#MysMe oneshot

[erimeows]

In The Same Bed

You lie awake in bed, staring at your fiance as he sleeps away in your shared bed. 

Awake, Saeyoung Choi is energetic and loud and intense. Sometimes, when things are bad, he’s angry and sad, but still intense. It’s very rare that you get to see him peaceful, so you relish in it now. His eyes are shut, long lashes fluttering against his high cheekbones. His soft, pink lips are slightly open, deep breaths coming in and out of them. His curly red hair fans out across his pillow like a halo.

And, his palm is on top of your shoulder, because he always has to be touching you to fall asleep these days.

You smile. It’s nice to see Saeyoung so relaxed- getting good sleep for once. You remember the many nights he spent awake working for the agency. 

Life is different now.

Life is better.

But, it is past midnight and you can’t sleep even though the two of you have plans in the morning to meet the rest of the RFA for brunch. Alas, Saeyoung must have forgotten to put his phone on silent mode before bed. It sits on his nightstand, buzzing away. Again and again. Vibrating with no end in sight.

You assume the notifications are from the RFA’s chatroom. Zen and Yoosung are still terrible about staying up well into the night and early morning talking online, with Jaehee and Jumin occasionally joining in when they’re busy with work.

You don’t know Saeyoung’s phone passcode. He’s told you it multiple times, but it’s ridiculously long and impossible to remember. You’re honestly too lazy to write it down. It’s not like you need to use his phone very often, anyway.

You could wake him up, but then again… Saeyoung looks so peaceful like this. You’d hate to interrupt his sleep.

So, as quietly as you can, you sneak out of bed and go to the living room couch.

Hopefully, the both of you can get some sleep this way. 

~

Seven wakes up to a loud crack of thunder, golden eyes snapping wide open at the sudden noise. Rain falls outside, loudly splattering against the roof and the ground.

Heart beating hard against his chest, he reaches over for you. You always hold him when it storms, so he smiles at the thought of burying his face in your sweatshirt, having your arms wrapped tight around him, feeling your (h/l) (h/c) hair tickling him throughout the night, and smelling the remnants of your perfume from the day.

But, when his hand doesn’t immediately land on your chest or stomach, his brow furrows. Your side of the bed is cold, too, and he can’t feel you anywhere underneath the blanket. So, he sits up and looks for you. Panic runs courses through his veins at the same time that his breath quickens. 

You definitely aren’t there.

Seven tosses the covers to the floor and stands up, eyes darting around the moonlit darkness. You’re nowhere to be seen. His gaze flickers to the master bathroom that’s connected to your room, only to find that the door is open and the light is off.

You aren’t there, either. 

Seven can’t help but freak out. Ever since the two of you saved Saeran, you’ve slept in the same bed. Always. Every single night since that day, unless Seven was staying with Saeran in the hospital- and on those nights, he couldn’t sleep without you by his side. 

He listens closely to gauge any potential noises from the kitchen or the living room. Maybe you needed a drink of water, or a midnight snack- or maybe you had a nightmare and needed to distract yourself by moving to the living room to watch one of your favorite shows? But if the latter was the case, why wouldn’t you have woken him up…?

Seven quickly realizes that there is no noise.

In fact, the entire house is eerily silent. 

He reaches into the nightstand and grabs the pistol that he has hidden there for emergencies before quickly sliding out of the bedroom. He slowly moves through the hallway with his back pressed firm against the wall and his pistol loaded and gripped tightly within his hands, ready to shoot. 

Did you choose to leave? Pack a bag in the middle of the night and high tail it out to somewhere- to someone else? That’s probably the best outcome, if you’re gone. He doesn’t deserve you anyway, he supposes. Maybe it was too good to be true.

‘No, no… MC wouldn’t just leave without an explanation. But what else…?’

What could it be? An intruder- someone from the agency who wants to get back at him for leaving? Unknown- Saeran? No, Saeran is happily living with the two of you, along with Vanderwood. Surely if there were an intruder one of them would’ve noticed? 

Seven slowly but surely makes his way to the living room and lets out a sigh of relief when he sees you on the couch.

Sleeping.

Your chest rises and falls with slow, steady breaths. Your face looks peaceful.

You’re fine. 

