but we all know everything B does is NEVER innocent. She’s been caught RED handed, drowning her two-faced wannabes (negative assumptions) in a lake in central park, after crying them a river (vaunting) and drowning them in it. A classic Blair Bitch move. I like it.

Wait……? Can you hear that? It’s B. She’s at it again. OH EM GEE! Cover your ears. It’s a full blown bitch attack!!!!

Blair:

“OH MY GOD, I SWEAR I CANNOT EVEN CLOSE MY EYES WITHOUT ENTERING THE VOID STATE! I EVEN HEAR SOME STUPID BITCHES GOSSIPING ABOUT HOW I ALWAYS ENTER THE VOID STATE WITHIN 2 MINUTES! IT’S SO FRICKING ANNOYING! WHY ARE THEY ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT ME!!!!!???!! UGH THEY WISH THEY WERE LIKE ME, THE PERFECT VOID MASTER! AS IF THEY COULD EVER! THIS IS WAY TOO EASY, IT’S LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE TO STRUGGLE! LIKE HOW STUPID CAN YOU BE IF YOU’RE STRUGGLING WITH THE EASIEST THING ON THE PLANET! THAT’S LIKE BELIEVING THAT IT’S DIFFICULT TO BLINK OR SOMETHING!UGH IM WAYYYY TOO GOOD AT THIS!IT’S EASIER THAN FRICKINF BREATHING! UGHHHHHHHH!!!”

Negative Assumption:

“No you can’t hahahah ur so ba-.”

Blair:

“BITCH SHUT THE FUCK UP! DOROTA!!! COME CLEAN THIS LITTLE SHIT UP! IT’S PISSING ME OFF! IM TOO GOOD AT THIS LMFAO! WHY IS IT SO EASY?!UGHHHH I COULD LITERALLY JUST SLAP SOMEONE RIGHT NOW! MY POWER COULD PROBABLY SEND THEM INTO THE VOID STATE OR SOMETHING!!! I ALWAYS WAKE UP IN THE VOID STATE. IT’S LITERALLY NOTHING. NO BIG DEAL. I’M USED TO IT ANYWAY!!!”

Careful ladies and gents. B might be the Big Bad Wolf in designer clothing.

Don’t become a bitch in the process……Or do, I don’t care. I see you. XoXo.

Still reading an American Horror Story? Close than damned book and open a new one. Just make sure it’s not the sequel. We don’t need a repeat of past……events.

#void state #void #law of assumption #loa blog #loa tumblr #loassumption #loablr #manifestation #loa #void challenge #the void state #void concept #void state tips #manifesting #self concept

188 notes · View notes

raainberry · 3 months

Note

please you write fluffs so good I WANNA AUGH JSKSKSKDN CAN I PLEASE REQUEST MORE SANA FLUFF??

What’s Yours Is Mine (?)

« silly series - 9 »

Sana x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - just a classic case of girlfriend stealing clothes

wordcount - 834

A/N - thank you very much anon it means a lot bc me personally i think there’s definitely room for improvement, but ask and you shall receive! a small draft i picked up, enjoy!

The way Sana ran to get to your apartment had nothing to do with you.

Well, she was excited to see you, that was a given, but she was less thrilled about the rain that suddenly started falling on her way to your apartment.

When she stepped in, you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped at the sight of her. That unsurprisingly earned you a glare which you quickly turned into a smile when you told her to go and grab whatever from your closet after a warm shower.

You know, just until her clothes dried out.

She took you up on that offer and came out of the bathroom twenty minutes later, proudly wearing your own clothes as if they were hers.

You were busy, posted up on the kitchen island and focused on some work matter that required you looking at your laptop for way longer than anyone would like. You’d much rather be looking at your girlfriend instead, who looked absurdly cute in that one hoodie she knew you loved and haven’t let go of since your early college years.

A tired smile made its way to your lips when you allowed your eyes to take a break from the screen, granting them the soothing sight that was Sana.

“A sight for sore eyes” suddenly made all the sense in the world to you.

“What are you wearing?” You chuckled, your gaze never leaving her as she made her way over to you.

You didn’t expect to see her in that clothing item, and you wondered how it didn’t happen earlier. It was so endearing, how the sleeves were slightly too long for her arms, and how cozy she looked.

“Something comfortable.” She said, glancing at her sleeves. “Do you like it?”

“I do.” You wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer and she took it as an invite to sit on your lap. “I think I have the same one.”

She giggled at your bad joke, a proof of her love.

“You have great taste.” She booped your nose and your features scrunched up, causing your glasses to slide up with them.

You looked too adorable not to kiss at that moment, so she did just that, wrapping her arms around your neck to pull you in for a kiss or two. Her lips felt just as amazing as the last time she saw you, maybe a little sweeter.

“Are you gonna be done anytime soon?” She gestured to your laptop and you frowned, sighing.

“No. Someone messed up at work, I have to review and fix a whole program.” You pouted at her knowing you won’t be able to have her in your arms like that for a while still.

“Why are you sad, that means you’re good at your job.” She tried to cheer you up and managed to turn your lips turn into a smile again.

“I guess. But it means we won’t be able to cuddle any time soon.” You explained.

Sana shrugged, “I can just stay on your lap while you do your work.”

“I’d love that but I don’t think my legs would.” You said without much thought before the sound of your words reached your ears. Sana’s gasp complimented your widened eyes and a nervous laugh pushed itself past your lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that!”

You tightened your arms around her, hugging her closer to make amends in hopes she’d find you cute enough. “I love you.” You said, looking up at her, before stealing a kiss from her cheek.

“And?” She asked, deciding not to let go of your honest mistake without teasing you at least a little bit.

“I’ll make dinner.” You proposed, but she didn’t budge.

“You were going to do that anyway.”

“I’ll let you play with my hair while I work.” You tried again, a hopeful smile on your lips.

“What so I’ll just stand for two hours?” She scoffed. “You’re so bad at bargaining.”

“Fine, then what do you want?” You sighed, only wanting her to quit the teasing.

“I keep the hoodie.” She grinned, but it wasn’t innocent.

“Sana, it’s my favorite…” You whined.

“It’s mine too.” She whined back and you chuckled despite yourself, sighing before giving it a thought.

“Am I ever going to get it back?” You asked, although you already knew how that usually goes.

“No.”

Her smile, the happiness she displayed made it hard to say that same word back to her. Honestly you wouldn’t mind seeing her wear it from now on, but only a few times. It was still your favorite hoodie.

“Can we at least share custody?” You tried to compromise and this time she was the one humming as she thought about it.

“Maybe. But I take it first.” She said a second later.

“Fine.” You gave in, taking the hand she was offering in yours and shaking it in order to close the deal.

”Pleasure doing business with you, baby.” She giggled, bringing your hand to her lips.

The soft peck she laid on top of it made the butterflies dance in your stomach, coating your cheeks in a similar shade to the one on your hoodie.

You’d never see that hoodie again by the way. At least not on yourself.

#twice x reader #sana x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #sana fluff #twice sana #minatozaki sana

230 notes · View notes

heavenlycloud · 4 months

Text

arachnophobia~ spiderman au kim minji x fem! reader

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

authors note: i wrote this for @tzuyuscloud months ago for their birthday and never got around to posting it. i don't plan on writing for nwjns in the future tho, this was just a special request for a friend!

p.s. im sick rn and running on soda, pancakes, and cough syrup so i hope this makes sense cuz im a lil hopped up on stuff rn

tw// swearing, blood, violence

the clock tower across campus struck loudly across campus, indicating the top of the hour. you rolled your eyes at the sound and wished they’d only use it during daylight hours instead of when everyone was trying to sleep. diverting your attention back to your laptop, you added a few more sentences to the Literature paper you were writing before closing the top. it was deep into the night so you quickly washed up and changed into pajamas before heading off to bed since you had a morning class. an hour must have passed when you jumped upon hearing a loud thud followed by a crash of items clattering to the floor in the room nearest yours. quickly, you sprang up and tried to open your roommate’s door which was locked from the other side. for a moment it was silent which only made you frantically jiggle the doorknob harder in an attempt to help the girl on the other side. loudly, you called out, “minji?! are you good bro?” from the other side of the door you could hear her cussing rapidly in english and korean in a hushed whisper. after a moment she called out, voice slightly strained, “yeah uh i’m fine. i just knocked over some stuff on my nightstand. i’m fine though you can leave.” you furrowed your brows in confusion before awkwardly answering, “uh.. um okay yeah. goodnight, i’ll see you in class tomorrow morning.” right when you settled into bed you thought aloud to yourself, “what nightstand? we don’t even have those in our rooms?” however, you didn’t let yourself think too much of it and shrugged off the thought so you could go back to sleep.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

the next morning you woke up and got dressed for class as you normally did but this morning minji wasn’t getting ready with you. instead of thinking too much of it, you told yourself she was probably sleeping in a few minutes longer. nine o’ clock rolled around and minji was still nowhere to be found so you went to her door and banged on it, LOUDLY. when there was still no answer you called out, “minji- bro come on we have our literature exam today! lets go!” for nearly two minutes you were calling out to her before you had to leave. minji wasn’t one to skip class so you just stuck with thinking maybe she got an earlier start and was already in class. the walk to the lecture hall was quieter than normal without minji by your side. your roommate’s daily spiel of gossip that she’d overheard from classmates was dearly missed at this early hour. the second you walked into your lecture hall, one of your other classmates, haewon, waved you over. she groaned and put down the book she was skimming in her hand, “god i can’t wait for this lesson to be over.” she pushed the text away from her in disgust, and you laughed, “well we have the exam today, and the paper due next class so it’ll be over soon!” she looked past you a bit then asked, “wait where’s minji?” you craned your neck and squinted to try and see if she was in the large lecture hall but she still hadn’t shown. with a shrug you responded, “i don’t know. i thought she was already here but i guess not.” haewon pulled out her phone and frowned, “she hasn’t texted me either…” before the two of you could do anything else, your professor entered the classroom with a thick packet of exams. your stomach wound itself into knots at the realization that minji would be missing this exam. she had already missed class six times this semester, so this absence would be the one to make a failing grade for the semester. when your professor got to your row with the exams in hand, she looked at the empty seat next to you with a face of disapproval. you awkwardly gave a weak smile and passed the packets down your row before starting on your own test.

half an hour passed leaving 45 minutes left in the class before you all had to leave. from the looks of your other classmates, this exam was a tough one. beside you, haewon was sound asleep with her exam under her arms. you looked up at the door when you heard rushed footsteps and labored breathing, followed by the door closing. minji rushed up to her seat and sat down, not sparing a second to catch her breath before starting her exam. her appearance was slightly more dishevled than she’d normally deem acceptable but you remained silent. for the rest of the exam period you worked on the test trying to match paces with haewon and minji so that the two of you could leave together at the end. despite arriving thirty minutes late for class, minji managed to complete her exam in fifteen minutes, before you and haewon. not even a minute after the three of you exited the classroom you demanded, “bro, where the hell were you this morning?” haewon agreed and added on, “yeah and why are you dressed like adam sandler?” the two of you onced over the oversized t shirt and baggy basketball shorts that she sported with a pair of sneakers you’d never seen before. you wrinkled your nose and added, “and why do you smell like a burnt gas station?”

minji shrugged off your questions as nonchalantly as she could, “there was an emergency at HQ and they called me in to help-” you cut her off, “wouldn’t they just call someone else? you don’t even work there?” minji’s cheeks flushed at the realization that you had a point and she quickly explained, “it was one of those ‘all hands on deck’ things. i was available to help so i did. anyways, i was tired so i stayed with a friend who lived nearby, and i had to borrow some clothes. and i was fixing hanni’s car again, it stopped on the side of the road because she forgot to fill it with gas, it’s not a big deal.” you pretended to be unbothered by the remark but something about the slight limp she had and bruises on her legs made your stomach wind into knots. when you looked back up at her face she caught your eyes lingering on her shins with a slightly uneasy stare. nervously she laughed, “lets go to JavaBean before our next class, my treat.” haewon was already linking arms with you and tugging you along, happily murmuring, “i love that she has that new internship with Samsung. i don’t have to pay for stuff anymore because she keeps treating us.”

haewon turned her phone around and showed you and minji the screen, “did you all see this? that spiderperson stopped a bunch of people from robbing a bank downtown last night! they released the footage this morning.” you watched as the masked assailents attempted to take on the local hero all at once. from the corner of your eye you could see minji shifting uncomfortably in her seat as she watched the video. you looked at her and asked, “isn’t this place right by the samsung building you were at last night? and the footage says it happened around the time you were out. did you see anything?” minji’s eyes widened and she looked down at her iced latte, “no i was inside the building working. we heard the sirens but i didn’t see anything besides police cars up from the windows on my floor.” haewon pouted and said, “damn i wish you’d seen something. i wanna know who this hero is- they’re kinda hot.” you and minji choked on your iced coffees and you laughed, “they wear a mask, you don’t even know if they’re actually hot.” haewon explained, “i mean the act of kicking ass in a spandex suit is hot. but i wouldn’t be surprised if they were good looking too. i’ve seen movies.” minji laughed and shook her head before you turned your attention back to the video. you noticed the way the hero crumpled to the ground when one of the robbers kicked their left knee, coincidentally the same one minji had been babying all day.

at the end of the school day you found minji in the main room of your shared apartment with her laptop over her lap, and chemistry papers scattered around the coffee table. the second she noticed your presence she slammed her laptop closed and scrambled to gather her papers and tuck them away. you furrowed your brows and awkwardly laughed, “why are you acting like a 12 year old getting caught on a 18+ website?” minji’s face was flushed red with panic and she tried to play it off, “just some uh…classified work stuff that’s all?” you pointed to her laptop, “and you’re doing highly classified work on a school laptop connected to public wifi?” minji rolled her eyes and shoved her computer into her backpack without a response, clearly having gotten caught in her lie. your gaze shifted to her legs where she now wore a pair of sweatpants, your sweatpants to be specific. her long sleeved t shirt rode up on one of her arms and your stomach formed a pit when you noticed small scratches and bruises along her skin.

“what happened?” you asked, motioning to her arms with a curious but stern glance. minji quickly tugged her sleeve down and murmured, “nothing, don’t worry about it.” for a moment you almost let it go but decided otherwise knowing whatever was happening would continue if you didn’t try to help. you insisted, “no. you need to tell me what the hell is going on.” minji gave you a confused look and you persisted, “this whole thing where you’re disappearing late at night and not coming home? you keep blowing me and haewon off, not to mention that girl hanni came here the other night in tears thinking something happened to you because you hadn’t answered her calls in a week. why the hell do you keep coming back beat up and bruised?!” minji felt her face heat up and she immediately responded much more defensively than before, “i said don’t worry about it.” she got up and pushed past you before slamming her door, shaking the entire apartment with the force.

for hours you tried to rationalize why minji was suddenly keeping so many secrets from you. what the hell was so secretive about a technology company internship, and why was it that she was only working on projects at night? the more you thought about the whole thing the more stuff started to make less sense. two weeks passed and you noticed minji coming in and out of your dorm at late hours, or just not coming home at all even more. although it wasn’t unusual for her to disappear during the night but you brushed it off knowing that she had that high demand, super prestigious Samsung internship. your suspicions only started to rise further when her bruises and bumps were too noticeable to hide. minji was more closed off towards you and all of your friends and you just missed your roommate, the dork with a 9:30 bedtime, a hermit crab collection, and a love for harry potter. so naturally you decided that you were going to figure out where she was constantly disappearing to since she wouldn’t ever give you a direct answer.

minji left your apartment around 9:00 pm with the excuse of going out to meet a friend for the night, and potentially spending the night. you opened the find my iphone app on your home screen and opened it to see where minji really was. sure enough she was not at a friends house and actually in some old warehouse downtown. you followed the gps to the location and mumbled quietly to haewon who was on facetime, “what would she even be doing over there?” haewon shrugged and answered, “maybe she knows someone in there, you know that place is full of squatters.” you rolled your eyes and said, “she only talks to four people including us and her uncle. i’m not close with that hanni girl she’s friends with but i don’t think she squats in an old metal factory. but i’m here so i’m gonna hang up.” haewon told you firmly, “okay but if anything happens you need to leave okay?” you nodded and hung up before tucking your phone into your pocket.

there was nearly no light inside of the old factory, just a few yellowed bulbs illuminating a few feet ahead of you. broken windows offered rays of moonlight to pool where the bulbs couldn’t, making it only a bit brighter. you pulled your black hood over your head and tucked yourself into a dark corner of the factory just to see if minji was actually there. a group of burly men were huddled together around the center of the floor, taunting a smaller figure between all of them. when one of them moved you saw the familiar carnelian red and navy blue spider suit peeked from the middle. you gasped and felt your heart sink as the men tormented the hero who was already in bad shape. instead of staying you looked at your phone to see that minji’s location was now somewhere else in the city. despite wanting to stay and possibly help the young hero, you knew that it was safer for you to sneak out the way you came in. quickly, you hustled down a flight of stairs and slipped out one of the broken walls into a dark alleyway that would lead to a main street after a few blocks. as you walked down the street you turned back when you heard a blood curdling scream, it sounded all too familiar but you turned back and listened to haewon’s advice, hoping to the heavens above the person screaming wasn’t your best friend.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

walking alone at night in this sketchy part of town wasn’t ideal but public transit wasn’t running at this hour and you weren’t paying for an uber because it wasn’t cheap. you could feel a pair of eyes on you despite nobody being around so you quickend your steps. just as you were about to break into a run a man jumped out from the darkness and blocked your path. there was a sinister smile on his face as he asked, “what’s a pretty thing like you doing out alone at this hour?” you swallowed your fear and stood your ground best you could, “going home. now, excuse me.” you tried to slip by him and the wall just for him to pin your body against it, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

the man’s face was inches from yours, his breath smelled of cigarettes and alcohol as it ghosted your lips when he smiled, “what’re you doin sweetpea?” you looked him dead in the eye and kept a stoic face before jamming your knee upwards, hitting him straight in the groin. he stumbled back and staggered onto the ground and you looked over him before kicking him in the same spot, adding one hard stomp after just for good measure. you then took off running, hearing him suddenly yelp you turned around to see the local hero in the spider suit shooting webs at him, sticking him to the alley wall. your eyes met the hero and you heard them yell, “run Y/N!” you didn’t even waste another second before you ran all the way back to your apartment, locking the doors behind you and barracading the door. it was after you took a shower and changed into your pajamas that you realized the masked hero said your name, and suddenly it all clicked. to test your theory, you needed solid, undeniable proof that your roommate was not who she said she was.

you peeked into minji’s room through the cracked open door she had and you smiled seeing her window was in fact open. that’s definitely how she was getting in and out of your apartment every night without opening the front door. without wasting a second you pulled the window closed and locked it as tight as you could with a satisfied grin on your face. all you had to do now was wait for minji to get back home.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

hours passed and after one long and surprisingly painful mission, minji was finally rushing back to your shared apartment. she sprinted across the grassy quad as quickly as she could, praying that nobody was going to be outside at this time of night. she frantically attempted to use her web shooters to swing up into the trees, her usual and most secretive way of getting around. however, after the fights she had last night and tonight, she knew it was a long shot. the teenage superhero smiled when she heard a familiar click, but it fell when her web shooters released a thin, miniscule amount of webs that wasn’t even the size of her arm. she cursed under her breath knowing she’d had to fix that before going to sleep, but all she wanted now was to get back into her room. finally she got to her dorm and looked up at her window which sat on the fourth floor of the dorm building you both were assigned to. she began climbing up, wincing as pain seared through her entire body but specifically on her abdomen where a nasty gash was still leaking blood.