Seven lets out a sigh of relief. His vision is blurry as he comes down from the panic of waking up alone, but he manages to unload his pistol and make it back to your shared bedroom to lock it back in the top drawer of the nightstand. Then, he trudges back to the living room. With the anxiety and adrenaline leaving his body in waves, the uncomfortable sensations of ice cold air and exhaustion weigh on him and have goosebumps rising on his skin.

He gets in front of the couch and kneels down in front of you before placing a warm hand on top of your head and gently stroking your hair. 

“Hm?” You blink and sit up, your hair ruffled from sleep. 

You groggily rub your eyes.

“Sweetie,” Seven starts. He immediately feels guilty for waking you up over his own issues. He should’ve just let you sleep on the couch… “Sorry to wake you up.”

“Are you okay?” You question.

“Why’d you come in here?”

Though you’re clearly safe, Seven can’t help but fear that you might’ve come to the couch because he did something to upset you.

“Your phone kept vibrating- guess you forgot to put it on silent before bed,” You explain. Relief washes over Seven almost instantly. “I couldn’t sleep because of it. I didn’t wanna wake you up, so… I just moved to the couch.”

“I’ll turn my phone off. Can you come back to bed?”

“Yeah, sure,” You nod and start to stand up.

Before you can fully stand, Seven does so first and picks you up bridal style. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck to secure yourself as you’re carried to the bedroom. 

Upon returning to bed, Seven gently sets you down on top of the sheets and crawls into bed with you. He reaches over to where his phone is charging on the nightstand and turns it on silent mode. 

Though he feels much better now, he isn’t quite sure he can handle a panic like that ever again. 

“Sweetie… You can’t leave like that without telling me first.”

“Hm? Why not?” You ask, reaching over and gently resting a hand on the side of Seven’s face. He leans into your touch. “I just wanted to make sure you got good sleep.”

“You scared me,” He answers. “I thought- I thought you were gone. What if someone had taken you from me?”

“What? Saeyoung, no one is going to come in and take me. Do you know how insane the security system is?”

Admittedly, you have a point. Ever since Saeran and Vanderwood moved in, he’s only upped the abilities of his home security system, even laying out traps around the perimeter of his house for any potential intruders.

“I don’t know. I mean, I know it’s irrational, but what if you went to sleep in the living room and someone somehow got past it? They could just come in and hurt you, and I would be none the wiser,” Seven insists, only to realize just how crazy he sounds. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He’s crazy about you. So, of course he wants to keep you safe, but he also knows it’s insane to expect you to never sleep anywhere else. “No, I know I sound ridiculous. You don’t have to say anything. I’m not trying to be overprotective, I just… I love you, and I want you to be safe.”

“Saeyoung,” You reassuringly murmur and reach over to place a hand on top of one of Seven’s. “It’s okay. I’m okay, and I love you, too.”

“Okay,” Seven sighs, lays down flat on the bed, and pulls the covers over the two of you, but keeps his eyes trained on your face. You really are fine. You’re here, happy, and chatting with him like normal, all with that beautiful smile of yours. He feels somewhat embarrassed for freaking out the way he did now that you’ve managed to calm him down. “Anxiety aside, I can’t sleep without you anymore, anyway. I wake up all the time and the only thing that settles me back to sleep is feeling you next to me.”

“You’re so sweet,” You offer a soft smile, and then open your arms wide. Seven smiles back before accepting your invitation and allowing you to pull him close to your chest. At the sound of your slow, steady heartbeat, he immediately settles down and cuddles into you. “I sleep better with you around, too, y’know.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then… Stay in the same bed with me forever, okay?” Saeyoung asks as his eyes fall shut. 

He can already feel sleep start to take over his body again.

“As long as you keep letting me cuddle like this every night,” You answer, to which Seven laughs.

“Of course.”

And with that, the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

[onlinekitsune]

LET ME IN: SAEYOUNG CHOI (PART TWO)

"make your way to me through the waves"

PAIRING, GENRE, WARNINGS ─ saeyoung choi x gnc!reader, not proofread, this is mostly comfort?? kinda just on saeyoung's side sorrryyy

SYNOPSIS ─ after a bit of an argument played out, between you. saeyoung returns back inside of the bedroom. unaware that you're actually awake, he begins to talk out his feelings.