a feeling of dread washed over her when she realized her window was both closed and locked which she never did. she will admit she’d been out of it recently, forgetting to do some school assignments, showing up to club meetings, and she’d even screwed up on tonight’s mission resulting in the bloody wound on her side. the feeling of dread was replaced with panic when she heard a couple of students walking a short distance away. there were only a few seconds to spare before she was spotted so she scanned the floor to see if any windows were open. she saw yours, wide open just asking for her to enter. minji held her breath, hoping and praying that you would be asleep tonight. she quickly crawled through your window and up your walls onto the ceiling in an attempt to exit through your door to her room. the superhero made it to the middle of your ceiling when your light flicked on and you gasped, “ahh! what the fuck?! what the fuck? what the FUCK?!” you yanked the broom from your closet and started smacking the masked individual on your ceiling with it. just like a real spider, minji quickly dashed from one side of your ceiling to another, almost making it out of your room. that was until the broom jammed right into her abdomen, making her scream in pain and fall onto your floor with a loud thud.

you immediately reached forward and snatched the mask off her head, ready to swing the broom on the stranger again and call the police. a small gasp left your lips when you realized it wasn’t a stranger but rather your own roommate of a year. she had her eyes closed in pain while tears pricked the side of her eyes, getting ready to roll down her cheeks. blood ran from her nose, purple and blue splotches peppered her brow bone, jaw, and cheek, while a cut over her lip had a thick patch of partially dried blood. you looked at her carnelian red suit that was darkening over her stomach area. her hand pressed over it and you urgently moved, “oh my god- minji!” she weakly smiled through a wince of pain, “hey, y/n.” you looked down at her and brought your hands to your head, “holy shit i was right- oh god- ok um…shit you’re bleeding on my rug.” you bent down to help her up, taking most of her body weight onto yourself while she hobbled with you to the bathroom. minji winced once more and you onced her over, “you need to take that off so i can clean your stomach.” immediately minji refused, “no i’m fine it’s just a little cut. you can go to sleep y/n, it’s fine. this is nothing new.” your heart clenched at hearing her last words but you were adamant, “no i’m helping you. minji, you can’t even stand up straight. so take it off so i can help you.” she sighed in defeat knowing that there was no point in trying to refuse because you wouldn’t let up, and honestly she did need help this time. minji pressed a button on her suit causing it to quickly retract up her arms and legs, leaving her in what was now a form fitting tank top and biker shorts version of her suit.

minji placed her hand on her side, applying pressure to the cut before you gently lifted her onto the countertop of the bathroom. she shifted uncomfortably for a minute while you grabbed a handful of bandaging pads, gauze, and medical bandage tape. when you came back you carefully lifted her top to expose the wound. a small whine of pain left minji’s lips as you peeled the material from her bloodied skin. once that part was done you rinsed it with water, minji gripping onto your shoulder so she didn’t interfere with your help. while you cleaned it, you stated, “if it was any deeper i would’ve had to take you to the ER.” she remained silent at the remark, instead focusing on the way your hands tenderly took care of her wounded body. the teenager hissed as you began to dress the wound with layers of gauze and bandaging tape, throwing her head back to prevent tears from falling. afterwards, you placed small bandaids over the small cuts on her brow bone, temple, and jaw. minji could feel your eyes skimming her arms and legs, looking at the varying scars decorated with new bruises that she’d gotten in the past year. however, she was surprised when you didn’t mention a single word about any of it. instead, you finished up and said, “just avoid getting those wet when you shower, drink water and eat, and let your body rest. alright?” the superhero nodded and you said, “okay, i’m done. good night, i’ll see you in the morning.” minji mumbled a shy, “thank you” under her breath to which you smiled and assured her, “it’s no big deal.”

you turned around to leave and minji grabbed your hand, “i’m spiderman or girl or woman or whatever. but it’s me.” slowly you turned to face and looked into her eyes, “minji, i know.” she sighed and pulled you closer to her as she still sat on the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around your torso to keep you close, “no- i know that i just don’t want there to be any more secrets. i can’t keep lying to you.” she pulled your arms to rest on her shoulders as she held your waist and you prompted, “so what else should i know about my spiderwoman?” butterflies erupted in minji’s stomach and she cracked a smile through her split lip, wincing when it hurt slightly. she ran her knuckles along your side and she started, “i can shoot webs from my suit, i can crawl on walls, i’m pretty fast and i’m stronger than regular people, i heal faster so all of this will be fine tomorrow mostly, i have enhanced balance and reflexes, and i get this tingly feeling when i feel like there’s impending danger.” you looked at her asking for more and she continued, “i do really work for samsung though just not in the engineering program like you and haewon think. it’s this classified project so as much as i want to tell you more, i can’t because i don’t know much either right now."

you asked, "what about the day you came in late for the exam? why'd you smell like gas and ash, hanni has a tesla and that doesn't take gas. and what happened to you that day you were there in the alley? i saw you in the factory too." minji sighed and admitted, "i saved a man from a burning car on the side of the highway. they stabbed me in the factory which is why i screamed, and i had a feeling something was going wrong in the alley after i escaped the factory. but that’s all of my secrets i promise. no more secrets, okay?”

brushed a stuck hair from minji’s forehead and nodded, “no more secrets, huh?” she hummed in agreement and you told her quietly, “i have one.” minji’s eyes found yours and you cupped her face with your hand, “i really like you, more than a friend.” minji broke out into a smile and responded, “i really like you too.” you asked almost as if you didn’t believe her, “yeah?” she nodded eagerly, “yeah.” minji leaned foreward and pressed her head against yours, you placed a gentle kiss on her forehead then you pulled away and looked at her, both of you sharing a similar glance, “don’t tell haewon.” the two of you bursted into laughter and minji leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

end.

#kpop fanfic #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #kpop imagines #girl group fluff #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #girl group angst #girl group reactions #new jeans imagines #new jeans fanfic #new jeans scenarios #new jeans reactions #kim minji x reader #new jeans #spiderman au #superhero au

234 notes · View notes

theyhavetakenovermylife · 4 months

Note

hiii hello idk if you take tmnt x reader requests (ignore this if you dont take requests) but like. can you make an 03 raphael x fem!reader ?? like something with love at first sight,, ykwim :3 something kinda similar to the '12 raph x reader thingie you posted??

Foot Ninjas and Sidewalk Beauties

2003!Raphael x reader

A/N: Sure I can❤️ My guess would be that this takes place around season one or season two, but that doesn’t matter that much.

-----------

Warnings: Spelling, turtles getting their butts kicked, Raph falling in love at first sight❤️

-----------

Last encounter with the Foot was, just say it mildly, an absolute failure. The turtles had gotten their butts kicked and then had the floors cleaned with it. None of them had been prepared for Shredder and his ninjas. It had been a surprise attack, or as Shredder had called it, a warning. And then he left, leaving the turtles injured and bedridden for a week.

Leonardo was not happy. Not happy at all. He immediately started blaming their loss on their lack of training, giving way for him to start a ned training schedule. And Raphael did not like it. It messed with his own training. His boxing that helped him blow off build up steam was now cut short, leaving Raph more agitated and angry. Not only did he not have time for his anger relieving boxing, but his knitting had also taken a back seat. So to say that Raph did not like it, may have been an understatement. Raphael hated it.

Raph especially hated it today, as he was stuck on a roof on a Friday night, continuously doing push ups for what felt like hours. Both Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo was getting tired, yet their older brother did not yield. He continued, telling them to do the same, to which they sighed and did. Expect Raph. His patients was growing dangerously thin, as Leonardo continued once more.

“If I have to do one more push up, oh high leader”, Raphael growled. “The Foot ain’t the only one that will feel the rage of me breaking their bones!”

“Considering how you got your ass severely whooped the last time, I would have to see it to believe it”, Mikey shot in, causing Raph to growl at him.

“Raph, you know very well that we have to be prepared”, Leo said, during yet another push up, making sure his brothers were following his lead. “The Foot have been quiet for a long time. They could make their next move at any time”.

“Leo’s right, Raph”, Donnie strained as he did another push up. “After what happened last time, we can not be too prepared”.

“Don’t even remind me of that”, Raph said. If his arms weren’t preoccupied in his forced push ups, he would be slamming his fist against the roof. “Those bozos almost broke my sai!”

“That’s why it’s important we up our training”, Leo said as he got down on his forearms. “Plank, now. First to give in takes five rounds”.

“That’s it!”, Raph rumbled, getting up from his push ups, his arms screaming in relief. “No more training! I have shit to do, Leo! All of us do!”

“Raph”, Leo said, getting up to stand, frustration visible on his face. Donnie and Mikey sighed, knowing what was coming. “It’s not up for discussion. We have to be ready for the next Foot attack, and at the moment, we aren’t”.

“Speak for yourself”, Raph growled. “I’m ready for anything! Bring those Foot scumbags, and I’ll give them a taste of my knuckle sandwich!”

And as if those had been magic words, part of a spell, a ninja star embedded itself into the rooftop, in the space between Raph’s feet. All four turtles looked up to find a small army of Foot ninjas, waiting on the tall building beside them.

“Oh, crud”, was all Raph got to say before the ninjas descended upon them.

Once again the brothers found themselves unprepared. Their muscles weak after the extensive training Leo had put them through that evening, they found it hard to keep up with the Foot. Leo was the only one that seemed to put up a fight, while Mikey and Donnie dodged every attack that came their way, too exhausted to do anything else. But Raph was not the time to dodge. With his frustrations flowing, Raph threw himself at the Foot ninjas. But with his body and mind tired, he was easily pushed back.

It didn’t take long before they had backed Raph up against the edge of the roof, with no obvious way out. Okay, maybe Leo hadn’t been so wrong after all. But it was still his fault that they even were on the rooftop in the first place!

Raph did all he could, but with every punch or push he was taking a step backwards, until his heels hit the edge of the roof, causing Raph to go off balance. He tumbled backwards off of the roof and down towards the street below. Even though Raph was tired, the sudden adrenaline from his fall caused him to think fast. He took his sais and slammed them into the side of the building, digging them into the bricks in one hard move.

Raph breathed a sigh of relief, looking down to the street below, in order to look for an easy way down. But what Raph saw was far from what he had expected. Hanging from the side of the building, Raphael never thought that anything would be able to take his mind of the situation he was in, but then he saw someone. You.

You were standing right below him on the sidewalk, in the light of the street lamp, phone in hand and headphones over your head. You cased glances down the street, as if you were waiting for something. Most likely a car.

Continuously looking between your phone and the street, you did not notice the mutant turtle hanging off of the side of the building behind you, his mouth agape as he stared at you. To say it straight forward, Raph thought you were absolutely beautiful. The profile of your face whenever you turned your head to the side, the way your hair fell down your back. The silhouet of your body and the shadow it cast on the ground below you. Raphael felt his heart beat hard in his chest. Never had he thought he would see anyone so beautiful. How could his dream girl be walking the streets of New York City, and be so much better than he ever dared imagine?

While Raph admired your beauty from afar, the car you had waited for drove up beside you. You greeted the driver with a smile, that almost made Raph loosen the grip on his sais. He watched you take off your headphones as you took a seat at the passenger side, before shutting the door behind you. Raph watched, with his heart beat so loud he wondered if you could hear it inside the car, as you and the driver drove away, disappearing down the street, leaving Raph behind with a feeling of longing. He already felt a need to see your face again. You’re pretty face, that he hadn’t had the chance to enjoy the sight of, to the fullest.

A sigh escaped Raph, in the form of a breath he did not know he was holding. He felt a tingling sensation in his stomach that made him feel happy. All the anger he had been feeling a few moments before, was gone, replaced by a feeling of joy.

“Raph!”, his big brother’s voice sounded from the roof above. "Where are you? We need some help here!”

“Coming!”, Raph yelled back, suddenly having the energy to propel himself back up to the roof, using this sai and his own strength.

As Raph jumped back into action, giving the Foot ninjas a long overdo round of a good beating, his mind kept wandering back to you, enjoying the energy the thought of you gave him. Maybe that day's training session hadn’t been so stupid after all.

220 notes · View notes

kingofbodyrolls · 4 months

Text

Learn to Love Again (m) | myg

Summary: People always leave. They become beautiful stars shining bright in the night sky. When life hands you lemons, you’ve been told to make lemonade, but that is hard when your soul and heart is breaking apart. When you rescue a tiny cat and meet a handsome stranger in the cafe, you finally feel yourself healing – but when they too leave, how are you going to learn to love again?

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female, mainly called pet names so no ‘Y/N’).

AU + genres: Hybrid!au (shapeshifter!yoongi), strangers to lovers, slice of life, heavy angst, a lot of sadness and grief (I’m sorry!), dark vibes, smut and fluff and some humor sprinkled in there too.

Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.

Word count: 19,4K

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings (general) + triggers: Heavy angst, extreme heavy sadness and grief, death of minor characters, mention of previous character death (parents and siblings), mentions of su*cide, mention of m*rder, su*cidal thoughts. Mention of past car accident. Mention of past domestic abuse. Mirrors 👀👀

Warnings (explicit): unprotected sex (please stay safe!), choking, oral (female receiving), nipple and breasts play, one-time use of a degrading word (otherwise petname), hair pulling – I guess it’s pretty vanilla with a slight sprinkle of spice 🤭

Author’s note (1): I know it sounds hella sad (and it is), but it is also very sweet and heartwarming too 💜 I wanted to venture into the darker stuff again, and embrace all the feelings and sadness that I felt a few weeks ago (I’m fine, well I’m getting through it at least).

If you are triggered by any of the warnings, I suggest that you skip this. It’s not that explicit though, but the heavy subjects are still there and they feature in it a lot.

Also, the quote “people always leave” features a lot in this and I only now realize why I find it so familiar – it’s a famous quote from Peyton Sawyer from One Tree Hill.

Author's note (2): It’s only partly edited, so I’m so sorry about any mistakes or weird wordings (English is also not my mother language). When I read it again, I felt sad and like the whole thing is crap (why do I also feel like this adgadfjkhs), BUT, I still like it, it’s a piece of my heart in there… I can’t just let it sit in my docs to collect dust. So – I’ll just post it early and never look at the thing again (expect for the cover, because damn I’m so happy with how that turned out 🥹).

Taglist: @keshiadeija @viankiss @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad If you prefer to read on AO3 you can also find it there 🙂

The heavens are weeping again, unleashing a torrential downpour that drums heavy on the windows. Just like the heavy beating of your heart and the tears that just won’t stop falling down your cheeks.

For days now, the world has languished in this disquiet, a foreboding atmosphere that has draped itself over every moment, casting a shadow even before the haunting ring of the call that echoed through the silence.

A searing, heart-wrenching call that etched itself into the fabric of your existence, standing out as one of the most agonizing moments life has ever dared to deliver.

Caught off guard by the unexpected twist of fate, it blindsided you, sending shockwaves through your core and leaving you utterly rattled, as if the very ground beneath your feet had shifted without warning.

Your conviction in her well-being crumbled as swiftly as a sandcastle against the tide.

In your last encounter, she radiated joy—her infectious happiness casting a brilliant glow over her words as she spoke about her new job, her blossoming romance, and her boundless love for life.

A tear, heavy with the weight of the contrast between then and now, traces a lonely path down your cheek.

The echo of her laughter, the sparkle in her eyes, and the unbridled excitement that made her hands tremble with anticipation haunted your memories.

It's a heart-wrenching juxtaposition between the happiness she projected and the sorrow now etched into the fabric of your own emotions.

She wasn't just a friend; she was your confidante, a steadfast companion through the labyrinth of years and experiences. Your best friend.

In the tapestry of your friendship, she emerged as the resplendent thread, the one who consistently outshone the rest.

Even on her darkest days, she radiated a brilliance that surpassed the ordinary, a celestial glow that left an indelible mark on your heart. To you, she wasn't just a friend; she was a luminous star, a breathtaking celestial entity whose untimely descent felt like a cosmic supernova, casting a blinding light that left everyone in its wake awestruck and forever changed.

Like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, the day she chose to end her own life blindsided everyone.

The abruptness of her decision, the finality of calling it quits, left a haunting question echoing in the hollow chambers of your soul—why?

The puzzle remains unsolved, the enigma of her despair a perplexing maze you can't navigate. Outwardly, her life seemed like a canvas painted in hues of contentment, yet the invisible struggles eluded comprehension.

Despite the deep conversations that usually wove through the tapestry of your friendship, the darkness she harbored never surfaced in her words. Her choice to shroud her pain in silence remains an unfathomable mystery, a tragic paradox that still elicits a profound sense of bewilderment.

The haunting ‘what if’ lingers, an elusive specter of regret—what if she had shared her struggles with you?

The possibility that your words could have been a lifeline is an uncharted sea of sorrow. The uncertainty, the unfulfilled potential for intervention, claws at your conscience like a relentless tempest.

In the wake of this unanswered plea for connection, tears cascade down your cheeks, each drop bearing the weight of unspoken conversations. The dampness on your collarbone, where your shirt clings uncomfortably, is a tangible reminder of the storm within.

A mere few days have crawled by since that fateful call, the kind that alters the very fabric of reality.

The echo of your friend's voice reverberates through your memory—a seismic revelation that shattered your world. As the words unfolded, you crumpled to the floor, the phone nearly slipping from your trembling grasp.

A gasp caught in your throat, a palpable surge of emotion crashing over you like a tidal wave.

In that harrowing moment, your heartbeat quickened, each thud resonating with the weight of sorrow and anger. The air itself seemed to constrict, tainted with the bitter aftertaste of an impending storm. The onslaught of emotions clawed at your chest, a tumultuous dance between sadness and anger, each one vying for dominance in the chaotic symphony of your soul.

Powerlessness wraps around you like a suffocating shroud, the absence of your brightest star leaving a void that seems insurmountable.

In this moment of staggering loss, the future unfolds as a vast expanse of uncertainty. How do you navigate a world without the radiant glow she once brought to your existence?

Yet, as the weight of grief presses down, a resilient ember flickers within. Acknowledging the inexorable march of time, you realize that her memory, like a cherished constellation, will be a guiding light in the night sky of your life.

In the tapestry of your emotions, she, alongside your parents, becomes one of the celestial beacons you look up to during moments of sorrow or when life's burdens become too overwhelming.

You step out onto the balcony, enveloped by the velvety embrace of the dark blue sky.

The resplendent moon takes center stage, surrounded by a constellation of bright companions that twinkle in the vast expanse of the night. The beauty of the cosmos is a bittersweet solace, a celestial dance that captivates your gaze.

The night sky has always held a captivating allure for you, but in the wake of the profound loss of your parents, it transcends mere beauty.

It becomes a sanctuary, a cosmic tapestry where memories linger among the stars. Each celestial beacon now carries the weight of cherished moments, transforming the night into a sacred canvas where the brilliance of your loved ones continues to shine, casting a radiant glow that lingers in the quiet moments of contemplation.

The subtle hum of your phone reverberates in your hand, a clandestine messenger that disrupts the tranquility of your thoughts, setting loose a cascade of emotions.

The screen lights up with a message from a friend, its arrival like a seismic tremor in the landscape of your contemplations, shaking loose the delicate balance you've tried so desperately to maintain.

Yuna [20.31]: Iseul’s funeral is on Saturday. We’re all going. U coming?🌹

Dread settles in the pit of your stomach like a heavy anchor – the thought of attending the funeral feels like navigating a tempest of emotions you're not sure you're prepared to weather.

The prospect of confronting tears, raw emotion, and the grieving presence of her family looms before you, casting a shadow over the already somber occasion.

Yet, duty intertwines with reluctance; you were her best friend, after all.

The expectation to pay your respects becomes an unspoken mandate, tugging at the seams of your resolve despite the storm of discomfort that brews within.

Tears have become an unwelcome torrent on your phone, transforming the smooth surface into a slippery terrain that complicates every attempt to type.

The screen blurs beneath a watery veil, mirroring the tumultuous cascade in your own eyes. Distraction clings to each droplet, making it not only challenging to navigate the phone but also to see through the emotional downpour that clouds your vision.

But against the deluge of sorrow and the weight of grief, you summon the strength for a brief reply, a fragile lifeline tossed into the turbulent sea of emotions.

You [20.46]: Yes🌹

With a heavy sigh, you gently lay your phone face-down on the nightstand, as if shielding the illuminated screen from the weight of the world you've just momentarily set aside.

How do you navigate this desolate landscape that life has become?

The void feels more palpable now, a haunting echo of emptiness that had lingered even before.

It's as if the very essence of existence has been drained away, leaving you grappling with the profound question: What is the point when the world around you continues to crumble, and people around you just keep dying?