WRITER’S NOTE ─ a handful of people requested a part two of the original!! which i honored and very gratful for!! i have a hard time liking my content, so when others tell me they enjoyed it, it means a lot! i tried my best with this but, kinda lost where i was going with it. again, a bit of dialogue is taken directly from the game. (day 8/9 iirc) i hope you enjoy! and again, thank you for all your kind words and support! i know i am off and on about posting content on here, but know that your words aren't just ignored!! so erm... anyways. do you think i could do a part three lmao

Your dreams were hard to recall as you continued to lay still in bed. Perhaps that was for the better, a dream about the argument prior or even recalling happier times in the chatroom would haunt you. You took a deep breath, not bothering to even open your eyes or get up. You felt exhausted, mentally and physically. It was ironic to you how crying provided the same effects as if you were to actually do something straining. Your hand slid through your sheets, blindingly guiding you to your phone. Before you could even reach it, you hear the door creak open. You laid completely still, unsure of what to do. Footsteps gently got closer, stopping as they reached right in front of you. The sound of fabric brushing against each other filled the room. Your heart raced, not sure what to expect. But you continued to stay still.

“You’re… asleep? Good.” Seven sighed, breaking the silence. He reached out his hand, brushing against the sheets. "You’re really quiet while you’re sleeping...” The room returned to its silence for a moment. You felt him lean his upper body on the bed, only being able to assume that he was kneeling before you. “You’re something, you know? I… must have hurt you by saying all those things, but you somehow manage to still be so bright. Even now. You remind me of the 707 I pretend to be in the chatroom. You have more in common with him than… Saeyoung.”

Your face slightly furrowed, hearing his voice become soft and vulnerable. You so desperately wanted to sit up and comfort him. But, you knew that if you did he’d immediately retreat. You continued pretending to be asleep, allowing him to continue. 

“Saeyoung is dark and pessimistic. His cold and complicated personality is the true me. I-I can’t wear the mask of the happy-go-lucky 707. I want you to realize that and be disappointed. I’m not a fun and cool person. I can put you in danger. So, don’t waste your feelings on me. I know telling you this won’t stop you. You’re so strange.” He continued. Hearing him talk bad about himself made your heart ache. If only he knew. If only he could see himself from your perspective. His hand hovered over yours before gently placing it on top, dissipating your thoughts. His touch was gentle, as if any friction could cause you to crumble beneath his fingers. “No, it's not you that's strange. It’s me. You’re actually… so nice and warm. You know, I… I sometimes dream about you accepting the real me. It’s a ridiculous dream, I know. But, thank you for allowing me to dream, at the very least.” His thumb brushed against the back of your hand before slipping away. 

The silence filled the room again, accompanied by your heartbeat in your ears. The weight on the bed returns to how it was, as he gets up. “Please, remember in your dreams that you can’t trust V… or even me. Be less nice to me, so that when I disappear, you won’t be hurt. Don’t trust anyone, and promise me you’ll stay safe. Allowing me to protect you is more than enough. It’s more than I deserve. It’s enough for Saeyoung.” He uttered, slowly turning away from you. You snuck a glance, seeing that he was now facing away from you but stood still.

“Saeyoung.” You let out, softly. You shifted from the bed, sitting up against the headboard. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just leaving-”

“Saeyoung. Please. Just wait a second.” You pleaded, looking up at him with soft eyes. He winced, hearing his name come from you a second time. He took a deep breath, and turned around to face you. He kept a straight face, but you could see the ache in his eyes. “Can we sit and talk?” You added. He hesitated, but ultimately gave in. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.

“So, I can assume you heard everything?”

“I…Yes, I did. I didn’t want to pretend to be asleep but, also didn’t want you to run off.” you answered, grabbing onto your wrist. Your gaze met him as he turned his head to look at you. “Listen, I know how you feel. Pretending to be this happy-go-lucky person. I have experience with that, clearly. I don’t know how much you actually found out about me but… just know we have that in common, okay? I like yo-”

“Even if you say you like me, my life can’t embrace anything. You don’t know how it feels to live this kind of life. You shouldn’t be nice to me when you don’t know anything. The person you truly like is the 707 in the chatroom, just… forget about me. About this.” he interrupted, turning away from you. He was mere moments from leaving out the door, you felt it. And if he did, it’d return you back to where you were. In a moment of desperation, you bolted forward, hugging him from behind.