At Iseul's funeral, you navigated the somber scene alongside your friend group, bracing for the emotional maelstrom that awaited.

The atmosphere unfolded exactly as you had anticipated — a tableau of tears, grief-stricken family members, and the embrace of mournful hugs. Conversations echoed with memories of Iseul's radiant spirit, each word a bittersweet tribute to the bright and bubbly soul that once graced your lives.

Amidst the collective sorrow, the air hung heavy with the weight of loss, weaving a tapestry of emotions that spoke to the indelible impact Iseul had left behind.

It was agonizing, bidding farewell in the harsh reality of acceptance. The harsh truth of life unveiled itself – an unrelenting cycle of departures.

Yet, amidst the crushing finality, you find solace in the enduring promise that even though everyone leaves, the stars above will forever bear witness to her presence, a cosmic constellation of memories that will continue to illuminate the canvas of your nights.

Work persists in its mundane rhythm, the monotony punctuated only by the forced smiles you offer customers as you brew their coffee or recommend delectable treats in the cafe.

For you, work has forever remained a sterile landscape, devoid of passion or purpose. The unfulfilled yearning for a meaningful career tugs at the edges of your consciousness, a persistent ache exacerbated by life's unrelenting cruelty—your unfinished degree in astrophysics stands as a testament to dreams deferred. Maybe you’ll go back to school – you don’t know.

Your thoughts are abruptly shattered by a brash intrusion, a man’s voice slicing through the ambient noise with an unwarranted familiarity. “Hi, pretty,” he drawls, snapping your attention to the present, “can I get a black coffee, a muffin, and your number, please?”

The audacious request hangs in the air, leaving a charged pause that crackles with a blend of amusement and annoyance.

You stifle a silent scoff, a careful veil to conceal the simmering irritation within, though the indignation is palpable.

This flirtatious interlude is far from novel—far from the first time someone has attempted to weave charm into the fabric of your workday. Yet, a discomforting truth lingers beneath your composed exterior: you disdain these unwarranted advances, a sentiment you've carried with you each time such encounters stain the ordinary canvas of your work.

Forcing a smile that feels more like a fragile mask, you locate a muffin, navigating the familiar routine with practiced efficiency.

As you approach the coffee machine to craft the requested brew, you gather both items and, with a subtle sigh, slide them across the counter.

Your words, delivered with a polite cadence, carry a hint of firmness as you say, “Here you go. Apologies, but my number isn't on the menu.”

Turning men down has become a skill honed through the crucible of experience, a necessity etched into the fabric of your being, especially after the wreckage of your last relationship.

It wasn't just a breakup; it was a tempest that left you bruised, not only on the surface but also in the recesses of your soul.

To declare a dread of relationships, despite the quiet longing that flickers deep within, would be an understatement—the mere thought evokes the echoes of a tumultuous past, a cautionary tale etched in both physical and emotional hues of black and blue.

Despite the man's disapproving frown, he begrudgingly parts with his payment, snatching his coffee and muffin.

As he vacates the space, you extend a tight-lipped greeting to the next customer, the forced smile a delicate masquerade concealing the intricacies of emotion churning beneath the surface.

Day after day unfolds in this relentless routine, a relentless loop where, despite the suffocating weight of depression, you muster the strength to haul yourself into work.

The struggle is an unspoken battle, fought in the silent recesses of your soul, and each morning becomes a victory against the persistent darkness that threatens to engulf your spirit.

You maintain a lifeline to your friends, weaving a narrative of your somber mood and emotional tumult, acutely aware of the significance of vocalizing your feelings rather than succumbing to the perilous grip of silent suffering.

Recent conversations with your friends have taken an unexpected turn, steering into the realm of your dating life or, more accurately, its conspicuous absence.

Their fervent advocacy for you to reenter the world of romance echoes in your ears, their well-intentioned pleas urging you to cross paths with someone great and amazing.

However, you find yourself standing at the crossroads of uncertainty, unsure if you're ready to navigate the labyrinth of love once more.

Despite your reservations, you indulge them, allowing their words to wash over you like a waterfall of unsolicited advice, all the while steadfast in your understanding that a man is not a prerequisite for happiness or the completeness of your life—you've long recognized your ability to stand firm and flourish on your own terms.

An entire season has unfurled its tapestry, and while the vast void persists within the caverns of your heart, there's a subtle transformation underway. Amidst the lingering shadows, a sliver of the sun's warm rays threads its way through, gently illuminating the emptiness.

The caress of warm weather and sunlight manages to coax a faint lift in your mood, a subtle thawing of the emotional frost.

Yet, amidst the burgeoning warmth, there's a yearning for the crispness of cold, the kind that invites the comfort of wool sweaters and socks, beckoning a desire to cocoon on the couch and lose yourself in the embrace of solitude.

After withstanding the relentless onslaught of your friends' persistent prodding into the realm of your love life, you've yielded to the chorus of their well-meaning badgering. With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, you've made the bold decision to reenter the intricate dance of the dating game.

The prospect of discovering 'the one' remains shrouded in uncertainty, a delicate balance between the promise of profound connection and the potential peril of heartache from those who might not treat you right.

However, the ambiguity of the journey doesn't deter your resolve. To remain passive is to forfeit the chance at something extraordinary.

The echoes of Iseul and the silent encouragement from your departed parents reverberate, urging you to embrace life with all its intricate hues. Their unwritten wish for your happiness becomes the compass guiding your path, compelling you to take the plunge and give it your all.

You yearn for a life where the pursuit of happiness isn't punctuated by the haunting inevitability of departures and loss. You grasp the harsh truth that people leaving or departing through death is an inescapable facet of existence, a relentless current in the river of life.

Yet, the recurring tide of sorrow that washes over you each time someone departs feels burdensome, a weight that anchors your spirit. It would be a cherished reprieve if the ebb and flow of life's transitions didn't carry with it a relentless undertow that threatens to drag you down each time.

Your dating escapades have unfolded like a series of misadventures, each rendezvous more perplexing than the last.

One suitor wielded an aggressive tone that eclipsed any potential connection, while another was so absorbed in self-interest that your voice seemed but an echo in the conversation. Then there was the one who sought solace in your company to mend a broken heart, an unwitting participant in their quest for emotional repair.

With every disappointing encounter, your hopes wane like the dying embers of a once-bright flame. Yet, undeterred, you persist in the pursuit of connection, a resilient soul navigating the unpredictable seas of dating with unwavering determination.

Amidst the tumultuous sea of advice from your friends, the suggestion of a night out clubbing emerges as a potential remedy to jumpstart your dating life—a one-night stand, a shortcut to reclaiming agency over your love life.

However, the proposition fails to align with the essence of who you are. The neon-lit allure of the club scene doesn't resonate with your soul, and the idea of a fleeting encounter doesn't hold the promise you seek.

Nonetheless, you find yourself engulfed in a pulsating sea of sound, the music in the club roaring, the bass reverberating through the floor and into your bones.

The atmosphere is a maelstrom of heat and sweat, a suffocating embrace that intensifies your regret for being there.

Yuna, exuding an air of confidence, takes charge and orders a round of drinks for the group. Meanwhile, Nari's eyes scan the lively chaos of the club, a vigilant matchmaker on a mission to uncover potential matches for you.

Her finger extends with a pointed certainty toward a mysterious figure—a dark-haired man sporting a sleeveless shirt, the canvas of his arm adorned with an intricate tattoo sleeve. His dark eyes, scanning the crowded expanse of the club, carry an enigmatic intensity, hinting at a captivating allure that goes beyond the surface.

Your laughter carries a blend of amusement and skepticism as you dismissively remark, “Nah, he's giving off major fuckboy vibes.”

Amidst the cacophony of pounding music in the club, Nari practically shouts in your face, her words punctuating the beat as she insists, “Maybe that's exactly what you need!”

The intensity of her proclamation, a fervent plea for spontaneity, reverberates in the air, a challenge thrown into the whirlwind of the night's possibilities.

You shake your head, a firm yet polite rejection lingering on your lips, “No, thank you.”

Just as the tension subsides, Yuna appears with a tray of drinks, a timely distraction. Gratefully, you accept your drink, savoring the sweet and sour concoction that dances across your palate, momentarily providing respite from the charged atmosphere of the club.

The night unfolds in a rhythm of measured indulgence—a few drinks to chase a gentle buzz, steering clear of the edge of intoxication. Your gaze scans the crowd in search of potential matches, but amidst the pulsating lights and swirling music, none captures the elusive spark that ignites a genuine interest.

As the night deepens and the rhythm of the club starts to fade, you bid farewell to your friends, the weight of the evening settling in your bones.

Stepping out into the nocturnal air, you're greeted by the relentless cascade of rain, a torrential downpour that catches you off guard. Damn it, you realize, a surge of annoyance coursing through you, you didn't bring an umbrella.

Embracing a sudden burst of defiance, you make a split-second decision, a resolute ‘fuck it’ echoing in your mind.

Stepping onto the sidewalk without the shelter of an umbrella, you surrender to the unrelenting rain. In mere moments, your hair clings to your skin, and your clothes succumb to the downpour.

As you navigate the labyrinth of alleys and pass by numerous apartments, a peculiar low noise infiltrates the ambient hum of the rain. What is that sound?

It's a subtle yet persistent calling that arrests your movements, compelling you to strain your senses in an attempt to decipher its origin.

It's not just your slightly tipsy mind, is it, playing tricks on you?

The cadence of the noise feels like a desperate plea, an ethereal call for help that beckons you into a mysterious dance between reality and the unknown.

Undeterred by the absence of street lamps, you navigate a shadowy alleyway nestled between looming apartment complexes. The darkness cloaks the path ahead, but you press on, an intrepid explorer drawn to the mystery that lies beyond the veil of obscurity.

As you draw nearer, the enigmatic noise crescendos in intensity, a haunting melody that pierces the quiet of the alley.

Your steps quicken, and with each stride, the source becomes clearer. Could it be emanating from the depths of the dumpster?

A sense of déjà vu wraps around you, as if this eerie scene has been lifted from a cinematic reel. The dilemma tugs at your curiosity, tempting you to peer into the abyss of the dumpster, a choice that hangs in the balance.

Yet, before you make a decision, a glimmer of relief washes over you.

Nestled snugly beside the dumpster, a small ball of fur captivates your attention, its presence a stark contrast to the ominous shadows.

A silhouette emerges from the darkness, and as you inch closer, the mystery unfolds into a shivering, meowing figure—a black cat.

The frailness of the tiny creature tugs at your heartstrings, and you find yourself hunching down, extending a tentative invitation with soft calls, coaxing the small, ebony bundle to bridge the gap between its vulnerability and your outstretched hand.

The black cat fixes its gaze upon you, eyes mirroring a blend of uncertainty and wariness, as if it's attempting to decipher the intentions behind your outstretched hand.

The black cat stirs from its initial hesitation, uttering plaintive meows that seem to echo its distress. As it rises, the stark reality becomes evident—malnourished and shrouded in fear, it moves tentatively towards you. Each step seems to echo a history of abandonment and struggle. With aching slowness, the feline inches closer, navigating the wet ground with trepidation.

Softly, you beckon the malnourished feline closer, the words “Come here, you poor thing” carrying an invitation laced with compassion.

As the tiny creature inches nearer, its pitch-black eyes become an intense focal point, a gaze that transcends the physical realm, peering into the depths of your soul. In that poignant exchange, a silent pact forms—an unspoken promise of comfort and understanding between two beings, each seeking solace in the other's company.

As the fragile black cat draws near, an echo from your past resurfaces—the cautionary words of your mother reverberating in your mind. ‘Black cats bring omen and death,’ her voice, etched in childhood memories, had warned.

Yet, confronted with the stark vulnerability of this shivering, lost creature in the cold summer rain, you find your resolve tested.

Against the weight of your mother's superstitions, compassion prevails, and you make a conscious decision to offer refuge. You haven’t got anything else to lose, but yourself.

The cat's purrs resonate in the quiet alley, a melodic response to the tentative connection forming between you. Meows become a symphony of trust as it finally caresses your hand, a delicate dance of vulnerability.

With a newfound intimacy, it leans into your touch, climbing up your arm to find refuge in your lap. Despite your jacket's damp embrace, you pull the shivering creature closer, enfolding it tightly against your chest.

“I’ll take you home and get you some food.”

Rising from the damp alley, you cradle the tiny black cat in your arms, an intimate embrace that transcends the physicality of the moment. As you navigate the journey home, each step becomes a testament to the newfound connection—its fragile heartbeat resonating against your chest.

As you finally reach the sanctuary of your home, both you and the shivering cat are thoroughly drenched from the relentless rain.

With a twist of the key, you unlock the door to your small apartment, ushering in a breath of warmth that contrasts sharply with the damp chill outside.

In a choreography of relief, you kick off your sodden shoes, the cat nestled at your feet. Unburdened by the weight of the rain-soaked coat, you hang it on the rack, a visual symbol of the transition from the stormy world outside to the comforting refuge within the four walls of your home.

“I'll find you a towel and dry you off,” you promise to the cat, your words a tender reassurance before your feet. With a sense of urgency, you hasten to the bathroom, a quest for a towel becoming a mission to provide comfort to your newfound companion.

As you return, traces of wet footprints mark the path from the entryway to your living room, leading to the sight of the cat perched regally on your couch.

The unexpected image elicits a sense of awe within you, a silent marvel at the fortuitous encounter that has unfolded. With the fluffy towel in hand, you join the tiny creature on the couch.

With gentle strokes, you tenderly dry the cat with the fluffy towel, the rhythmic purrs and meows resonating like a melody of gratitude.

In this intimate act of care, a bond forms between you and the feline, its response a testament to the shared understanding that has quietly blossomed.

The dampness of the storm may linger outside, but within the confines of your home, a warmth permeates, forged through the simple yet profound act of offering comfort to a fragile soul.

Persistently, the cat continues its chorus of meows, its nearly obsidian eyes fixed on you with an intensity that transcends mere feline curiosity. In the silent exchange, a profound question lingers in the air—what does it want?

The gaze carries an almost pleading quality, an unspoken plea that invites you to unravel the mysteries hidden within those enigmatic eyes, and in doing so, embark on a journey of connection and understanding with this small, mysterious soul.

A revelation flickers in your mind like a sudden burst of light—food!

The realization washes over you, and a spark of understanding illuminates the unspoken hunger behind those pleading eyes. “You're starving, ain't ya?” you murmur, the words a bridge between the two of you, an acknowledgment of shared needs and the beginning of a silent commitment to provide not just shelter but sustenance to this small, hungry soul.

In a hurried dance between care and necessity, you dart into the kitchen, swinging open the fridge door to unleash a blast of cold air.

The realization that your wet clothes might lead to an impending cold nudges at you, urging a brief pause for self-care. As you contemplate changing into dry attire, the cat, now a nimble companion, weaves around your feet, a symphony of meows echoing its anticipation of the impending feast.

As your gaze sweeps across the contents of the fridge, a flurry of questions dance in your mind—what do cats like?

In a moment of culinary improvisation, you spot the remnants of yesterday's fish. A hopeful assumption takes hold—cats like fish, right?

Without a second thought, you snatch the container, crack it open, and ceremoniously place it on the floor.

The cat descends upon the fish with a voracity that borders on desperation, consuming it in a whirlwind of seconds.

You observe in silent fascination as the cat devours the fish with an almost primal fervor, each bite a testament to the depth of its hunger.

As the cat lifts its gaze, those dark, fond eyes fixate on you, a silent expression of gratitude that transcends words, forging a connection that lingers in the air like the sweet aftertaste of an unexpected bond.

You retrieve a bowl, fill it with water, and place it on the floor. The cat, having satisfied its hunger, wastes no time. It immediately dips its tongue into the water, each lap a testament to the thirst that had accompanied its hunger.

In the quiet aftermath of the cat's meal, you find yourself engaged in a one-sided conversation. While it laps up the water, you speak to it with a hint of longing, as if expecting the feline to reveal its name with a mere glance. “I don't know what your name is…” you muse aloud, your words hanging in the air like a silent plea for connection.

In the exchange, a profound yearning takes root—a desire not just to care for this creature but to unravel the mystery that shrouds it, beginning with the revelation of a name.

Hmm... A whimsical idea takes shape in your mind, and with a voice full of hope, you share your musings with the feline companion. “I don't know, maybe I'll give you one!” you exclaim, the words tinged with the excitement of a newfound connection.

Testing the waters, you propose a couple of names with a hopeful lilt in your voice. “Shadow?” you venture, eyes fixated on the cat, seeking any flicker of recognition.

Yet, met with a stoic demeanor, you playfully offer another option, “Licorice?”

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, but the cat remains unfazed, engrossed in its culinary pursuits.

Embracing a sudden surge of inspiration, you think of a name that dances on the edges of whimsy and mischief. “You look like a 'Loki,' like a God of Mischief!” The words tumble out with a playful chuckle, a nod to the elusive charm that shrouds the feline.

To your surprise, the cat interrupts its feast, casting what seems like a dumbfounded expression your way.

A moment of shared acknowledgment hangs in the air before the cat resumes its meal, leaving you to wonder if, in that fleeting pause, you've glimpsed the spark of recognition in its enigmatic eyes.

An impromptu burst of enthusiasm seizes you, and with an abrupt yell, you christen the cat in a moment of whimsy. “Kitten!”

The exclamation is so sudden that it startles the cat, prompting a small leap in surprise. “That's your name. You're so small, like a little kitten,” you playfully jest, mimicking the affectionate cooing one might give to a baby.

In the imaginary realm where cats understand human whims, you half-expect a hypothetical eye-roll, as if the creature were a miniature human indulging in the theatrics of a quirky naming ceremony.

In the wake of your spontaneous naming ceremony, Kitten darts away, a streak of fur and energy leaving you in its playful wake. A fleeting attempt to follow its swift movements reveals the futility of keeping pace with this agile companion.

An earnest plea escapes your lips, “No, don't run away, Kitten!” A plea that halts not far from your bedroom, where a sudden idea takes root. “We're going to bed, and you can even sleep in my bed.” The promise hangs in the air, an invitation that sparks the cat's curiosity.

Without hesitation, Kitten races back to you, weaving through your legs and darting into the bedroom. It watches itself in the mirror in front of your bed, before it in a graceful leap, lands on the bed, transforming this impromptu offer into a shared moment of warmth and companionship.

A soft chuckle escapes you as Kitten, with a graceful twirl, transforms into a snug, fluffy black ball. It settles onto the bed, a picture of contentment and trust, the rhythmic rise and fall of its breathing echoing in the room.

In the sanctuary of your bathroom, the day's residue fades away as you delicately remove stained makeup and indulge in your nightly skincare rituals.

With a sense of quiet reverence, you return to the bedroom, mindful not to disrupt Kitten's serene repose. Nestled in bed, you prop yourself up, the rhythmic routine a prelude to the tranquility that envelops the room.

As you surrender to the embrace of sleep, the ethereal presence of the black cat becomes a silent companion in the journey between waking and dreams, a guardian of the night's secrets.

In the intimate company of Kitten, you find solace in the honesty of your own reflection. “He wasn't really for me, Kitten. I don't know why I keep going on these dates. They amount to nothing.” A sigh punctuates your admission, a subtle echo of the unspoken search for connection that seems elusive in the realm of human encounters.

As you delve into a shared meal with your newfound family member – Kitten, you stuff your face with delicious food in an attempt to keep your minds off your failing romantic life.

Kitten responds to your words with a series of gentle meows, a seemingly agreeable chorus that resonates in the room.

Over the past few days, he has transformed into an impeccable listener, absorbing the tapestry of your thoughts with silent grace.

In the quiet moments of your soliloquies, a yearning surfaces—a desire for more than a feline confidant, for words that echo back with advice and wisdom.

Yet, despite this unfulfilled wish, Kitten's silent companionship remains a source of profound comfort, his presence weaving seamlessly into the fabric of your daily life, a testament to the unexpected connections that emerge in the quiet interludes of solitude.

Consistent as the rhythm of a heartbeat, Kitten is there, a patient sentinel awaiting your return from the hustle of the day.

His presence becomes a cherished routine, an embodiment of comfort that transcends the mundanity of the everyday.

As you settle in front of the television, Kitten gracefully claims his place in your lap, his form snuggling into the contours of your warmth.

The scene unfolds like a silent ballet, a dance between two beings finding solace in the quietude of shared moments—a testament to the profound bond that has blossomed in the intimate spaces of your daily life.

On a day marked by what you'd deem a successful date, you decide to bring the guy home to your apartment.

Kitten welcomes you with joyous meows, but the moment his obsidian eyes lock onto the man, a palpable shift occurs.

The cat's once-hospitable demeanor morphs into a display of territorial assertion—he hisses, claws unsheathed, a guardian of the sacred space that has become both haven and sanctuary.

Unfazed by Kitten's display of discontent, the man follows you into the bedroom, a trail of unresolved tension lingering in the air. However, as you attempt to navigate the fragile balance between human relationships and the silent protests of your feline confidant, Kitten stalks in with palpable anger.

Kitten's claws assert their protest on the man's pants, a silent plea echoing through the room. “I'm so sorry about my cat. He's not usually like this,” you hastily apologize, attempting to navigate the tumultuous intersection of human connection and feline territoriality.

In the midst of the uneasy dance, the guy gently guides you down onto the bed, a kiss bridging the gap between words left unsaid and the uncharted landscapes of desire.

In an unforeseen twist, Kitten catapults onto the bed, launching a surprise attack on the poor man's back with unbridled ferocity.

The room erupts with a sudden commotion as the guy yells in pain, Kitten swiftly retreating to the shelter of your startled embrace.

Frustration and pain tinge the man's voice as he vehemently declares, “Fuck this. This isn't worth it! Your cat is a fucking psycho!”

The words hang in the air, a bitter testament to the unexpected turbulence that has unraveled in the wake of Kitten's feline intervention.

With an angry storm, the man storms out of your bedroom and through the front door, leaving behind a charged atmosphere and the unresolved echoes of a connection unraveling at the seams.

As the storm of emotions settles, Kitten finds solace in your lap, a contented purr resonating through the room—a feline sovereign basking in the aftermath of his territorial triumph.

Meanwhile, you remain seated, mouth agape, an image of stunned disbelief etched across your face.

You address Kitten with a scolding tone, attempting to impart a sense of reprimand into the air. “You can't do that, Kitten!” you assert, a firmness in your voice attempting to breach the language barrier between human and feline.

Amidst the aftermath, a hesitant chuckle escapes your lips, a soft attempt to diffuse the tension that lingers in the air. “Also, you're gonna leave me single forever if you do that,” you jest, the words bearing the weight of both humor and a subtle unease.

In the ambiguous space between laughter and contemplation, you grapple with the conflicting emotions stirred by Kitten's unexpected display of protectiveness—a complex blend of gratitude, amusement, and the uncharted territories of understanding the intricate dynamics of companionship with a creature whose language transcends the boundaries of words.

A solitary figure with raven-black hair occupies a corner table in the cafe, his presence shrouded in an air of quiet mystery that tugs at the edges of your memory.

Intrigued, you've stolen glances at him, an unspoken connection sparking curiosity within you.

The man, seemingly lost in a world of words and sketches within the pages of his journal, emanates a strange familiarity that dances on the fringes of your consciousness.

As he sips on his coffee, a poignant picture of solitude and anticipation, you can't help but wonder about the untold story woven into the fabric of his contemplative gaze. Perhaps he's a poet awaiting inspiration, or maybe, like you, he's caught in the delicate dance of anticipation, waiting for someone who may never arrive.

His long, pitch-black hair cascades in soft curls, framing a face adorned with dark, expressive eyes. The fair and creamy complexion of his skin, paired with lips tinged with the aftermath of fervent bites, adds an air of mystery to his features. His hands, adorned with prominent veins, move with purpose across the pages of his journal, translating the thoughts within his mind into tangible strokes. Clad in a black leather biker jacket and ripped jeans, he emanates a ‘bad boy’ allure that might not align with your usual preferences, yet there's an undeniable handsomeness that transcends the surface. As you observe, the truth unfolds—looks can be deceiving, you know.

As the hands of the clock inch towards the conclusion of your shift, you notice the enigmatic man with the pitch-black hair has vanished, leaving only the echo of his presence lingering in the now vacant corner.

The air is charged with the unspoken allure of an encounter that slipped through the fingers of time.

Packing up your belongings, you carry the weight of curiosity with you as you embark on the journey home, where the enigmatic enigma of Kitten awaits.

Kitten, sensing your return, greets you with a symphony of affectionate meows. Your hand instinctively reaches out, weaving a tapestry of gentle pats and strokes, an unspoken language shared between human and feline. With a contented sigh escaping your lips, you murmur, “Happy to be home.”

In the quiet sanctuary of your apartment, you find yourself recounting the day's enigmatic encounter to Kitten, the words lingering in the air like a shared secret between kindred spirits. “I saw the loneliest guy today, Kitten. It felt like he was waiting for someone, but destiny stood him up.”

As the words escape your lips, Kitten's attentive gaze reflects an unspoken understanding, a silent pact shared between you and your feline confidant.

Your fingers delicately dance behind Kitten's ears, a gesture that elicits a symphony of contented purrs, resonating within the confines of your quiet haven.

The next day unfolds like a familiar scene, the cafe's atmosphere steeped in the aroma of coffee and the rustle of pages turning.

Once again, the mysterious black-haired man graces the corner with his presence, accompanied by a steaming cup of coffee and the enigmatic dance of his pen across the pages of his journal.

Your curiosity, a flame flickering in the recesses of your thoughts, draws you to the edge of decision — to approach and unravel the mysteries that cloak him. Yet, an invisible barrier holds you back, a silent pact with yourself not to disturb the solitary poet whose verses remain unread.

The elusive man, shrouded in the mystery of unread words, remains a realm unexplored, as each coffee order becomes a bridge guarded by your coworker.

As the day unfolds, the mysterious man persists in his corner, a captivating enigma that draws your attention like a moth to a flame.

The rhythmic ballet of your daily routine continues, an intricate dance of serving customers while stealing glances in his direction.

In the quiet recesses of your mind, a burning question simmers – who could possibly stand up this captivating soul, adorned with the allure of dark hair and an air of mystery that commands the room?

After days of observing the silent saga of the man and his solitude, a week of unbroken routine, your empathy swells like a rising tide.

A magnetic force compels you to bridge the distance, and against the backdrop of the cafe's ambient hum, your feet, as if guided by an invisible hand, carry you to the table where he patiently awaits an absent companion.

With a mix of curiosity and compassion, you settle into the chair opposite him, breaking the invisible barrier that held you apart.

As your presence disrupts the solitude he had grown accustomed to, his intense gaze, reminiscent of a predatory feline, lifts from the pages of his journal to meet your own. The sharpness in his eyes feels like a calculated assessment, causing a subtle tremor to course through you. You gulp.

“Hi,” you start, the uncertainty palpable in your voice. Attempting to mask your nervousness, your fingers run through your hair, a feeble defense against the anxious tide.

“I’ve noticed you here alone for the past few days, and I just—” Your words stumble, caught in the rush, but before you can continue, he interjects with a voice sharp as a blade, his eyes piercing through you like he can unravel your deepest secrets.

“Are you stalking me?” The question hangs in the air, and his gaze feels like an X-ray, laying bare your darkest thoughts. Your body seizes, frozen in the penetrating gaze that seems to pry into the very recesses of your soul.

Why does his voice carry a hint of familiarity, resonating through the air like an echo from another time?

His very presence, too, feels like a distant memory, even though you're certain you hadn't laid eyes on him before he entered the cafe a week ago.

A subtle smirk plays on his lips, a realization dawning on you that he's asked a question. As you attempt to gather your thoughts, you find yourself choking on air, grappling to string together a coherent response.

“I'm kidding. I know you work here,” he chuckles, and you release a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Your shoulders ease, and in an instant, you respond with a soft smile, a subtle connection forming in that shared moment of relief.

“Are you waiting for someone?” you inquire, and a smile graces his face, revealing gleaming white teeth and pink gums. He looks cute. Dangerously so.

“Nah. She just arrived.” Your eyes light up. Finally, his date has shown up! You start to rise from your chair, eager to make space for his companion. He looks up at you, a curious expression on his face, and asks, “What are you doing?”

“Making room for your date?” you quip, utterly dumbfounded.

“Date?” he asks with a raised brow. You nod, adding, “The one you’ve been waiting for.”

“But I’m already looking at her.” Your mouth hangs wide open; did you just hear him right? Is this a pickup line? And why on earth is it working?

You chuckle nervously, the sound a stark contrast to his calm and cool demeanor.

You ease back into your chair, and the conversation flows so naturally that you feel like you've known him for years.

Upon returning home, you excitedly share the details of your day with Kitten, recounting the encounter with the handsome man with his curly hair and piercing eyes. While you stroke Kitten and he purrs contentedly, you express your perplexity about the strange sense of familiarity the man emanated, despite being certain you've never met him before.

Kitten twirls and purrs in your lap, savoring the gentle strokes as you recline on your couch.

“I can't help but wonder if he'll be there again tomorrow,” you muse, your voice a soft melody to the room, accompanied by Kitten's content purrs.

He returned to the cafe the next day, and the next and the next turned into weeks.

He dedicates every moment to his secluded corner, and during your breaks you find solace in the cadence of your conversations. His name, Yoongi, resonates with the soulful poems that he breathes life into with his well-worn guitar. You’ve never heard him play or sing, but you look forward to the day you might.

His question pierces through the hum of the café, abruptly pulling you from your reverie as you delicately nibble on your muffin. “Are you heading home for the summer break?” he inquires, the unexpected interruption leaving a sweet and curious taste lingering on your lips.

As his question hangs in the air, you lock eyes with him, realizing he might not grasp the gravity of his inquiry.

There's a momentary sag in your shoulders, a silent acknowledgment of the pain that lies beneath. Gathering the strength to respond, you share a piece of your past, “No. My parents died when I was young.”

Regret casts a shadow over his striking features in an instant, and you witness a profound apology escaping from his lips.

“I'm holding up okay. It's a tale from a while back. A car accident took my parents, leaving just my little sister and me as survivors,” you share, a poignant sadness threading through your words, your eyes misting with the memories.

He tenderly offers words of comfort, a soothing balm for your weary soul, and you allow him to lift the heaviness that clings to your spirit.

You beam at him, grateful for the warmth that radiates from his kind soul, a presence you've grown to cherish over the past few months. “And you, any exciting plans for the summer?”

“I might have to go home to my parents for a bit, but I’m not sure yet,” he shares, absentmindedly running his fingers through his soft black locks, a gesture that makes you yearn for the touch of your own hand in that sea of darkness.

“I'm telling you, bitch!” Nari slaps Yuna's thigh, a bit too enthusiastically, causing her to flinch in pain, as Nari adds with a sly grin, “She's head over heels in loooove.”

You roll your eyes at both of them, their playful banter fading into background noise as you savor the drink that Yuna ordered for you.

You've navigated downtown, finding refuge in a cozy establishment where the ambient tunes, board games, and drinks create the perfect backdrop for reconnecting with your friends.

“I swear, I'm not head over heels or anything,” you insist, batting away their teasing with a playful smirk, all the while sipping on the drink that Yuna ordered for you.

“He’s just nice,” you add with a soft smile.

“You sure do talk about him a lot,” Yuna adds in a chuckle as she rubs her thigh.

“Well, he's an interesting person, and the conversations just flow,” you reply with a grin, downplaying the significance, but your friends exchange knowing glances that hint at their suspicions.

Nari takes a sip of her drink, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Speaking of crushes, your little companion, what's his name again? Kitten?”

You passionately defend Kitten, your eyes sparkling with affection. “Don't bring Kitten into this! I adore him,” you gush, wearing your love for the little furball as a badge of honor.

Nari shares her romantic wisdom, her words dripping with affection. “Cats are fine companions, but you should find a man who can bring you warmth and happiness,” she says, her eyes practically turning into hearts if this were a cartoon. You can't help but chuckle at her earnest advice.

Yuna playfully nudges your shoulder and suggests, “You should totally ask out this Yoongi guy. I mean, come on, you practically light up every time you talk about him.”

You pause, a moment of uncertainty hanging in the air. “Maybe,” you finally reply, your words carrying the weight of contemplation.

Nari's enthusiasm rings in your ears, a bit too loud in the cozy ambiance. “You don't have anything to lose, only more to gain!” she almost shouts, her excitement reaching its peak. Her words, fueled by a touch of intoxication, linger in the air, leaving you to ponder as you consider whether it's time to call it a night.

“Okay. I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

As you step into your apartment, Kitten greets you with an extra dose of affection, weaving himself between your legs and trailing you with heightened attention. Tonight, he appears more attuned to your every move, purring and twirling around your legs with an endearing neediness. Settling down, you can't resist his charms and find yourself seated, offering gentle strokes to his fur-covered frame.

As you wrap up your nightly routine and slip into your comfortable pajamas, you turn to Kitten with a question that has become a familiar part of your routine.

“I'm heading to bed, Kitten. You joining?” Kitten promptly leaps onto the bed, taking his customary place by your side.

However, tonight, there's a lingering sense of affection in his actions. He showers you with gentle licks, a gesture that brings a smile to your face. As sleep gradually claims you, your dreams are adorned with vivid images of obsidian eyes and a dark, star-studded sky.

As you awaken from a restful sleep, the absence of Kitten by your side strikes you like a sudden jolt.

Your initial response is to sit up, calling out for him, yet there's only silence in return.

The quietness, once comforting, now carries an eerie weight as you realize the profound impact Kitten has had on your daily life.

The room feels emptier, and a sense of unease settles in, disrupting the peace you've grown accustomed to.

A wave of melancholy washes over you, creating a heavy ache in your chest as you scan the familiar corners of your apartment, desperately searching for any sign of Kitten.

The unanswered questions pile up in your mind, a torrent of worries threatening to drown you. Did he, too, decide to leave, slipping away like others from your life?

The uncertainty gnaws at you, pushing you to venture into the quiet streets, hoping against hope to uncover the fate of your feline companion. Each step is a mix of trepidation and determination, a journey into the unknown to retrieve the missing piece of your daily existence.

A sense of desperation tightens its grip as you scour every nook and cranny, but Kitten remains elusive, leaving you with the bitter taste of vanishing hope.

The echoes of your unanswered calls hang in the air, blending with the growing unease that clings to you like a shadow. The once familiar spaces now feel like a maze, and you can't shake the sinking feeling that your luck is slipping away, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. The haunting question persists: where could he be, and what could have taken him from your side?

With a mixture of determination and trepidation, your feet instinctively carry you back to the cafe.

The familiar chime announces your arrival, drawing the attention of your coworker, who casts a puzzled look your way. The early hour has caught them off guard, their raised eyebrow mirroring the questions that dance in your own mind.

As you scan the cozy confines of the cafe, a subtle panic begins to creep through your veins. The absence of Yoongi creates an uneasy knot in your stomach, but you reassure yourself, clinging to the hope that he might stroll in later, as he often does.

The hours drag on, each passing moment heightening the anticipation. As the door chimes with every newcomer, a flicker of hope dances in your chest, only to be extinguished when it's not Yoongi.

The day becomes a symphony of disappointment, and the subtle hope you clung to begins to dissipate, slipping through your fingers like elusive grains of sand. The cafe, once a haven of warmth and comfort, now feels eerily empty without the presence of his familiar silhouette.

As your shift draws to a close, a heavy sadness settles over you like a thick fog. The absence of Yoongi, who always brought a touch of warmth to the cafe, leaves an emptiness that echoes through the familiar surroundings. The unanswered questions linger in your mind, and a nagging worry creeps in — what could have kept him away?

The air is charged with uncertainty, and you can't shake the feeling that something might have happened to him.

A sudden realization hits you like a wave, as you recall Yoongi mentioning the possibility of traveling to his parents for the summer break.

The initial sting of disappointment transforms into a pang of concern. Questions swirl in your mind like a tempest – did he leave without saying goodbye? Why didn't he share his plans with you?

The uncertainty gnaws at your thoughts, and you grapple with the unknown, desperately seeking solace in the memories of your time together.

A disquieting sensation twists in your stomach, an ominous premonition casting a shadow over your thoughts. The unease tightens its grip, leaving you with an unsettling sense that something may have befallen Yoongi.

Your mind races through various scenarios, each more distressing than the last, as you grapple with the haunting uncertainty that looms over his absence.

Regret echoes through your thoughts like a haunting refrain. The absence of contact details with Yoongi leaves you grappling with the repercussions of a missed opportunity, a seemingly insignificant detail now carrying the weight of your uncertainty.

A sense of loss and yearning wraps around you, intensifying the void created by the absence of a farewell. The realization dawns that in the midst of budding connection, you failed to secure a bridge to traverse the distance that now separates you.

Each step on the journey home feels like a weighted march, the heaviness of unspoken goodbyes sinking into your bones.

Sorrow, like a relentless tide, floods your heart, consuming it with an ache that echoes through each footfall. Familiar pangs of longing claw at your chest, constricting breaths into fleeting gasps.

It's as if the very air you breathe carries the weight of an unfinished story, leaving you to navigate the foggy terrain of uncertainty, the poignant residue of an incomplete connection lingering in the spaces between each step.

A tempest of thoughts unleashes in your mind, a whirlwind of self-doubt and abandonment. The notion that he, too, might have slipped away like others before him wraps around your heart, squeezing it in an unforgiving grip. The ache is palpable, resonating through every fiber of your being. It's an anguish that cuts deep, a symphony of hurt orchestrated by the haunting possibility that echoes in the chambers of your wounded heart.

In the intricate tapestry of your time knowing him, he wasn't just a passing figure; he had etched himself into the mosaic of your life, becoming a fragment that held the essence of friendship.

You step into the sanctuary of your apartment, liberating your feet from the constraints of shoes, and collapse onto the couch, surrendering to its plush contours that cradle you in a cocoon of solace.

In the midst of trying to regain control of your racing breaths, a subtle vibration resonates from your pocket, drawing your attention like a lifeline. Retrieving your phone, you cast an intrigued glance at the illuminated screen, revealing an incoming call from Yuna.

With bated breath, you answer the call, the familiar cadence of Yuna's voice instantly arresting your senses.

An unexpected wave of emotions surges through you, freezing you in the moment as her words weave a narrative you weren't prepared for.

The weight of her words hangs heavy in the air, a heartbreaking tremor in her voice as she struggles to regain composure.

“Babe,” she utters, the tearful plea slicing through the silence like a dagger.

You can feel the gravity of the situation intensify as she reveals, “It's Nari,” the name echoing with a sense of foreboding that pierces through the air, leaving you breathless.

Dread hangs thick in the air as you muster the courage to ask, your voice trembling with fear and concern. “What about Nari?”

The words escape your lips, each syllable a hesitant step into the unknown, and as you sit up on your couch, a sense of urgency grips you, rendering you more alert than ever before.

The weight of Yuna's words crashes over you like an unrelenting wave, drowning your senses.

“She's gone,” Yuna sobs, her cries echoing in your ears.

A sudden chill grips your entire body, and the world around you blurs as your vision turns white.

Tears well up, threatening to spill over, and an indescribable ache settles in the core of your being. It feels as if the ground beneath you has shifted, leaving you suspended in a surreal and devastating moment.

Your voice quivers as you manage to break through the numbness, the question escaping your lips like a fragile whisper.

“How?” you repeat, the word catching in the tightness of your throat. Tears cascade down your cheeks, each drop carrying the weight of an ocean, a torrential release of the overwhelming emotions within you.

Your friend's voice wavers with sorrow as she delivers the painful revelation. “Apparently, she was sick and didn’t tell anybody…”

Each word, heavy with the burden of the unspoken, echoes in the emptiness of your apartment.

The truth, a bitter pill to swallow, lingers in the air, and you find it hard to comprehend the reality of the situation.