“Then please, help me understand the person in front of me…” You muttered, resting your head on his back. Saeyoung didn’t pull away, or even try to. He stood frozen, unable to comprehend what his mind was going through.

“You!” He let out, stunned. His eyes shut, slowly giving in to your affection. “Why are you doing this to me? You’re making this harder than it should. I live a dangerous life, one you don’t need to be involved in. I couldn't even protect my own brother… I have to abandon the person I adore. My life is good for nothing.”

“I’ve been through a bomb and a hacker, it’s a little too late for me to not be involved. I like the you that’s in front of me. Regardless of how complicated anything else is, I want to know you.”  

Saeyoung shook his head, taking a deep breath. “Please, don’t do this. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I… cherish you. I want to make you happy, but I can't! Why do you want to be with me when my life is so dangerous? Why do you… even like me?” He asked, his voice trailing off ever so subtly. You break off the hug, and sit beside him on the edge of the bed. 

“It’s more complicated than that. I can’t give a simple answer. I just like you, Saeyoung.”

“You’re impossible. What are you going to do if something happens to you because of me? What then?”

You gave him a soft smile, before reaching out to grab his hand. He didn’t bother to stop you, or even pull away. “No matter what happens, I won’t regret my feelings for you.” you uttered, now brushing your thumb across his hand. Another sigh, and again he shut his eyes for a moment. 

“I don’t know anymore. You’re so strange. I.. feel like i’m going strange too. No matter what I do… I can't seem to get rid of your feelings for me. Nothing good will happen by being close to me, you know. It’ll be too late to regret it later.” He muttered. You let go of his hand, placing it on his shoulder. You slightly tugged at him to turn. You two faced each other directly. You saw the sadness, the despair, the anguish in his eyes. Up close this time. 

“There’s no way I'll regret being with you, Saeyoung.” you softly replied, gently cupping his face. He stood there, as if he was afraid to touch you. To give into the affection. 

“You shouldn’t say that too easily. Ugh. I always told myself that I wouldn’t ever want to grow close to someone. But you’re making that so… complicated. I- I can’t believe you’re getting to me. Gods, what am I supposed to do now?” He asked, reaching to hold your forearms. You let out a soft breath, before leaning closer to him.

“First, just take some time and think about accepting my feelings. We can figure out the rest from there, alright?.” you answered, tilting your head slightly. You wanted to be his light, especially now.

“Alright… I’ll need some time.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll wait.”

[hecalledme-jagi]

The Ponderings of a Man In Love

I've had this FanLore for Zen strewing in my brain for a little over a year and finally decided to write it out into a one shot!

Enjoy!

What does it mean to experience first love? 

Zen wondered as he watched you doze off beside him to the sound of a movie you both had forgotten about halfway through. He smiled to himself softly, gently brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen over your face, planting a tender kiss on the top of your head. The comforting gesture caused you to snuggle further into his side, cozy and loved. Treasured and wanted.

Zen often thought about the meaning of first love when he was with you. He always felt a pang of guilt over dating other girls before you, even if you weren't bothered by it. He knew you were his yesterday, today, and tomorrow--his dusk and dawn. His moon and stars--leaving him with the fact that you weren't his first, which felt wrong in every way imaginable. So there he sat wondering, and really pondering, what it meant to experience first love. Had he experienced it before? If so, that idea devastated him, leaving his heart aching, poking, splintering, and desperately wanting your comforting. Hoping all his wondering meant nothing. 

He snuggled in close, soaking in your warmth, soothing his self-inflicted wounds, nuzzling your hair, blinking back the sting of tears.

Slowly he doze off to the sound of your steady breathing, calming his anxiety. Slowly learning to bask in the simple pleasures of a quiet evening. 

His breathing steadied, finding rhythm with your own, and in complete unison, your chests rose and fell. 

He found his peace in his small basement apartment.

But absolutely and entirely, he found his peace here with you.

And in his slumber, there came a dream. Or, more accurately, a nearly forgotten memory.