The walls of your sanctuary, once comforting, now press in on you, transforming your home into a claustrophobic cage of grief. The world outside seems to blur, and all that remains is the weight of disbelief settling on your shoulders.

The longing to share your grief with Yoongi intensifies, yet the barrier of not having his contact details becomes a painful obstacle. Your emotions, already tumultuous, now surge like a tempest within.

Frustration and sorrow intermingle, a chaotic dance that you try to contain.

As the weight of the news presses down on you, your nails unconsciously dig into your skin, seeking an outlet for the overwhelming emotions that threaten to consume you. The physical pain becomes a tangible manifestation of the emotional turmoil churning within.

The abruptness of Nari's illness and passing hits you like an unforeseen storm, leaving you grappling with disbelief.

Memories of her last moments flash vividly, and you question the cruel twist of fate that snatched away someone seemingly healthy. The sounds of inconsolable sobbing echo in your ears, and only then do you realize that the mournful cries tearing through the air belong to you.

“Are you alright?” Yuna asks you in sobs.

The weight of grief presses down on you, suffocating and relentless.

As the tears stream down your face, each one carries a piece of the pain that now resides within you.

“No,” you whisper, the word a feeble attempt to encapsulate the magnitude of your despair.

Your body curls inwards, seeking solace in the fetal position, as if you could fold away the anguish.

The phone lies beside you, a lifeline to Yuna's distant sobs, but it offers little comfort compared to the absent warmth of Kitten, whose presence could once bring solace to even the darkest moments.

The weight of Yuna's words hangs heavy in the air, a shroud of truth that you're forced to confront. “Babe, she had cancer and didn't want us to know… She wanted to live a happy life until the end,”

Yuna sobs again, and though her intent is to offer solace, the revelation feels like a cascade of heavy stones on your already burdened heart. The bitter sweetness of her desire for a joyful life juxtaposed with the pain of her silent struggle adds another layer to the grief, leaving you to grapple with the complexities of Nari's hidden battles.

“Yuna…,” you cry, the anguish in your voice echoing the profound pain that seems to squeeze the very life out of your heart.

“Why does everyone leave?”

The question hangs in the air, more rhetorical than expectant, as if you're not seeking an answer from Yuna but grappling with the cruel patterns of departure that life has woven into the fabric of your existence.

Each departure, like a thread pulled from the tapestry of your world, leaves an unraveled piece that never quite knits itself back together.

“I–, I don’t know,” she stammers through her tears, the weight of the unknown echoing in her voice, mirroring the uncertainty that now shrouds both of your lives.

“Promise we’ll be there for each other,” you declare, the weight of the words hanging in the air. It's a poignant plea, an acknowledgment of life's unpredictable twists. You understand that you can't ask for an eternity, but in this moment, you're determined to hold onto each other as tightly as time allows.

“Count on it,” she vows, her response flowing effortlessly, a testament to the unspoken bond between you two.

Despite the tightening in your throat, a glimmer of happiness sparks within you at the assurance she just gave.

Why must life be so fucking cruel, robbing you of everyone you hold dear?

An overwhelming urge to reconnect with your sister washes over you, a deep yearning fueled by the ache of prolonged silence between you.

“I want to call my sister,” you manage to say through your sobs, a desperate plea lacing your words. “Will you be alright, Yuna?” you ask, your concern breaking through the waves of grief that surround you both.

“Yeah. I mean, I'm fucking sad, but go ahead and call her. Can I come to your place tomorrow?” Yuna's voice carries a subtle plea, a shared understanding that neither of you wants to be alone in the midst of sorrow.

“Yeah, I'd love that,” you respond, your voice carrying the weight of grief and the faint glimmer of gratitude for the companionship that awaits tomorrow. As you attempt to dry your tears with a throw blanket on the couch, the room feels emptier than ever, and the ache in your heart persists.

“See you tomorrow,” she says before the call ends.

The hollowness in the room deepens, and you draw in a shaky breath, your gaze fixed on your phone. The background image captures a moment frozen in time, featuring you, Nari, and Yuna.

God, the ache of missing her intensifies, and you can't shake the heaviness in your chest.

You tighten your grip on the phone, each tear that escapes your eyes a silent testament to the pain in your heart. Determination wells up as you locate your sister's number, fingers tracing the familiar digits, ready to bridge the gap that time and distance have carved between you.

The rhythmic ringing echoes through the emptiness of your apartment, each tone a reminder of the solitude that now envelops you.

Anxiety gnaws at the edges of your thoughts as you anticipate the warmth of your sister's voice, a comfort you desperately need. Yet, the unanswered calls amplify the distance that separates you. With a heavy heart, you decide against leaving a message, the weight of unspoken words settling as you slump back onto the couch.

The sudden vibration of your phone startles you, and as you glance at the screen, the sight of your sister's name sparks a mixture of relief and anticipation. With a soft sniffle, you muster the strength to answer, “Hey, sis,” your voice laced with a blend of vulnerability and longing, reaching out across the digital expanse to bridge the emotional gap that separates you.

A chill courses through your body, rendering you motionless, as a deep, resonant voice resonates through the phone, catching you off guard.

“Hey,” his voice echoes through the phone, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your trembling hand clutches the device, and you find yourself holding your breath, caught in the sudden intensity of the moment.

“I'm Detective Kim,” he introduces himself, his voice echoing through the line. It carries a calm demeanor, yet beneath its surface, you detect a subtle undertone of sadness, adding a mysterious depth to his words.

This can't be good, you murmur to yourself, the words barely escaping your lips as a chill courses through your veins, turning your blood to ice once again.

“Are you Jiho's sister?” The detective's voice remains steady and calm, but beneath the surface, you sense an undercurrent of gravity and anticipation.

“Yes,” you reply, your voice catching in a sob as you struggle to contain your tears. The ominous feeling intensifies, and you can't shake the sinking realization that a detective is the one answering your sister's phone.

The air becomes heavy with uncertainty and fear.

“I'm deeply sorry to be the bearer of this news,” he begins with a sympathetic tone.

You inhale sharply, bracing yourself for the impact of the words that follow.

“Your sister has passed away.”

The world seems to shatter around you as the weight of his message settles in, leaving you breathless and heartbroken.

In that devastating moment, it feels as if the very foundation of your existence crumbles.

Your body and soul plummet through a void, each passing second an agonizing countdown to the inevitable impact that will shatter you into a million irreparable pieces.

The weight of grief bears down on you, and you're suspended in a free fall of despair.

You become acutely aware of your breath, or the lack thereof, as if the air itself has turned into a suffocating force, triggering a torrent of violent inhalations, each one a desperate attempt to grasp onto a reality that has just slipped through your fingers.

A heavy silence envelops the room as the detective imparts the devastating truth, each word landing with the weight of a sledgehammer on your fragile emotions. “She was killed,” he utters, the somber notes in his tone resonating like a funeral dirge, casting a pall over the already dim reality of your world.

A suffocating wave of panic crashes over you, rendering your extremities numb and your breath caught in the grip of invisible hands.

The room seems to close in as the detective's voice on the phone becomes a distant echo, his words lost in the disorienting whirlwind of your own mental tempest. It's a struggle to comprehend the standard condolences and procedures he details, as if reality itself is slipping through your trembling fingers.

Fucking hell. Is this hell?

In the wake of your parents' departure, you believed you had tasted the bitterest sorrow, yet today eclipses that agony without a shadow of a doubt.

You cast your phone aside on the couch, retreating to your bedroom, collapsing onto the bed. The anguish within erupts into violent sobs, an unrelenting torrent of tears flooding from your eyes, your entire frame convulsing with the weight of your grief.

You bury your face into the softness of the pillow, muffling the guttural scream that tears from your lungs.

The sound, a primal release of anguish, reverberates within the confines of your room. Screw the neighbors; right now, the universe needs to bear witness to the rawness of your pain.

What the fuck is up with this world? Everyone around you dies! Everyone leaves!

You can’t take it anymore.

As you surrender to the torrents of grief, you hope that tears might offer solace, a fleeting relief that could pave the way for much-needed sleep. Yet, despite your desperate attempts, the embrace of slumber eludes you, leaving you trapped in the clutches of your sorrow-soaked thoughts.

In an impulsive surge, you opt for a nocturnal stroll. Snatching your jacket, you step into the silent night, the residue of dried tears blending seamlessly with the ones that refuse to cease.

The moon above, a silent witness to the turmoil within, as your footsteps echo the rhythm of a heart weighed down by grief.

As you traverse the familiar streets of town, a magnetic pull guiding you to a cherished park, your sanctuary. Swiftly, you arrive and gingerly settle your weary frame onto a weathered bench, the cool night air offering a gentle caress to your battered soul.

As your gaze ascends to the enchanting tapestry of the night, a celestial dance of stars unfolds above. Tonight, the cosmic expanse seems to cradle the spirits of your sister and Nari, their luminous presence illuminating the vast darkness, a celestial reunion among the constellations.

As your tears persist, you fix your eyes upon the star-lit canvas above. Each gleaming star appears like a radiant jewel, casting an ethereal glow across the night. The beauty is undeniable, yet a poignant sadness lingers in your heart.

Compelled by an unspoken yearning, you embark on the solemn task of counting the stars, each one a celestial tribute to the cherished souls who now adorn the heavens.

The question echoes in your mind: Why?

Why do they blaze with such brilliance, akin to a dying star igniting in a final, magnificent burst before consuming everything in its cosmic embrace?

Your heart pounds violently against your ribcage, each beat echoing through your chest, and the air feels elusive, slipping away as if you're caught in a suffocating grip.

Life reveals its cruel nature, leaving you to grapple with the relentless question: Why does everyone leave? Why does the world around you crumble, stealing away those you hold dear?

An emptiness envelopes you, a void so profound it swallows every ounce of light. Darkness creeps in, and an irresistible urge emerges, coaxing you to surrender to its consuming embrace.

Perhaps it's time to release your grip on reality and join the celestial dance of those who have departed before you?

As the tears flow, perhaps this haunting void within will dissipate, bringing an end to the relentless ache that permeates every fiber of your being.

As the weight of loneliness bears down on you, an insidious desire to surrender, to slip into an eternal slumber, creeps through your shattered heart. The yearning for an endless sleep, where the fractured pieces of your soul find solace, consumes you. It's as if the very essence of your being is crumbling into irreparable fragments.

The fragments of your soul lie scattered, and the daunting question echoes in the hollow chambers of your despair—can you summon the strength to mend them once more, to piece together the shattered remnants of your being?

In the depths of your despair, a resolute realization surfaces — a quiet but unwavering knowing that, despite the relentless cruelty, you're not ready to surrender to the void. Life, as brutal as it may be, still holds threads of resilience within its intricate tapestry, and you find an ember of strength glowing amidst the shadows.

You divert your gaze downward, focusing on your hands nestled in your lap, choosing the tangible reality of your own existence over the distant allure of the star-studded night.

You harbor too many aspirations to surrender to despair. Your desires paint a vivid canvas of dreams: to find solace in the embrace of a kind-hearted partner, secure a fulfilling career, and relish the simple joys that life offers. Nari's silent battle with illness inspires you to embrace life with the same gusto, celebrating its moments without the need for validation.

In the midst of your fragmented existence, amidst the shattering pain, you crave it all. Yearning for the entirety of life's tapestry, even when it feels like it's unraveling.

Despite life's cruelty, there's an undeniable allure in its intricate beauty, compelling you to seek solace and embrace the stunning contradictions that define your life.

Amidst the tear-stained path, your resolve solidifies.

The decision made, you tread back to your apartment, the silent witness to your inner turmoil. Each step echoes with the weight of your emotions, a symphony of sorrow playing in the background.

The sanctuary of your home beckons, promising the respite that only sleep, albeit restless, can bring. Sleep, like a long-lost friend, embraces you swiftly this time. Grateful for the solace it brings, you sink into its comforting arms, the reprieve from the turmoil of the day unfolding like a gentle lullaby.

The chime of the doorbell resonates through your apartment, and you're roused from the depths of sleep. Yuna, true to her word, stands on the other side, a beacon of support in your time of need.

Embraced in a tight hug, tears stream down both your faces, the shared weight of grief transforming the silent embrace into a powerful testament of mutual understanding and shared sorrow.

Seated on the couch, you engage in a heartfelt conversation about the unpredictable journey of life—its highs and lows.

As a comforting silence settles between you, you reach for the remote and, with a flicker of distraction, decide on a mindless show. Wrapped in the embrace of shared grief, you find solace in the soft glow of the television, its images casting a gentle veil over your weary souls.

That night, Yuna stays over, a comforting presence that feels like a blessing in the midst of your overwhelming grief.

In the vulnerable hours of the night, you pour your heart out to Yuna.

Tears flow freely as you share the ache of losing your sister, the void left by Kitten's absence, and the fear that Yoongi might be gone forever. In the solace of shared sorrow, you find a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows.

In the tender embrace of Yuna, you find solace. Her comforting presence is a lifeline in the storm of grief, holding you close as tears cascade. Though she's often your pillar of strength, tonight you yearn to reciprocate, to be the support she's always been for you. It's a quiet understanding, an unspoken pact between friends navigating the unpredictable currents of life.

In the quiet depths of the night, as you share your pain with Yuna, a flicker of determination ignites within you. You yearn not just for solace but to become the architect of your own joy. The realization dawns that your happiness lies in the unwritten chapters of your own journey, waiting to be explored and embraced. It's a moment of self-discovery, a commitment to forge your path to happiness, independent and resilient.

With the dawn of a new day, you decide to embark on a journey of self-discovery.

Despite the weight of sorrow lingering in your chest, you resolve to savor life in all its transient splendor—embracing its beauty, acknowledging its ugliness, and reveling in every nuanced shade in between.

Each moment becomes a canvas, and you are determined to paint it with the vibrant strokes of resilience and newfound appreciation.

With unwavering determination, you approached your boss at the café, advocating for a shift in your work hours. The goal? To rekindle the pursuit of knowledge, to step back into the world of academia and reignite the spark of astrophysics that had once fueled your passion.

As the prospect of returning to school looms on the horizon, you recognize that the journey ahead is both a challenge and an opportunity—a chance to sculpt a future that you can genuinely be proud of, with each completed course marking a triumph over self-doubt and a step closer to the constellations of your dreams.

In the wake of that poignant night where two cherished souls departed, a few months have quietly slipped away.

In a tender gesture of support, Yuna encourages you to embrace the prospect of love once more. Unlike before, hesitation has no place in your heart this time.

With newfound courage, you step into the realm of dating, a journey tinged with both vulnerability and hope, as you navigate through the tapestry of emotions woven by the threads of the past and the promises of the future.

Life, a relentless journey, doesn't yield to simplicity, yet within its intricate folds, a subtle transformation occurs. It doesn't unravel swiftly, but with each passing day, it stitches together a mosaic of improvement, a gradual emergence from the shadows into the dappled light of a better tomorrow.

With each sunrise, a symphony of healing orchestrates within you, crescendoing into a melody that resonates louder, and you find solace in the fact that every dawn gifts you a version of yourself stronger and more resilient than the preceding day.

As winter unfurls its icy embrace, you find solace in the familiar touch of your cherished wool coat, the cozy sanctuary of fluffy sweaters enveloping you like a hug from a dear friend, and the softness of warm socks cradling your every step.

With a steaming cup of tea in hand, you dive into your studies, the brisk air outside contrasting with the warmth that courses through your veins.

Embarking on the journey to reclaim an unfinished chapter of your life, returning to the hallowed halls of academia, you revel in the triumphant echoes of resilience as you strive to complete the narrative you once set in motion.

As you tread homeward, the city draped in the melancholy hues of twilight, a fleeting silhouette dashes through the alleys, a phantom of darkness.

For the briefest moment, memories of Kitten's playful escapades dance in your mind, a bittersweet symphony of nostalgia.

A sigh, heavy with the weight of longing, escapes your lips, yet you trudge forward, navigating the shadows toward the warmth of your home.

In the intimate glow of your kitchen, you conjure a culinary masterpiece, a symphony of flavors orchestrated only for yourself. The sizzle of ingredients harmonizes with the rhythmic beat of your heart, a ritual of self-love that has become your refuge.

Many a time, you've crafted these delectable creations, some shared in the company of fleeting dates whose presence, like autumn leaves, brushed briefly against the canvas of your life, but leaving no lasting imprint on your heart.

Midway through the mundane task of stowing away dishes, a subtle and mysterious hum reverberates through your abode, originating from the vicinity of your door.

The air is suddenly filled with a familiar, distant melody—a soft and rhythmic meowing that sends a jolt of excitement through you.

Abandoning your chores, you rush to the door, fingers fumbling with the lock, and there, in all his glory, stands Kitten!

In a flurry of warmth and relief, you scoop up the cold, shivering Kitten into your embrace, quickly closing the door behind him. His meows echo gratitude, and a tender lick against your cheek seals the unspoken bond that time and distance failed to break.

In a million moments, you never fathomed seeing him again. Now, as he rests in your arms, elation courses through you like a celestial symphony, leaving you over the moon with sheer happiness.

His return is a testament to a bond beyond time, a friendship that defies the measure of days. It's not about the duration of his absence; it's about the joyous truth that he returned to you, stitching the fragments of your heart back together.

You rush to your cabinet, your heart pounding with both relief and excitement. Grabbing a can of cat food, you swiftly prepare a feast for Kitten, watching as he eagerly devours the meal, his hunger echoing the void his absence left in your life.

As you stroke Kitten's fur, you can't help but ponder on the mysteries that shroud his disappearance. His body, while not emaciated, carries the silent tales of his adventures.

You yearn to unravel the chapters of his feline escapades, wishing you could converse with him, share the unspoken hardships, and assure him that he's found a forever home in the warmth of your embrace.

In a breathless whisper, you confess, “I've missed you so much,” the weight of your longing carried in the tenderness of your voice.

A solitary tear, a testament to the emotions flooding your heart, escapes and dances down your cheek, mirroring the joy of a reunion long yearned for.

As the echoes of your affectionate words linger in the air, Kitten responds with a gentle purr, a harmonious melody that intertwines seamlessly with the sound of him relishing the meal.

Amidst the soft cadence of Kitten's purring, you find solace in the familiar presence of your feline companion. With a sigh, you decide to share the intricacies of the tumultuous journey you've undertaken since his absence. “So much has unfolded, Kitten,” you whisper, your voice a gentle reassurance, “a lot of shit, but also a lot of good.”

As Kitten finishes his meal, he responds with a symphony of content purrs, gracefully padding over to where you crouch. With a playful nudge against your legs, he seems to convey a silent acknowledgment, a shared moment of warmth and connection between old friends.

In the span of a few days, the void that Kitten's absence left has been filled with the comforting rhythm of his presence. You've poured out your heart to him, recounting the events and emotions that unfolded during his time away, as if catching him up on the chapters of your life.

Kitten, with his attentive eyes and soothing purrs, seems to understand more than most, providing a silent anchor in the storm of your experiences.

As you sink into the soft embrace of your couch, a contented smile plays on your lips. With Kitten nestled beside you, you share a profound realization that has taken root in your heart: ‘I live, so I love.’ The words hang in the air, a testament to the resilience you've found in the face of life's unpredictable twists. The TV hums with background noise, but in that moment, the simple joy of companionship fills the room.

In the quiet solitude of your apartment, you confide in Kitten, the loyal companion who has witnessed both your joys and sorrows. “I don't think he's coming back,” you murmur, a tinge of sadness lingering in your voice. As if attuned to your emotions, Kitten responds with a gentle meow, a feline reassurance that transcends words.

In the rhythmic cadence of your words, a sense of vulnerability emerges. “I know, I know. I don't need a man in my life. I get that,” you confess, your voice carrying the weight of self-awareness.

The clinking of utensils against pots and pans provides a subtle percussion to your thoughts as you continue, “But Yoongi was special, you know? Like he just got me... and I just wish for him to be happy doing whatever he's doing.” The aroma of dinner fills the air, mingling with the unspoken sentiments swirling in the room.

As you delicately feed Kitten some steamed broccoli, the notion of reuniting with Yoongi lingers in the air. “If he comes back, you should meet him – I'll introduce you!” The words spill from your lips, carrying a hopeful melody.