Zen was younger here, much younger than you knew him now. His hair barely reached past his shoulders, fashioned into something of a mullet. His leather jacket just a size too big, but in a year's time, it would fit him perfectly. And he stood in a place filled with familiarity. His secret mountain hideout. The view was the same as it had always been, and somehow, that comforted the young boy, here now, and the man he would come to be. 

The cold evening air nipped at his cheeks and nose, a gentle breeze passing through his hair with the faint smell of cigarette smoke. Following the scent with his eyes and nose, he found a scene this young boy very well knew but was far from the scene his adult counterpart adored. There stood a girl who simply wasn't you.

Ji-an, a younger, much more boyish Hyun, recognized with an air of giddiness coating his thoughts, and in like manner, she was viewed with rose-tinted glasses. 

He admired her long black hair as it gently swayed in the passing breeze, her sharp and unusually dark eyes staring down at the view he found so much comfort in, reflecting nothing of the setting sun or the city lights flickering on one at a time. And her lips turned in a slight frown with a lit cigarette in hand. Ji-an was a girl made entirely of mysterious beauty, and for a long time, Hyun might've considered her the most beautiful girl he'd ever met. She was in the same gang as Zen, that's how they had met. She was older than him, but only slightly, maybe sixteen or seventeen. She was a force to be reconned with, a calm before a storm. Freedom and rebellion. Anger and desperation. Loneliness and devastation. But other than that, she was a total mystery. Hyun never knew more about her than she let him see, and maybe that was part of why he clung to her so helplessly. Or maybe it was because he envied her and how free she seemed to be. Maybe he wanted to live reckless abandoned where he was allowed to be who he wanted to be, the way Ji-an seemed to. Or maybe it was because bad habits always seemed more attractive than good ones at the start.

Ji-an sucked on her cigarette, holding the smoke in her throat until it burned. 

“You know,” she began as she turned to look at Hyun, “I think if we had met before everything hit the fan, I would’ve fallen in love with you for real.”

Hyun watched and admired the rugged elegance she exuded. Marvalling, despite how her words cut him deeply. His heart secretly wondering--when will anyone ever truly love me?

“For one thing, you’re a real looker,” she leaned in and kissed Hyun's lips softly, leaving the faintest taste of cigarette smoke and strawberry lip balm on the tip of his tongue. 

Is that all I'll ever be? A pretty face barely worth loving? Another secret wonder he wouldn't discover until much later.

“You’re not so bad of a guy either,” she reached out, with her free hand and gently played with the fringe that hung over his forehead. “If I wasn’t so damaged, I’d probably be able to appreciate that heart of yours,” she poked his chest playfully and with a tone of self-mockery, sucking another puff of cigarette tar into her lungs. 

“But instead, here I am, giving you cigarettes, beer, and bad memories,” she scoffed. 

Hyun took a step closer to Ji-an, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her. He peered into her face, hoping to read the meaning in her words by seeing her expression more clearly, but there was nothing he could see. Her eyes continued to stare dispassionately at the scenic view, and not for a moment did she meet his searching gaze, nor did she acknowledge his presence at her side. Instead, her brow furrowed, and irritation fizzled in her vacant eyes.

"We shouldn't have met," she said, tossing her cigarette onto the ground and stomping it out under her boots. 

Hyun felt his heart drop.

Ji-an turned on her heels and walked towards her motorcycle.

"W.. wait! Ji-an, where are you going?" He called.

There was no answer except the loud roar of a motorcycle engine starting.

"Ji-an!"

She paused, looking towards Hyun, with more emotion in her eyes than Hyun had ever seen before, "Get out of here. Become something." 

And that was it. 

She rode off, the rumbling of her motorcycle fading the farther she got. And Hyun could only watch, confused, lost, and entirely too alone for a boy his age.

Zen jolted awake, beads of cold sweat running down his back and his heart dropping into his stomach, leaving his chest feeling hollow and unbearably lonely until he heard you.

"Hyun?" you said, coming back into the living room with a glass of water, "Are you okay?"

He looked at you, and the frenzy in his eyes became calm. A deep breath entered his lungs, and it was exhaled smoothly.

And that's when his wondering all made sense. 

Zen realized it then as his hysteria calmed at the mere sight of you. He knew then that perhaps in all possibility, before you came and before he had forgotten what life was like in your absence, he would've considered Ji-an his first love experience. And in some way, maybe she was. Maybe she was his first love, but that thought didn't seem to bother him so much anymore. Because maybe love was more about changing than firsts and lasts. 

(Although, admittedly, he was perfectly enchanted by the idea that you would be his last. You would hold all his ending chapters, and perhaps, that was far more important than keeping all his opening phrases.)

Ji-an encouraged his flaws but neglected his strengths. He knew now that they were bad for each other, beasts ravenously hungry for love and acceptance. In love with their shared self-pity. Wanting each other because of the addictive nature of cigarettes, loving the nicotine clinging to their clothes and mingling in their mouths. Loving the faint taste of strawberries after every kiss that made the bitter taste of tobacco seem pleasant and sweet. But even still, she inspired his drive for freedom.

And you? You came and captivated him.

You nurtured his strengths and loved his flaws, and for that, he loved you, but as his feelings began to grow, he wanted to be better for you. He wanted to change. So maybe, just maybe, it was for the best that you came at this moment in his life. You came at the point in his life when he still had room to grow but was mature enough to treasure you wholeheartedly. Perhaps now was the best time to love you--not to say it was the only time he could love you, nor was it the perfect time, for he knew that if he had met you ten years ago or ten years from now, he'd be ready to love you precisely and honestly--so now as Zen looks at you, finally finding his moment of lost peace, he realizes that all this wondering about "first love" was for not because all that matters is that he loves you.

Zen nods, gently grabbing at your waist and pulling you in. He rests his forehead against your torso, hugging your waist tightly.

 "Never better, honey~"

˚✧₊⁎𝒥𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎⁎⁺˳✧༚

I do not own any characters, all ownership goes to Cheritz. Thanks for reading!

[bluejay-writes]

MysticTober Day 1: A Matter of Time

Prompt: Fav Character / Hourglass

Pairing: Vanderwood / MC

Wordcount: 1897

Summary: Vanderwood saves his neighbor from a burglar. They bond over unexpected topics.

Author's Notes: This is the first fic in my endeavor to write all 31 days of Mystictober 2024! The last time I managed this was my first attempt back in 2021, which also opened with Vanderwood, so.... maybe it's a sign. Song & Tea links after the fic!

You can also read this on Ao3 if that's more your speed!

A Matter of Time

Vanderwood smiled contently as he pushed open the door from the quiet stairwell. Living on only the third floor of a high rise building meant he never had any interminable elevator rides that weren’t for work. Also, it was better than a bunker. He also had never met his neighbors, which he deemed a resounding success. Until tonight. Tonight, there seemed to be some kind of breaking and entering in progress on his neighbor’s unit.

Great. Vanderwood set the grocery bag next to his door, and continued down the hall to his neighbor’s apartment. He didn’t figure they were home, given the brazenness of the burglar, but just in case… As he was thinking that, a loud thump and a muffled cry came from the apartment.

Fuck, misjudged that. Not a random B&E. Vanderwood thought, and rounded the corner through the door to see a woman being held against a wall. Her attacker had one hand over her mouth and the other around her throat.

No weapon? Vanderwood scoffed mentally. This would be easy. He cast his eyes around looking for something to disable the man, and grabbed the first thing he saw that would do the job - he had no idea how much her airway was being constricted, and didn’t want to risk needing a second hit.

I’ll have to replace this later. He thought, then brought the hourglass down against the back of the attacker’s head with a sickening thud and the bright chime of shattering glass.

“Thank you again.” The woman said, while the police were hauling off her attacker. Her voice was hoarse, thready. Bruises were already blooming around her neck.

Vanderwood shook his head. “You shouldn’t be talking. Is there anyone I can call for you?”

She shook her head, looking anywhere but at him.

“Do you want them to call an ambulance for you?”

Her eyes snapped up to his, half-panicked. She opened her mouth as if to answer him, and he gave her a look. She shut her mouth with a snap, and shook her head. Then she pursed her lips.

In for a penny, in for a pound. “Do you want me to drive you to the ER?”

Her face lit up, and she nodded, before looking away, shy.