As you reminisce about Yoongi, a fond smile plays on your lips. “He's such a wonderful person. And handsome? Oh, his hands,” you begin, tracing the air with your fingers as if you can feel the texture of his presence. Memories flood back, each detail etched in your mind like a cherished photograph. “Long fingers, veiny hands,” you murmur, the words infused with a hint of admiration that even surprises you. The love for this man reverberates in your voice, a quiet confession to the depths of your feelings.

Kitten's melodic meow serenades the room as he gracefully weaves between your feet, his tail coiling affectionately around your calves like a comforting embrace.

“If you meet him, please don’t claw his back out like you did with that other guy. Yoongi is nice.”

With a heavy heart, you confide in Kitten, the weight of your worry evident in the rhythmic tapping of the spatula against the sizzling vegetables. “It's been nearly half a year, and I can't shake the feeling that something might have happened to him,” you murmur, the crackling sounds of the kitchen offering a somber backdrop to your uncertainty.

As the warmth of the meal envelops you and Kitten, you sit together, a silent companionship settling over the room. The simplicity of this moment strikes you, and a quiet realization unfolds – you love your life just as it is.

In the shared silence, you feel a sense of wholeness, a testimony to the goodness found in life's simplicity. Though your heart may still ache at times, you've come to accept that, too, as a part of the beautiful complexity that makes life what it is.

You're keenly aware that time is the remedy for healing, a gentle but persistent force that gradually eases the ache until one day, the pain will be a distant echo of what it once was.

Your weary limbs protest against the demands of a full-time class schedule and cafe shifts, revealing the hidden challenges of your daily grind. Fatigue clings to you like a shadow, and an involuntary yawn escapes.

With a wearied sigh, you address Kitten, your loyal companion in fatigue. “Ah, Kitten, today's been a battle. I'm going to bed early today,” you murmur, dragging your exhausted body to the bathroom in a nightly ritual.

Upon returning to your sanctuary, you find Kitten, already nestled in his customary spot, a comforting presence in the silent embrace of the night.

Sinking beneath the cozy duvet, you surrender to its tender embrace, the fabric cocooning you in a haven of softness. With a gentle pat, you acknowledge Kitten, “Thank you for being here,” you murmur before succumbing to the enchantment of dreamland.

As consciousness tiptoes back into your awareness, the remnants of dreams linger like elusive whispers in your mind. Gently awakening, you open your eyes to find the absence of Kitten.

Your eyes widen in astonishment, and your body tenses as you absorb the scene unfolding before you—a man, peacefully lost in the realm of dreams.

Your gaze follows the cascade of long, slightly curly, obsidian hair that drapes over his shoulders, tracing the contours of his creamy white skin. The play of morning light reveals a well-defined back, drawing your eyes down the elegant curve of his spine until they come to rest on a small, soft, plum-like ass. The realization hits you like a bolt— he's completely naked!

Why is your heart orchestrating a rapid symphony, each beat echoing in your ears like a thunderous drumroll? And what in the world is a naked stranger doing sprawled across your sheets as though he belongs there?

He slumbers in serene oblivion, emitting soft, melodic sighs that weave through the air, his chest gracefully ascending and descending in rhythmic dance with each tranquil breath.

Wait.

He seems familiar.

A gasp escapes your lips as you take a closer look, and the realization hits you like a bolt of lightning – it's Yoongi!

Shock and disbelief intertwine in your chest as you stare at his peaceful slumber.

Confusion and a hint of panic surge through you as your mind races with questions.

Why is Yoongi in your bed, and why on earth is he naked?

How did Yoongi end up here, and where is Kitten?

A myriad of questions spins through your mind, a turbulent storm of curiosity. As you ponder the mysteries, you belatedly notice Yoongi stirring, gracefully shifting to lie on his back.

Your face burns with embarrassment as the realization dawns that he's still completely naked. Heat rises to your cheeks when his half-erect dick brushes against his stomach, prompting you to instinctively shield your eyes, flustered by the unexpected sight.

You wrestle with the dilemma of whether to disturb his serene slumber or let him continue resting peacefully. The soft innocence in his sleeping form makes the decision more challenging, and you lean towards allowing him to bask in the tranquility of his dreams undisturbed.

Gently, you drape the comforting warmth of your duvet over him, a shield against the chill of the room. With nimble movements, you extract yourself from the bed, careful not to disturb the delicate balance of his slumber.

Confusion seizes your thoughts as you grapple with the surreal scenario—Yoongi peacefully nestled in your bed. You wrack your brain, questioning every sober memory, desperately trying to unearth the missing pieces that would explain his presence.

You step into the kitchen, a fleeting sense of unease prickling at your skin as you scan the room for Kitten, but he remains elusive, leaving a trace of uncertainty in the air.

A twinge of melancholy washes over you as Kitten remains elusive, but you console yourself with the hope that he might return, his absence merely a temporary void in your otherwise comforting routine.

You embark on the simple yet intimate act of preparing two steaming cups of coffee—one for yourself and one for the unexpected visitor who occupies your bed.

You seize a handful of aromatic coffee beans from a vintage jar, letting the rich fragrance envelop you as you crush them under the steady hum of your machine. With precision, you measure out the perfect amount, combining it with hot water, allowing the concoction to brew into a comforting elixir.

While the coffee brews, your mind races with bewildering thoughts about Yoongi's unexpected presence in your bed. Puzzlement clouds your senses as you contemplate every conceivable scenario.

Did he let himself in? Was there some mysterious way he could have gained access?

With a touch of anxiety, you even venture to your front door, checking for any signs of unauthorized entry, only to find it securely locked, shrouded in an eerie silence.

You're grappling with the perplexing mystery of Yoongi's appearance in your bed, as if he materialized out of thin air, defying all logic and reason, leaving you spellbound by the inexplicable magic that seems to have woven its way into your ordinary reality.

In the quiet chaos of your thoughts, Yoongi's presence offers more questions than answers, an enigmatic puzzle that seems to defy the ordinary. The absence of Kitten only adds another layer of mystery to the unfolding scene.

As the coffee machine dings, disrupting the contemplative silence, you're left grappling with the surreal conundrum before you, seeking clarity in the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

With the warmth of freshly brewed coffee in your hands, you reenter the bedroom to discover Yoongi, now alert, draped in your duvet, a captivating silhouette in the soft morning light.

Your greeting falters as you nervously stammer, “H–, Hi,” setting the two mugs of coffee on your nightstand. Yoongi's gaze, sharp and feline-like, traces your every move, creating a palpable tension in the air.

An unfamiliar nervousness grips you in his presence, an unusual sensation considering your usual ease around him. Perhaps it's the fact that he's naked, his gaze akin to a predator eyeing down its prey, intensifying the air with an unspoken tension.

“Hey,” finally breaking the silence, he greets you with a low grumble, scratching his head and letting out a lazy yawn.

His body exudes a captivating blend of softness and defined muscles, a captivating sight that—

His voice, laced with a teasing smirk, breaks the tension. “Can't stop staring at my dick, huh?”

Your throat tightens as you realize you've been caught in the act, silently observing him. Panic sets in – does he think you're a freak now? Fantastic.

You let out a nervous chuckle, deliberately shifting your gaze away from the obvious bulge in the duvet around his lap. “What are you doing here, Yoongi? And why are you naked?” you inquire, genuinely puzzled.

He chuckles, a low sound that sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but feel a tinge of unease. “You haven't figured it out yet?” he teases, his words hanging in the air, leaving you in suspense.

You must resemble a walking question mark, because his chuckles only intensify. It's as if he finds your confusion amusing, and you're left standing there, desperate for answers in the midst of his enigmatic laughter.

In a soft tone laced with a smirk, he utters, “Kitten.”

Your gaze fixates on him, bewildered. Kitten? Is he referring to your cat?

Your jaw drops as he gracefully emerges from the bed, the duvet cascading off his frame. In his unabashed nudity, he strides toward you.

He inches closer, the proximity almost causing your lips to collide. A surge of warmth courses through you when he delicately tucks a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I’m a shapeshifter,” his revelation hangs in the air, the weight of it palpable, and as he locks eyes with you, searching for any flicker of discomfort, the truth settles. Before you can process it fully, he leans in, capturing your lips with an irresistible surge of passion.

His lips, soft and inviting, embark on a slow yet passionate dance, as if reuniting with a long-lost lover. Responding eagerly, you part your lips, allowing the kiss to deepen, and in that electrifying moment, your entire body succumbs to a sensation akin to melting butter.

You yield to his touch, molding your body to his as you sense the undeniable hardness of his arousal intimately pressing against your core.

Fuck.

In the midst of the heated moment, you draw back slightly to meet his gaze, the question hanging in the air, “So... you're Kitten?”

He offers no verbal response, just a low, affirmative hum, before plunging back into another intoxicating kiss.

You surrender to the sensation, feeling the firm grip of his hands on your waist as they journey upward beneath the fabric of your well-worn shirt.

His touch ignites a trail of sensations, tracing a path across your body, sending electric shivers as he lifts your shirt, gently grazing against the contours of your breasts.

Under the intensity of his gaze, your body responds, a flush of heat spreading through you, your nipples hardening in response. He emits a low, satisfied hum, as if relishing the effect he has on you.

Effortlessly, he works to level the playing field, swiftly undressing you as if in a race against time. With a purposeful tug, he eases your shorts down, a silent declaration of his desire.

Bare before him, clad only in a simple black panty adorned with delicate pink hearts, you can't shake the vulnerability coursing through you. A sudden urge to conceal yourself washes over, a reaction to the raw exposure in this intimate moment.

“Don't shy away, you're stunning,” Yoongi murmurs, his firm grip on your hips drawing you closer to his naked body. The undeniable heat of his arousal presses against your core, a tangible reminder of the desire smoldering between you.

Gratitude escapes your lips in a hushed tone, your cheeks tinged with a warm blush.

“Now, let’s get these off you, yeah?” with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he hooks his fingers inside the fabric of your panties, teasingly tugging them down. He pauses, seeking your consent, before sensually sliding them all the way down your legs.

As he slides your panties down, a sudden awareness of your arousal hits you, intensified by the cool rush of air against your heated core.

As they fall to the floor, Yoongi swiftly snatches up your panties, bringing them to his face to inhale the intoxicating essence of your arousal, his eyes darkening with desire.

Why does that look so utterly sinful, setting off a delicious rush of arousal coursing through your veins, leaving you breathless in its wake?

As the intoxicating scent of you envelops him, he murmurs, “Damn, you smell good,” his eyes dilating with an unmistakable hunger.

“I wonder if you taste as good as you smell.”

In the raw vulnerability of your shared nakedness, he guides your body back to the bed, gently laying you down, his presence a magnetic force, hovering above you.

He immerses himself in the expanse of your neck, a symphony of sensations unfolding – a delicate ballet of tender kisses, followed by the electrifying nip of his teeth grazing the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

You moan in unabashed pleasure, your hands instinctively seeking refuge on his chiseled pectorals, anchoring yourself amidst the rising waves of bliss.

Yoongi's gaze shifts to the mirror positioned strategically in front of your bed. “I've been meaning to ask,” he smirks, locking eyes with you, “why do you have a mirror in front of your bed?”

You squirm beneath him, breath catching.”'It's part of my wardrobe panels,” you admit, your voice a fragile melody.

He chuckles, a low and enticing sound, his smirk dancing on his lips. “I don't think that's why the whole panel is mirrors,” he says, sitting up slightly. His finger traces a slow, teasing path from your collarbones to your breasts, sending shivers of anticipation racing through your body.

He leans in, his breath sending a shiver down your spine, and in a deep, low voice, he murmurs into your ear, “You're a dirty one, aren't you?”

His degrading words make your breath hitch instantly, and you involuntarily clench your thighs together. As you shake your head in disagreement, he just smirks, unconvinced.

His chuckle resonates in the room as he asks, “Do you enjoy watching yourself in the mirrors?” Sitting up, he moves to the foot of the bed, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark.

He gracefully steps out of the bed, casting a predatory gaze as he hovers over you, an aura of irresistible allure surrounding him.

With unwavering determination, he declares, “You're going to watch yourself in the mirror as I fuck your pussy with my tongue.” In a single, fluid motion, he seizes both of your thighs, pulling you to the foot of the bed, sending a thrilling jolt through your senses.

Despite the heat coursing through your entire being, a light chuckle escapes your lips. However, the mirth dissipates as you lock eyes with the intensity in Yoongi's dark gaze.

“Sit up,” his command echoes through the room, and as he gracefully lowers himself between your legs, a thrilling anticipation courses through the air.

From your elevated position, you admire the tousled chaos of his hair, a disheveled masterpiece that only enhances his captivating allure. His eyes gleam with a mischievous spark, a silent promise of the intensity that is about to unfold.

You seize his cheeks with urgency, your voice dripping with desire, a fervent plea escaping your lips, “Fuck. Yoongi, please eat me out.”

He moistens his lips with a teasing chuckle, descending eagerly towards your already soaked center.

He expertly widens the gap between your legs, creating a perfect haven for himself before delving into your pussy with fervent devotion.

With a tantalizing finesse, he starts with a subtle stroke of his tongue along your folds, gradually ascending to the apex of your clit, eliciting a fervent moan that echoes in the room.

As waves of pleasure cascade through you, your fingers instinctively entwine in his tousled locks, gently pulling as he skillfully devotes his attention to the exquisite dance of his tongue and lips on your pulsating core.

Gasping for breath, your anticipation mounts, every nerve tingling with pleasure, as Yoongi's rhythmic strokes across your intimate folds propel you toward a climax, your toes curling in ecstasy.

Pausing momentarily, he murmurs in appreciation, “You taste even better than you smell, Kitten,” his words sending a shiver down your spine.

You're on the verge of asking him about the nickname ‘Kitten,’ but his tongue explores your folds, leaving you breathless and unable to form words.

Your question dissolves in the heat of the moment, the building climax taking center stage as you lose yourself in the pursuit of pleasure.

Lost in the waves of ecstasy, you can't resist the urge to surrender, closing your eyes as Yoongi works his magic with undeniable expertise.

“No, no, no. Look at yourself in the mirror, Kitten.”

“Why do—” before you can finish your question, it fades away on your tongue as Yoongi plunges back into pleasuring your core with a renewed intensity, leaving your thoughts swallowed by the whirlwind of sensations.

As you glance at the mirror, you catch a glimpse of your own blissful expression, framed by Yoongi's tousled black hair nestled between your thighs. The sight is nothing short of breathtaking, a sight of pleasure that leaves you utterly captivated.

The provocative scene unfolding in the mirror intensifies your arousal, your breath hitching in tandem with the escalating desire pulsating through your veins.

“Yoongi, I’m—” your plea catches in your throat as Yoongi skillfully responds, his hand finding your pulsating clit, heightening the pleasure while he continues to ravish you with his insatiable tongue.

His fingers dance in rhythmic circles over your throbbing clit, coaxing the tension from your core. As the knot unravels, a wave of blissful release washes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake.

Ecstasy courses through your veins, your toes curling, muscles tightening, and in that moment, an unexpected surge of pleasure hits you like a sneeze that never comes. You release a symphony of moans, surrendering to the intense climax that Yoongi skillfully orchestrates with his talented tongue.

He continues to suck, savoring every drop of your essence, an insatiable thirst in his eyes matching the fervor of the intimate dance between your bodies.

As the intensity peaks, you gently tap his shoulder, signaling him to withdraw. He complies with a sensual slurp, leaving you breathless and tingling with the echoes of pleasure.

A mischievous grin stretches across his face as he licks his lips, “You're incredible, Kitten.”

You arch an eyebrow, curiosity coloring your tone, “Why do you keep calling me ‘Kitten’? You’re Kitten.”

He erupts in laughter, a symphony that resonates through the room, his chest rising and falling with the melody of mirth, and in that moment, he's a captivating masterpiece.

“Do I really look like a Kitten to you?” he inquires, a playful glint in his eyes as he gently nudges you back onto the bed.

Your words stumble as you search for a response, “Not really,” you admit, offering him a small yet tender smile.

“But you look cute and sweet, like a good Kitten,” he murmurs, his hands exploring the curves of your breasts.

A low moan escapes your lips as he teases your nipples with a playful twist, igniting a fresh surge of desire that pools in the growing heat between your thighs.

As you ache for the feel of his throbbing length, you attempt to grab hold of him, but like a fleeting mirage, he skillfully eludes your touch, leaving you yearning for the intimate connection that inches away with each evasive movement.

“Nah. I just want to fuck you silly,” he rasps, eyes tracing every bead of sweat on your flushed skin, reveling in the primal rhythm of your hurried breaths.

“If you want to, that is?” he teases, his voice a sultry whisper, as he takes control, guiding himself between your legs with a confident hand that promises a morning full of pleasure.

As you feel the weight of his gaze, you gulp, wondering how, in that heated moment, he could question what you crave. It's undeniable – you want him, and the intensity of your desire hangs in the air between you, palpable and unspoken.

Your breath catches as you respond, the words tumbling from your lips in a heated rush, “Fuck, yes, Yoongi. I want you inside me, now,” the urgency in your voice betraying the intensity of your desire.

A low, rumbling chuckle escapes him, the sound sending a shiver down your spine as he replies, “Please” with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“‘Please’ what?”

“Say ‘please’.”

You huff, incredulous at his audacity. The desire in his eyes is undeniable, and he seems to enjoy the game. Part of you rebels, tempted to be a brat just to irk him, but the need for his touch overrides any resistance. You crave his intimacy, aching for his dick despite the defiance lingering in the air.

“Fuck this,” you grumble, frustration evident in your voice. In that fleeting moment, you catch a glimpse of Yoongi pulling back, as if reconsidering his stance.

“Please! Don’t leave,” you plead desperately, your sincerity laid bare. The smirk on his face deepens, as if savoring the intensity of your plea.

“Please fuck me, Yoongi.”

His satisfaction evident, he rewards you with a swift kiss before aligning himself with your eager entrance, anticipation humming in the air.

Your arousal has reached a point where there's no discomfort, just a perfect fit as he slides into you, your wetness welcoming and enveloping him seamlessly.

He hisses as he eases into your warm, tight walls, and you can feel him doing his best to restrain himself.

You release a breathy huff as he fully penetrates, his balls gently meeting the warmth of your folds.

He lets out a guttural groan as he steadies himself, withdrawing only to plunge back in with an intensity that sends shivers through your body.

In this intimate position, with him above you, every nuance of his pleasure is on full display—the way his nose scrunches in delight, his soft lips occasionally nibbling the bottom one in sheer ecstasy.

Between each thrust, he can't help but express his amazement, his voice low and husky, “Damn. You're so tight.”

You know. It’s been awhile.

As he moves within you with an increased rhythm, his hands find your breasts, skillfully massaging them in sync with his fervent thrusts, creating a symphony of pleasure that courses through your entire body.

Ecstasy courses through you, and in the midst of your fervent pleasure, you can't help but release a breathless exclamation, “Fuck, Yoongi!”

Every skillful thrust seems to find its mark, synchronized with the enticing dance of his fingers on your hardened nipples. Pleasure envelops you, clouding your thoughts in a haze of ecstasy.

Your pleasure intensifies as Yoongi skillfully pinches your nipples, eliciting a symphony of moans that harmonize with the rhythmic dance of his passionate thrusts.

Sensations ripple through you, and the desire to reciprocate Yoongi's pleasure builds within you. You yearn to give him the same ecstasy he's generously bestowed upon you.

Amidst the rhythmic cadence of Yoongi's thrusts, a bold request escapes your lips. Your gaze, laced with desire, meets his, and with a subtle plea in your eyes, you softly murmur, “Yoongi—, I want to ride you. Please.”

With a devilish grin, Yoongi withdraws from your embrace, reclining on the bed, his eyes ablaze with anticipation.

His voice, laced with desire, sends shivers down your spine as he commands, “Then you're gonna watch in the mirrors as you fuck yourself on my dick,” reclining with his head angled towards the mirrors.

Mounting him, you position yourself strategically, both of you reflected in the mirror—a tantalizing image of entangled limbs, the intensity of the moment etched in your heaving, sweat-glistened bodies.