“It’s fine.” He said, putting a hand tentatively on her knee. “I wouldn’t want to be alone with strangers right now either, but are you certain I’m any less of a stranger to you?”

She gave him a look. It screamed “You saved me, idiot.” He felt like an idiot, to be fair. He should never have gotten involved, but if a murder happened next door, he’d have to move, just to avoid accidental press coverage, and he was not about that. He liked this apartment.

“You’re sure I can’t call anyone? An ex-boyfriend or an estranged parent is probably better than the neighbor you didn’t meet until you were attacked.”

She shook her head again. He felt like she probably would have been the type to babble endlessly if she hadn’t been injured.

“Alright, well.” Vanderwood took a deep breath, and let it out. “I’m Marius. And you are?”

She opened her mouth and then shut it before handing him her ID, which she’d gotten out for the police, before any of her voice had come back.

Vanderwood looked at her name, looked at her, and smiled.

“Madeleine Camellia?” 

She spun her finger to tell him to keep going.

“…Edelweiss Fairfax-Saville? Jesus woman, and I thought Marius Lestat Vanderwood III was bad enough.”

Her eyes widened, and she tried to laugh, but it sounded pained.

“Sorry, sorry.” He chuckled. “I knew better than to make you laugh.” He stood, and held out a hand for her to take. “Come on, Madeline Camellia, let’s go get you looked at.”

She held up her hands and made a squishing motion, and then held up two fingers. He paused and considered what she meant.

“You want me to call you MC?” 

She nodded.

Vanderwood was pretty damn good at charades.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, your form is incomplete, we need you to fill out the Emergency Contact section.” The nurse said, handing the clipboard back to MC. She frowned and looked at Vanderwood, and given her previous quietude on the subject of acquaintances, he took it from her without question and filled in his own information.

Well, guess it’s time to find a new apartment. He thought, bitterly. Better to save a life and have to move than have let her die and still have to move.

The nurse smiled when he handed her the clipboard back, and they went back to waiting for the next available doctor. Vanderwood had been all over the world, and everywhere the emergency room had the same issue: Waiting. He’d have taken her somewhere else if he thought she’d get seen any faster, but no. This was the best choice.

They waited long enough that MC dozed off against his shoulder, and both of them were startled when his phone started ringing in his pocket.

“Your phone ring is Johnny Rivers' Secret Agent Man?!" She croaked and he shook his head.

"My little brother changed his ring tone in my phone." Vanderwood grumbled. "He's a millennial so he never calls unless he absolutely has to, hang on I need to take this." He stood and patted her on the head, walking over to the window so he'd have better reception (and a bit of privacy).

"What is it?" Vanderwood answered. "Where are you?" "Dealing with some fallout from an incident." "Were you part of that attack that was on the news?" Vanderwood grunted. "You're the mysterious savior aren't you?" ". . ." "I knew it! Do you have a girlfriend?! You know we can't have attachments!" "She's just my neighbor, simmer down. I just happened to be getting home when it happened." "Mhm. Sure." “If anyone calls looking for Marius Vanderwood III, vouch for me.” “Marius?! Ok, Mary.” Vanderwood sighed. "Why did you actually call, Zero Seven?" "Rika wants me to invite you to the party next weekend." "I'm not going to your charity auction." "Aw, but V will be there too!" "Not happening. Just because I let you maintain contact doesn't mean I want to be involved. Besides, I have to find a new apartment now. No time for frivolity." "Boo, you're no fun, Vandy." "Don't call me that."

Vanderwood ended the call, and took a few deep, cleansing breaths before heading back over to where MC was waiting.

“Sorry about that, he can be a pest.”

She shook her head, and tipped it sideways as if to ask what the call was about. Vanderwood was getting tired of having to carry the conversation. He never really talked this much.

“He wanted me to come to a party next weekend, but I can’t, I have other obligations. He’ll probably complain to me about it all week, but it won’t change the fact that he waited too long to ask. I’m bad at short notice.”

She smiled wanly, and laid her head back against his shoulder.

“MC, we’re home.” Vanderwood shook her shoulder, having parked the car.

She startled, and then sighed. “Thanks.”

They walked up the stairs to the third floor in silence, and MC looked forlornly at the door. The management company had already had a locksmith out, as well as a cleaning service to clean up the glass. Everything was safe, but he could tell she was still nervous.