Grasping his throbbing dick, he hisses in anticipation as you deftly align your eager entrance with his cock.

With a fluid motion, you descend onto his rigid cock, your velvet walls enveloping him in a tight, intoxicating embrace.

From below, Yoongi savors the view, his gaze lingering on the contours of your face, as if committing every detail to memory.

You guide the rhythm, your hands finding stability on his sculpted chest, setting the pace as you ride him with a mix of determination and desire.

Your movements cascade, a slow dance that gradually builds momentum, each rise and fall carrying a symphony of pleasure and anticipation.

As you gaze upon your reflection, the flush of arousal paints your cheeks, your disheveled hair framing your face like an unruly halo, and your breasts dance in perfect harmony with the rhythm of your passionate movements.

The person in the mirror seems like a stranger, a sensual revelation you never knew existed within you. The mirrors, always present but never before utilized for sex, now reflect a version of yourself that’s both thrilling and new.

Heat courses through your veins, an intoxicating blend of arousal and empowerment, as you observe your own uninhibited reflection. With newfound vigor, you escalate the rhythm, riding Yoongi more vigorously. His appreciative groans and tender gaze mirror the intensity of the moment.

Unbridled desire takes over as your hands instinctively find their way to Yoongi's neck. Without a conscious thought, your fingers glide over the warmth of his skin, gently encircling his throat.

An electrifying jolt courses through you as you sense Yoongi's involuntary twitch within you, and you catch the ragged rhythm of his breath.

Panic courses through you, and you hastily retract your hands, realizing with a shock that you had unintentionally exerted pressure on Yoongi's throat. “Oh my God! I'm so sorry!” you blurt out, your apology a mix of concern and embarrassment.

“It's fine, Kitten. I like it,” he reassures you with a devilish grin, seizing your hands and guiding them back around his neck, his eyes sparking with a hint of mischief.

You shoot him a concerned glance, pausing your movements to ensure he's okay. Once he reassures you with a nod, signaling his approval, you dive back into the rhythm you had before.

With a newfound boldness, you tighten your grip around his throat, drawing out another satisfying twitch from him. His reaction sends a surge of pleasure through you as he hits that sweet spot, causing a kaleidoscope of sensations that make you see stars.

Your unrestrained moans fill the room, a symphony of desire that intertwines with the rhythmic sounds of your bodies colliding. The sight of Yoongi unraveling beneath your touch fuels a primal arousal, and you revel in the raw passion that courses through every fiber of your being.

“Fuck!” you pant.

“I’m gonna come,” you confess, the words escaping on a ragged breath, as you impale yourself on his dick. You’re body trembling as you hold the moment, savoring the anticipation before the inevitable plunge into ecstasy.

With a tender touch, you withdraw your hands from his throat, leaning down to kiss him. Your lips meet his in a dance of passion, tracing a path from his mouth to the very spots your fingers had claimed on his neck moments ago.

His low, guttural groan harmonizes with the rhythm as you ascend, reclaiming your perch on him. The dance begins anew, your body moving with purpose, riding the waves of pleasure set in motion by each calculated bounce on his throbbing length.

Yoongi's hands eagerly envelop your breasts, his fingers dancing with the rhythm of your fervent movements. With each descent onto him, you feel a surge of pleasure building, the shared pursuit of ecstasy driving you both towards the brink of blissful release.

His fingers deftly find your sensitive nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. The sensation is so intense that a fractured, high-pitched man escapes your lips, your back arching involuntarily in the exquisite dance of pleasure and pain.

As your walls instinctively clench around his pulsating dick, you witness the pleasure etched across his face, a delightful scrunching of his features that mirrors the ecstasy coursing through both of you.

“Yoongi, I’m com—,” you gasp, a desperate plea laced in your voice. Your words are unnecessary; the vice-like grip of your walls and the erratic cadence of your breath already convey the impending release that hangs thick in the air.

“Come all over my dick,” he smirks through a groan, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Watch yourself fall apart in the mirror.”

How can this man ignite such an intense flame within you? The knot in your stomach tightens once more, and as you surrender to it, a primal, drawn-out moan escapes your lips, echoing the depths of your desire.

With unyielding eyes, you lock onto your own reflection in the mirror as ecstasy courses through you, marking the moment you climax on his d*ck. Your rhythmic bouncing falters, but Yoongi, sensing your need, seizes your hips and propels the pace, driving you deeper into the intoxicating whirlwind of pleasure.

Your mouth hangs open, breaths rapid and erratic, akin to the aftermath of a sprint, while every inch of your body throbs with the residual heat of a fervent blaze.

“So beautiful—FUCK!” he moans, powering into you with an astonishing velocity, sending shivers down your spine.

His hold on your hips tightens, your hands finding refuge on his sculpted chest for support. Your body teeters on the edge of weightlessness and grounding, as if you'd unravel if Yoongi's firm grasp on your hips faltered.

Despite the fatigue washing over you, a surge of determination courses through your veins. Summoning the last reserves of your strength, you entwine your fingers around his neck once more. You sense the impending release in Yoongi's every movement, and you're determined to be the catalyst that propels him over the edge.

The moment your grip tightens around his throat, a powerful surge reverberates through his dick within you, sending intoxicating waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It's an electrifying sensation, making every touch between you more intense and satisfying.

With an intense squeeze, you lock eyes with Yoongi, a plea in your gaze. “Fill me up, Yoongi.”

In a primal release, he surrenders to the moment, thrusting into you with an erratic rhythm, coating your walls with the warmth of his climax.

“Ahh,” he pants, the rush of air filling his lungs as you release your grip on his neck, both of you engulfed in the aftermath of shared release.

You watch him in amazement as his fervent thrusts subside, and he eases into the embrace of your bed, a portrait of passion painted across his beautiful face.

As he gradually softens within you, you take the initiative to lift yourself off him, both of your essences clinging to your skin, a residue of your shared passion that you welcome without reservation.

As you recline beside him, a soft chuckle escapes your lips, a shared breathlessness enveloping both of you. The air in the room is charged with the echo of passion, leaving a tangible energy that binds your entangled forms together.

Breathless and sporting a satisfied grin, he turns to you, his eyes filled with a post-passion glow. “Fuck that was incredible,”' he murmurs, capturing the shared intensity of the moment in the curve of his smile.

An undeniable contentment colors your voice as you respond, “Yeah,” savoring the echoes of pleasure that linger in the air.

Suddenly, a spark of realization ignites within you, propelling you to move with swift purpose. You crawl back on top of him, a burst of energy that startles him, like a surprise in the midst of shared afterglow.

“Why did you leave me?” you inquire, a tinge of accusation laced with the bitter notes in your voice. “Without a word or a farewell. Why did you disappear without a trace?”

His eyes widen momentarily before giving way to an expression of anguish and sadness. A tug at your heart intensifies, as his face alone tells a story you fear can't be good.

He begins with a heavy admission, meeting your eyes with earnest sincerity, “My brother died.”

Your words stumble out in a rush, “Oh, God! I'm so sorry!” The unexpected revelation leaves you fumbling for the right response.

His words flow, carrying a weight of anger and grief, “It's alright. ButI felt so much anger and grief, you know?” he explains, “so much so that I couldn't shapeshift and was stuck in my cat form.”

You exhale a soft ‘aha’ at his words, and the realization washes over you— he was grappling with his own demons, just as you were.

“When I'm consumed by intense emotions, I lose control of my ability to shapeshift, and, and—” You witness a tearful welling in his eyes, prompting you to gently cup his cheeks, reassuring him that it's okay.

“I just wanted to be alone and I didn’t want to burden you…” A few tears spill from his eyes, and you tenderly catch them with your gentle fingers.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, finding solace in the curve of his neck, where his soft minty scent envelops you like a comforting embrace.

“I am so fucking sorry you had to endure that. I understand, truly. But you would never be a burden to me,” you express, gazing into his eyes with a tenderness that echoes your sincerity.

“I want to be there for you,” you declare, your own tears mirroring the empathy in your eyes.

“Ah, shit. I didn’t mean to cry. But, you know, I understand,” you say, your words accompanied by a wry smile as tears trickle down your face and onto Yoongi’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Kitten. I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

He seizes your cheeks, tugging you into a tender and unhurried kiss. Time loses its grip, and you're oblivious to the remnants of his seed mingling with your essence, creating a slippery trail between your pussy and his still-slick pelvis.

Lost in the rhythm of your kisses with Yoongi, you surrender to the moment, where every touch feels like a missing puzzle piece seamlessly falling into place.

The two cups of coffee are long forgotten.

Authors note (3): Thank you so very much if you have made it this far 😭 I know this story is a lot – I’ve been dealing with a lot of different stuff for many years, and some of it just got to be too much a few weeks ago, and this story popped into my head. It was therapeutic to write. I don’t know if people will like it or not, but in the end, that’s not what it’s about. It will just exist here.

If you struggle with any of these subjects or emotions, you’re always welcome in my inbox – I’m not a trained psychologist or anything, though! But sometimes it is better to voice your feelings, than struggling in silence. Everybody’s welcome 🫂

I hope you’re doing well. Thank you for you 💜

258 notes · View notes

drabblesandimagines · 1 year

Text

Good Days & Bad Days

Pairings: Sebastian/reader, Sebastian/farmer

Word count: 1,086

You’d got into the habit of waking a few minutes before your alarm clock. You guessed your circadian rhythm had finally synced itself to the early morning starts. You didn’t mind as long as it wasn’t ages before, but a few minutes was perfect as it meant to you could turn it off before it rang and woke up Sebastian.

It had taken your husband a few months to settle into your early morning routine when he moved onto the farm. He was much better at not going to bed late into the night, but it wasn’t necessary for him to join you at your 6am wake-up call so you did try your best not to disturb him too much when you got up. On occasion, he did get up to make you a coffee before sneaking back to bed but that was fine by you. Although the farm was large, you’d found a good routine to your mornings and you could get most of your everyday tasks done before 10am and have more of the afternoon for other things.

You turned off the alarm and crept out of bed, throwing on your dungarees as quietly as you could for the morning’s graft – you’d take a shower when you were done for the day. You’d checked the weather report the day before and it was meant to start off drizzling before heavy rain settled in early afternoon so you didn’t think any of the animals would be interested in leaving the comfort of the barn, but you’d at least give them the opportunity…

You returned to the house just after nine, calling it time for a coffee break. As you predicted, the animals seemed pretty cosy in their respective buildings and had shown no interest in leaving. You’d giving them all their morning pet – Sebastian had been amazed you could remember which ones you still needed to greet – milked the cows and collected the eggs, done a bit of weeding and got even harvested some vegetables. You had your eyes set on repairing some of the crumbling fence posts but you definitely needed a coffee before you started wielding a hammer.

You were surprised to see Sebastian wasn’t in the kitchen yet and you peeked through the door to see a lump in the bed, huddled under the covers.

You made two cups of coffee and carried them through to the bedroom, placing his mug carefully on his bedside table.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He greeted from underneath the covers, giving you a small fright as you thought he was sound asleep.

“Oh! Morning – I didn’t think you were awake yet. Coffee’s hot.”

“Mm.” He grunted in response, but he didn’t emerge.

“You okay in there?” You sat on the edge of the bed, clutching your own mug of coffee in your hands.

“I just… I just feel like sleeping today.” The lump in the cover mumbled.

“Oh, one of those days, huh?” You squeezed what you thought was a limb – not sure if it was a leg or an arm. “That’s okay, Seb. It’s gonna be a pretty miserable afternoon out there so I don’t think I’ll have a ton to do once that rolls in, but I can go into town and let you sleep.” Sebastian had been honest about his down days from the start of your relationship – they weren’t frequent and usually after some reassurance he had his day and the next was better.

His head popped out under the covers, well, enough to reveal his eyes at least under a mop of bedhead.

“I wouldn’t say no to you joining me back in bed.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smiled, “Hey, we could play video games in bed too, it’s been ages since we’ve done that.” A few months ago, on a trip to Zuzu City, you’d picked up a secondhand games console with some games that you could play as a two or four-player when Sam and Abigail had come round, and a copy of Frogger especially for Sebastian. On your return home, you’d dragged the TV right up to the edge of your bed, plugged in the console and you’d both gamed long into the evening. “And there’s pizza in the freezer. Only if you want to do all that, though.” You quickly added, realizing you’d gone off on a slight tangent of Sebastian’s bed day request.

“No, that sounds nice. Can we do that?”

“Of course we can, Seb. Whatever you want.” You took a big gulp of your coffee. “Mm, I’ll get all the important stuff done before this rain heads in and then take a shower, but then we can do whatever you want.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You kissed his forehead as he stayed buried under the covers. “Go back to sleep if you want, don’t worry about the coffee.”

“Hmm. Are you saying that because you want another cup?”

“Shush, you! I’ll have you know this is my first, actually.” You took another big gulp, “Right, back to the grind. See you in a bit!”

A few hours later, you had showered and dressed in a clean pair of pyjamas and treated yourself to a mid-afternoon nap cuddled up with your husband. Early evening, you’d cooked the pizza and brought it back into bed – cheesy crumbs be damned - before setting up the television and games console at the end of it. It had started off as friendly competition at first, but now you found yourselves competitively nudging each other as you battled through Jumino Kart. You got slightly ahead at one point and suddenly a hand was held over your eyes, leaving you blind as you mashed the buttons in desperation.

“Sabotage!”

You pulled his hand down, only to find he was now further ahead than you and soared past the checkpoint. The screen displayed “Player 1 wins!” and he stuck his tongue out at you as you folded your arms and glared.

“There’s no honour in a cheater’s victory.” You protested.

“Oh, and you blocking my view the last round was totally above board.”

“That’s my handicap as a newer Jumino Kart player.”

“Uh-huh…” Sebastian smirked, before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down onto the bed onto his chest in a hug. “Thank you for today, sweetheart.”

“That’s okay, I enjoyed it too.” You cuddled into his chest. “I love you - good days and bad days.”

“I love you - good days and bad days,” he repeated, kissing you on top of your head.

PS: I'm taking requests! Check out my Requests post for further info <3

#short and sweet #sdv x farmer #sdv sebastian x reader #sdv x reader #sdv sebastian #stardew sebastian x reader #fluff writing #ghostdogwrites #stardew valley #sebastian stardew x reader

444 notes · View notes

giac222 · 26 days

Text

I’m an Ashley Graves lover and defender till the end 🤞🏻🩷.

This is going to be a deep dive and a pretty long post, just a heads up! There’s a point in the beginning where I briefly discuss something else regarding TCOAAL because I felt that it ties in, but this post will mostly be focusing on Ashley + her experiences, and a little about how Andrew isn’t actually a doormat, not even close. 😶

Let’s get into it:

I adore her and I have the biggest soft spot for her, my empathy for her is through the damn roof. She’s a product of her environment, she wasn’t born the way she is (Andrew wasn’t either). It’s frustrating to see people claim she was born evil. I’d go as far to argue that she isn’t completely evil either. Her soul is the color of pitch black according to the demon in the game. But why is that? What caused it? The reason for this is because of how she’s been treated by everyone else around her throughout her whole life. It’s not like she asked or wanted to become a “tar soul”. Her environment made her sour, it made her hate people.. including herself.

After Ashley sacrifices the warden to the demon, when she’s thinking to herself, a text box comes up that says “You decide not to linger on the fact that your soul is apparently a vicious, pitch-black mess.” and after that we see another one that says “Guess you already knew that”.

I was thinking to myself, why the hell am I so attached to this character? Lmao. Why do I have such a huge soft spot for her? Then when I was thinking about it I realized it’s because I relate to some of what she’s been through. Especially her terribly low self-esteem that causes her to feel unlovable, ooo that hit home for me. For quite some time I dealt with that, and let me tell you, it truly is an awful feeling. It can make you very mean and bitter. It quite literally eats away at you. I’m 22 now and I’m able to reflect on those past experiences, that’s when I realized how bad it really was. When it comes to someone having poor self-esteem and not much self worth, it stems from somewhere. People don’t just randomly start hating themselves, there’s something that causes it to happen. It could be from a variety of things such as trauma, childhood experiences, comparison to others, and discrimination.

It truly sucks to see how many people online that seem to hate her (not on Tumblr, but almost everywhere else). Her backstory breaks my heart, it’s tragic, and it seems that people completely ignore what she’s gone through and what she STILL goes through.

I also hate that the game has kind of, in a way, become a meme due to the controversy. This game delves into very serious and depressing topics, so for losers online with 0 media literacy to water it down to “the incest game” is sooo agitating. This is just a personal opinion of mine, but I also feel as though the controversy made people play the game for the wrong reasons. Including a lot of “edgy” teenagers 😬. I don’t think I need to elaborate on that, I’ve touched on it before in a different post. I mean the amount of loud and wrong takes I’ve seen about the game… All I can do is shake my head 💀.

So, I’ll share my (maybe?) controversial opinion that some of the “fanbase” is part of the problem too, not just the people who hate the game that don’t even know what’s going on. I’ve talked about this before so I’ll keep it brief, but I feel it fits in the post so I’m including it. But on the game’s subreddit there are people who will reduce the game itself to fap material, and it doesn’t make sense to me because there’s quite literally nothing overly sexual or explicit in the game?? Even in the questionable route vision we don’t see anything explicit, we just know what happens. I’m like have y’all forgotten that this is a PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR game?? How some of these people managed to reduce Nemlei’s work that she clearly put a lot of thought and effort into that covers dark topics and serious issues to fap material is beyond me…. What a way… just what a way. Let’s hope they get weeded out of the fandom before ch. 3 drops 🙏🏻.

Just to clarify so no one gets confused, I’m NOT referring to people who create NSFW art/posts of the game, like duh you guys know I love Ashley and Andrew 🤭🤭. I know what I’m about! 😂. Seriously though, I’m referring to people in the Reddit community who will quite literally just take people’s NSFW art (any fan art in general really) and upload it there without the artist’s consent (edit: I think if they give credit it’s not a big deal, and some artists may not care regardless. Some probably care, some don’t). It just seems like the NSFW stuff is the only thing a lot of them care about, and the shit they say is so unhinged at times I’m like???? Seek help. (Obviously it isn’t all of the members, but it’s definitely a lot speaking from my personal experience there before I left). In a way, I can’t blame outsiders for side eyeing the fanbase if that’s their first impression.

Between the amount of haters TCOAAL has and some of the questionable “fans”…. Yeah, we’re in the trenches 😂. That’s part of the reason why I left the server and now only participate in the Tumblr community. Not even trying to gate-keep or sound like an asshole, but a lot of the Reddit community doesn’t fit the game. I said what I said! As I’ve said before in a previous post, most of the trash takes I’ve seen on the game stem from there, and YouTube too. 😬

TCOAAL is a game that requires you to think and dig deeper, that’s why I love it. It touches on very heavy topics. Tbh it’s not something you can simply take at face value, that just defeats the purpose.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk about Ashley! 🩷✨

When you pay attention to all the details and look deeper into Ashley’s character, you see that Ashley has quite literally been treated like shit her entire life by EVERYONE around her except for Andrew. That’s why it’s so easy for her to treat people as disposable, because that’s how SHE was treated her entire life 💔.

This scene specifically proves that:

Andrew really is everything to her. That boy is her sun, her moon, and all of her stars. 🥲💚. We see that he’s her main, and basically only source of happiness. He’s the only thing/person she cares about. I find it genuinely heartbreaking that he has been the only person Ashley could depend on throughout her life. Due to this, it makes sense as to why Ashley goes to such extreme measures to keep him around. if she lost him, she’d have no one else. So of course she’s scared that he’ll leave her. Even though we know he’ll stick by her side no matter what, Ashley does not. She’s quite literally the love of his life but she doesn’t know that. 😩

Then again, Andrew doesn’t show it, so of course she doesn’t get it. He’s never said I love you back to her, the closest we get to that is when he says “I like you… but you’re so exhausting” after their huge fight. If you look closely at his face in that scene, you’ll see gray blush lines on his cheek. Ashley has been abandoned by everyone except for Andrew, she needs validation and reassurance from him to know that he’s there to stay. He doesn’t really give that to her though, but he needs to STAT! As I said, we know he’s in it for the long haul, but Ashley does not.

You see, Ashley operates under the idea that Andrew doesn’t actually care about her. She believes that he couldn’t love her of his own will and that she has to manipulate in order for him to stay. I hold the opinion that she doesn’t do those things because she necessarily wants to, she does it because she feels like she has to in order to keep him around. She manipulates, but she isn’t very good at it 🫣.

Thinking about their huge fight in apartment 302 after Andrew killed that lady (she definitely did not attack him first, but we’ll get into that in a minute). When Andrew’s choking Ashley she brings up the fact that she’s the only one who can make his nightmares go away, but guess what we see in ch. 2? Before going to snoop on the cultist, if you go back to their motel room and you interact with the bed. A text box pops up that says “oh yeah, you tooootally have nightmares as often as you claim.”.. So, we now know that Andrew doesn’t actually have that many nightmares, he uses it as an excuse because he wants to sleep next to Ashley and be close to her.

Back to the apartment 302 incident, when Ashley goes back to that apartment after completing the ritual, she sees that Andrew killed the lady that lived there, he claims she attempted to attack him with the nail gun, but the nail gun was in the same damn spot! People should’ve started side eyeing him at that point in the game. I know I did LOL, “doormat extraordinaire” my ass 😂. Btw, there are people who genuinely believe he tried to sleep with the lady in 302, but she wouldn’t do it so he killed her….. 🤦🏻‍♀️. I wish I was joking.

Anyway, in Andrew’s dream when we go over the justified deaths, with the lady in 302, the first reason he mentions is “Ashley would have wanted to kill this one anyway” then he brings up no witnesses. To me, the fact that the first reason he mentions is Ashley wanting to kill her anyway showed that he killed her for Ashley more than anything. I mean, It did make Ashley happy that she died. He didn’t say anything about getting attacked, although it was obvious that was a lie already lmao. I believe that’s why he got so frustrated, which led to him getting pissed off after Ashley started accusing him of trying to sleep with that woman. Especially because once she started, it escalated quickly and she just kept going.. He was like “girl??? I literally killed this woman for YOU.” I could be wrong, but that was my interpretation on the situation.

Another interesting thing I thought about was how during their argument, Andrew tells Ashley to butt out of his love life, and that she always makes up some bullshit crisis for him to leave/stay when he’s out or about to leave to go meet up with someone. But in the flashback with Julia during his dream, while she’s raising genuine concern and mentions that it could be good for Ashley to learn some independence for her own sake. Also for Andrew to stop cutting things short on her, for the sake of their relationship, and so they can spend more time together. Andrew responds to that with “If your sister needed something, wouldn’t you go?” 👀. Andrew likes Ashley being dependent on him, he doesn’t want her to become independent. During their heated argument he admits to knowing her so called crisis she has before he leaves is “bullshit”. Yet he still chooses to leave to be with her anyway. Because again, Ashley’s the love of his life, people can deny it all they want but the proof is right there lmao. Not to mention he looked so sad hugging Julia until he asked her to tie her hair up… I see right through you Andrew 😂.

Also, him bringing up Nina’s death (Julia’s best friend) and lying to Julia’s face about it like he had no part in it, that was actually scary not going to lie 🫢. Plus him lying about Nina’s death affecting Ashley…like you know damn well. After their huge fight, Ashley said she was glad that Nina choked, which Andrew responded with “I know you are”.

That’s the thing about Andrew, he’s very good at lying and we see multiple examples of this in the game. When they were at their parents house Ashley decided to stay quiet because she couldn’t keep up with Andrew’s lies. In a different post of mine I talked about how “Andy” was a facade, but Ashley doesn’t understand that yet. She thinks he’s changing for the worst, but in reality he’s always been that way. His true colors are just now finally coming out.

Andrew and Ashley both had a shitty upbringing. I mean Mrs.Graves made Andrew take care of Ashley when he was a child, and I remember in a flashback he asked Ashley if she wanted to go with him because their mom gave him money for groceries, like ma’am why are you making your child go out to buy groceries??? Also, at the end of the day, she sold them both to organ harvesters. However, Andrew was treated somewhat better than Ashley during their childhood. We see this through the plushies in the puzzle before the questionable route vision, if you set Ashley’s plushie down at the table she immediately falls off. At their parents new home during dinner, Ashley sat on a mini ladder while everyone else had a chair, and simply the fact that Mrs.Graves gave Andrew their new house address, but didn’t give it to Ashley. They always shut Ashley out, they never cared about her nor did they try.

Now, let’s talk about one of, in my opinion, the saddest parts of the game. The flashback of Leyley’s birthday 🥲.

We see that neither her parents nor her friends cared about her birthday, they didn’t even try. She looked so sad talking about her friends here 😭. The fact that she brought up how her friends are always busy when she asks them for something shows that this is a recurring thing, her friends suck. I am in tearsss. I’m sick rn, she deserves everything and more. Andrew attempted to make her birthday special for her at least 🥺.

Also, I know Julia seems sweet from what we’ve seen, but I’m suspicious of her tbh 👀. We know Ashley hung out around her and Nina. I remember seeing one of the screenshots from a progress report where Andrew asks them if they could invite Ashley to sit with them sometime at lunch, so I’m assuming that’s how their “friendship” started.

Nina had a crush on Andrew, and Julia ended up dating him later on. I think it’s possible they only hung out with her just to get closer to Andrew. Julia wasn’t a very good friend to Ashley it seems, so it makes sense that she wouldn’t be thrilled about them dating. Especially because Andrew is the most important, well, really the only important person to her.

Something else to think about when it comes to people in Ashley’s life outside of Andrew: After Andrew killed the warden to protect Ashley and before they left their neighbors apartment, Ashley tells Andrew “I don’t give a rat’s ass about mom or dad. Or any of my so-called friends anymore.” and “Not one of them felt it necessary to answer my calls…”. When she says this she looks very upset. So, even in present time, Ashley still gets treated like shit by everyone around her except for Andrew, this has been an ongoing thing since her childhood.

Next up is this scene with Mrs.Graves while setting up the ritual:

This was after Ashley says “Lookie ma! I drew a circle!”. Mrs.Graves immediately starts putting her down. Ashley’s response to what her mom said shows me that this is something that commonly happened. I’m sure there were many times in Ashley’s life where she’d attempt to impress her mom and receive praise, but would immediately get shut down by her instead. The more I think about how terribly Ashley was really treated, the more sad I get about it, what the fuck 😭.

Ok, last thing to dissect. I wanted to talk about this comment from a YouTube video that came up under the “all” section on there. Beware, it might make you lose braincells. 💀

“Ashley is heavily sexualized” let me stop you right there ✋🏻 lmao. No she is not. At least to me she isn’t, I never got the impression that the game sexualized her. A lot of male players sexualize her (because of course they do 🙄), but the game? I disagree. You could say Ashley views herself as a sex object, but that doesn’t mean she’s sexualized by the game. She views herself that way because of her low self-esteem and the fact that she doesn’t believe someone could genuinely love her. Not to mention her internalized misogyny. Source? I’m speaking from experience. Having terribly low self-esteem really does drive you to dark places. It can lead to you basing your self-worth on people finding you sexually attractive or just attractive in general, like your self worth is based on your looks alone. That’s how you get validation even if it’s from a not so good place. It wears off pretty fast though, and it leaves a poor after taste. It’s only a temporary “good” feeling. If you don’t like yourself, no amount of attention will be ever good enough for you or truly make you feel better.

“Goth-esque fetish ware”, first of all it’s “wear”, and the “fetish wear” in question is just shorts, a black shirt, and a choker 💀. I cannot lmfao. Does that mean Andrew has “goth-esque fetish wear” too? Bc him and Ashley literally dress the same 😂. Not that this matters, but Ashley and Andrew are more emo to me lmao.

“She’s definitely a manipulative psychopath”… opinion immediately discarded because of this part of the comment alone.

“Her heavily sexualized existence”…. Don’t piss me off 🙄 like??? I can’t believe they said that. People with a brain larger than the size of an atom know that Ashley’s entire existence isn’t sexualized, I’d argue that it’s quite literally the opposite. It’s almost like they want Ashley to be this seductive sex kitten, but she just isn’t that. They project that onto her. I feel like some people think that Ashley simply existing with a bigger bust means she’s automatically sexualized, some men feel this way about women with bigger busts in real life too, so them doing it to a fictional character doesn’t shock me. Worms for brains I swear.

The comment Ashley makes about her “big fat tits” in the motel room during her mini argument with Andrew was literally so unserious. There’s the scene where Andrew was lying on the couch in their parents house when Ashley wakes him up out of his dream, and we see him looking at her boobs from his POV. However, that was literally so mild, you hardly even saw anything lmfao. I feel like Nemlei added that in to show that Andrew’s sexually attracted to her, plus it was a little before the scene where Ashley playfully bites him, and (in my opinion) where they almost fully crossed the line (because of Andrew mind you) before their mom came in. We all saw that pillow placement 😂. There are other signs of him being attracted to her before that as well, like when we see him push the thought of hugging her to the back of his mind “where it may fester with all the thoughts he wish he never had” + that scene in the kitchen where he was sort of touching her butt and had his fingers through her belt loop, but when their mom came in he jerked away and looked as if he got caught.

People will claim that Ashley is the only one that’s incestuous and that she “forced” it onto Andrew, but in ch. 2, we see that Andrew is arguably more incestuous than she is. Ashley loves Andrew to death, but she isn’t exactly horny for him the same way he’s horny for her. Think about their reactions to the questionable route vision. Ashley was pretty chill about it, while Andrew was beat red and embarrassed because his repressed inner thoughts just got exposed. The demon clocked his tea 😂.

I’ve spoken about this before so I’ll keep it brief, when it comes to sex Ashley doesn’t care much about it and views it as transactional, as something she can use for personal gain. As I kind of said already, to me, her viewing herself as a sex object and having that view on sex in general ties into the fact that she has internalized misogyny and her personal belief that she’s unlovable. So, not only does she view herself as a sex object, but you could say that she also views other women as sex objects too.

This is my personal opinion which I’ve shared before, but when her and Andrew fully cross the line (because they’re definitely going to) and he finally shows her that he loves her as well, I think her views on sex may change a bit. That she’ll start seeing it as something out of love that they can both enjoy. As something they can experience together, instead of her ignoring her own desires and being his personal sex object to use to attempt to keep him around.

Do I think that Ashley isn’t horny for him at all? Tbh no. I mean she literally says she assumed it would happen between them eventually anyway, so she’s definitely thought about it before. However, it’s nowhere near Andrew’s level lmao. We know Ashley is a virgin and honestly, I think Andrew is the only one she’d happily lose it to. If she were to sleep with anyone else, I doubt she’d enjoy it and would only use it as personal gain for something. As of right now, she views sex as a way of keeping Andrew around, however, I feel this is because of the fact that she doesn’t actually think he loves her and will stay with her on his own. She loves Andrew and wants to be with him, she wants him to reciprocate her love. As I like to say, Andrew’s her boo 😂, that girl doesn’t want anyone else.

Alright, let’s finish dissecting that goofy YouTube comment.

“practically puts the usually male players protective instincts into overdrive.” I don’t know wtf this means lmao, but it made me cringe. Some men need to be banned from speaking on Ashley until we figure out what’s going on 😂. Bc every time they speak on her I lose braincells. “Protective instincts” yet they quite literally don’t understand anything about her character or her struggles 💀. Maybe sit this one out lmao.

Not to sound like a broken record, but a big part of Ashley’s character is that she has very low self-worth and that she doesn’t believe people, more specifically Andrew, could actually love her (��). I mean think about how she’s been treated for her whole life, it makes sense as to why she developed those feelings about herself and others. Her mindset is “well people never cared about me, so why would I care about them?”. Having people regularly treat you like shit takes a toll on your self-esteem and impacts your world view. Especially if it happens in your childhood.

Ashley quite literally loves Andrew more than she loves herself. I want better for her :’( and she deserves better too. I don’t care about the Ashley haters opinions. There are people who believe that she’s faking her low self-esteem in order to manipulate Andrew….. 🤦🏻‍♀️. Have you even paid attention to anything in the game?? That’s one of the biggest things about her character like hello?

I should have added this in earlier oops, but I’m adding it in now. After her and Andrew first talk to the lady in 302 and they leave her apartment, Ashley asks why the lady got special treatment but they didn’t, and why she didn’t get any food. Andrew responds with “maybe you just aren’t pretty enough”, he wasn’t being serious, but she took it that way. It didn’t help that he said “I mean… wasn’t she?” After Ashley asked if he thought she was pretty. That’s why Ashley wanted to shoot her after the ritual. You can see Ashley looks upset when she asks “do you really think I’m not pretty enough?”. Then gets angry and says “So ugly am I, that I shouldn’t even be fed?”. This is her insecurity and low self-esteem kicking in on full display.

This is a similar situation to what happened when her and Andrew were looking for something to lock Nina in the crate with at the warehouse. She asked him what he thought about Nina and if he found her pretty. He said “she’s fine… I guess”, which made Ashley unhappy. Even though Andrew wasn’t into her, like at all. Ashley has been dealing with insecurity and low self-esteem ever since she was a little girl 😭. I’m so upset for her like you guys have no idea.

After Ashley traps Nina in the crate, there’s a point where she’s crying and says “It’s not fair!! Why does everyone like her better??” “I’m loud and weird and annoying and no one likes me at all!!!”. 😭. My heart is breaking as we speak. It’s hard for me to believe she said all of that just to manipulate Andrew in that scene. I know in ch. 3 we will be delving more into their childhood, and I have a theory that Ashley was also bullied in school. I mean to refer to herself as loud, weird, annoying, and to say that no one likes her at all. That absolutely came from somewhere, and I don’t think it was just from Mrs.Graves.

So, to see people with the emotional depth of a raindrop get online and say that she’s solely the problem, that Andrew needs to get rid of her, and that she’s simply just evil… is, to put it lightly, very annoying. I’m gonna say something, you know I love both Ashley and Andrew, but we need to be honest! People give Andrew too much of a pass. I mean they literally excuse all of the terrible things he’s done and blame Ashley for “making” him do it. They give him a pass for everything, but have 0 empathy for Ashley despite everything going wrong in her life since she was born. They completely ignore that she’s a product of her environment. When it comes down to it, what good experiences in life has she really had?

Also, Andrew is more violent than Ashley is. I think that’s self explanatory. People seem to forget that she quite literally just wants to live a peaceful life with Andrew. During the “quarantine” while they were still in their old apartment, she says “Aside from the starving, it’s not so bad here.” and “Aside from starving, I like it here”. Ashley doesn’t want to live a life of violence and chaos, and we see this in the room before unlocking the door that leads us to the two burial route choices. If you place the knife down (violence) nothing happens, but when you place the flower down (love) - (my bad guys originally I put heart instead of flower, I changed it!) - the door becomes unlocked. She also gets upset when Andrew tells her that they can’t live at their parents new house, she literally doesn’t want to be on the run and just wants stability.

On Pinterest, I see girls talk about how much they hate Ashley in the comment sections. They literally just do this because they think Andrew’s hot 😂. Especially when they call her a bitch, like grow up 🙄. I’ve also seen people refer to her as a “pick me”?? Literally how? Immature teens need to be banned from playing this game LOL. It’s giving those male celebrity fandoms that dig to find anything “problematic” on a girl said male celebrity is dating just because they’re pissed it isn’t them, they don’t actually care if she’s problematic or not.

It’s literally just misogyny, they do this a lot to women in media. Breaking Bad is the biggest example of this, the people that act like Skyler White is worse than Walter are delusional as hell. Sorry, but If you’re misogynistic, lack empathy and/or emotional depth, TCOAAL isn’t for you 🤷🏻‍♀️. Period. That’s why the game deserves a better fanbase than the one it has outside of Tumblr. It deserves better in general.

They don’t care to look into why Ashley is the way she is. If it wasn’t obvious already, Andrew brings out Ashley’s worst behavior and blames her for making him do bad things. In his mind he can’t be guilty, so he needs something on the outside to blame (Ashley). Mrs.Graves contributes to this btw, during the setup of the ritual before they sacrificed her and Mr.Graves she was pretty much saying “I know you don’t want to do this, I know she’s making you do it!” 🤦🏻‍♀️. She sounds like one of those boy moms that go “my son didn’t do shit!” 😂.

The worst are the people who reduce Ashley to fap material and a “hot crazy girl they can fix or make worse” 🤪, and basically fetishize her (unchecked) mental health issues that contribute to how she acts. Again, she’s had crippling insecurities and low self-esteem since she was a kid, Ashley has had just about 0 good life experiences outside of the ones with Andrew. So it is incredibly frustrating to see. I’m like I hate y’all I really do, read the damn room 🙄. They need to stop projecting their weirdo shit onto her.

People who fetishize mental illness and talk about how they want to “date a crazy bitch” are so gross. If/when they actually date someone with said mental health issues, when things get bad and they don’t fit the fantasy anymore, they’ll get disgusted and drop the person struggling with mental issues like trash. Anytime I see a guy say “crazy girls with mental issues are better in bed!”…. I’m like I know what type of man you are 🫥…. Perish 🗣️.

Ashley and Andrew both have unchecked mental illness, we know this. It’s quite literally not their fault. However, I personally don’t feel comfortable diagnosing them. Every time I see someone online say they were a born a psychopath, sociopath, etc. I lose brain cells. Mind you, I’m literally majoring in psychology and I still don’t feel comfortable diagnosing them.

To wrap things up because I know this post is LONG! I empathize with both Andrew and Ashley because they’ve both been dealt a bad hand in life. Their parents failed them in every way, and the society they live in is totally dystopian. However, when it comes to Ashley specifically? I have all the empathy for her in the world, especially because I understand some of the things she’s dealt with and how painful it really is. Digging deeper into her character shows you that she has quite literally been through hell and back. You can say she’s a victim turned villain, but honestly? I don’t really even consider her a villain, maybe that’s controversial to say but 🤷🏻‍♀️, I don’t think she’s irredeemable either. She’s someone who was hurt very badly, her wounds run deep, and she never really got to heal from any of it.

I just want her and Andrew to have a happy ending, it would be nice for them to experience genuine happiness for once. I would also like to see Ashley gain some self love in ch. 3, maybe Andrew will be able to help her with that in a way as their relationship improves.

Honestly, people who act like the questionable burial route is the “bad” ending are in denial so bad. Nemlei has said that “Burial” and “Decay” aren’t an indicator of a “good” or “bad” ending though. There will also be multiple outcomes to discover. I’m both excited, and scared lol.

I love Ashley Graves so much as a character, she’s so interesting and complex. I don’t play about her 😂. When it comes to defending her I’m on the frontlines lmao. The misogyny/hate when it comes to her is crazyyy. I’ll be the odd one out I don’t care, she’s my girlie 💕. It’s always refreshing to see other people who adore her and actually understand her as a character.

~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading ❤️. I think this is my longest post yet 😳.

Also, a big thank you to everyone for all of the notes on my TCOAAL posts! I truly appreciate it. I’m so glad other people adore this game just as much as I do. :)

Unfortunately I’m not able to follow people back since this is a side blog. :/, but I do really appreciate everyone that follows me, I hope you like what I post. 💜

I’m currently working on creating an ooak doll of Ashley! 🤭💕. I’m SO excited to finish it and post her!

I plan on making a post about the Decay route at some point, because I realized I haven’t discussed it much. Probably because that route makes me sad 😓. However, it’s still incredibly interesting and I’m both excited and nervous to see where it goes.

#that one girl who don’t play about ashley graves #ashley graves’s defense attorney #tcoaal spoilers #tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #nemlei #ashley graves #andrew graves #coffincest #gravecest #leyley graves #andy graves #kit9 #i hate reddit #i hate stupid people #this is a pretty long post oops #long post #longer post #just my thoughts

68 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

ask-the-critters

S-M-I-L-E Everyday!

tugroup

TU GROUP

hejaarin

hejaa

shanderschmechel-blog

Sin título

shhish