“Just thump on the wall if you need anything, I’ll come right over.” Vanderwood said.

MC sighed again. “I know you’re probably tired, but… would you come in for tea? I know, I know, short notice.”

Vanderwood chuckled, but nodded. “Let me change out of my work clothes and I’ll be right over.”

He waited until she was inside with the door shut before heading back to his own. Once alone in his apartment, Vanderwood unloaded his weapons back into the arsenal closet, and switched out of the leather and into an unassuming pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a long-sleeved tee. His biggest relief was that neither the police nor the hospital had noticed that he was carrying. As far as he could tell, neither had MC.

Stocking-footed, he walked back down the hall and knocked on MC’s door. She opened it with a smile, also cozily clad in pajamas, the bandages around her neck the only sign anything strange had even happened.

“I made Dry Desert Lime. It’s a bit odd, so if you hate it don’t drink it, I won’t be offended. I just wanted a comfort tea after a night like tonight. No caffeine, I’m going to have a hard enough time sleeping tonight.”

Vanderwood chuckled, and sat across from her at the tiny kitchen table. “I thought you were supposed to be resting your voice.” He took a sip of the tea and made a small pleased noise. It was sharp and acidic, and dry without being bitter. “Oh, this is lovely.”

“It’ll get enough rest tomorrow.” She said, with a wry smile. “Besides, I think you’ve already done enough talking for both of us, Marius. I’m glad you like the tea.” She was blushing.

A few more quiet sips of tea, and then she sighed.

“Thank you again for saving my life.” She smirked at him. “But did you have to use my Lead Crystal hourglass? That was my favorite one!”

Vanderwood sighed. “I’m sorry, MC. It was a spur of the moment impulse. I’ll replace it.”

She waved him off. “No, no. I’m sure I’ll find another one like it eventually. You already did more than enough.”

This woman was going to be the death of him. She was exactly his type, and she already seemed to understand him. He really was going to have to move. He wasn’t allowed attachments.

There was a knock at the door, but when MC opened it, no one was there, simply a box waiting by her feet. She bent down and picked it up, taking it over to her kitchen table to open it.

She looked at the lovingly hand-packed gift in front of her, a cut lead crystal hourglass exactly like the one she’d had before it was broken, only the sand inside this one was purple instead of blue. With it was a box of the dry desert lime tea. There was no note, and no return address, but it could only have come from one person.

“Silly, why didn’t he just bring it over?” She hadn’t seen him in a few weeks, but then their paths had never crossed before the incident either, so she hadn’t been particularly concerned.

She got up and slipped into her shoes before going over to knock.

A woman opened the door, and took out an earbud. Behind her, boxes were strewn all over the place. “Hi, are you my neighbor? I’m Choi Suyeong, just moved in!” She stuck a hand out to shake in greeting, and MC numbly shook it before shaking some sense back into herself.

“I’m MC, just down the hall. Just wanted to say welcome! Let me know if you need anything.” Suyeong nodded, and MC wandered back to her own apartment, leaning on the door once it shut.

Gone? Already? What if he really was a ‘secret agent man’?

Here's the song that's Vanderwood's phone ring: Secret Agent Man by Johnny Rivers, from 1966!

Here's the tea they're drinking: Numi's Dry Desert Lime

If you're interested in making requests for other prompts this month, hit up my ask box!

[marshmallowprotection]

I was wondering if I could please request some Saeran comfort please. Some health issues have been getting worse and worse to the point that im now on daily prescription painkillers, and since no ones found a cause yet im scared that no one will. or that even if they do it wont have a fix and ill just be stuck with lifelong chronic pain.

"I've got you, my love," his delicate hands never pressured you in the wrong way when you were having a bad day. He helped you adjust a bit so you wouldn't be laying your body on side that was flaring hard. The pillow he plumped up before scooting it under your form was so soft, no different than his hands. "Let's get you off that side, okay? It can't be helping your pain levels to be laying like you are, so let's try a new position to see if that helps."

With tears burning in your eyes, you did your best to nod. Words were too hard for now, choking on the pain was easier than it was to speak up and explain things at length, but he understood. Unlike everyone else, he understood what you meant at a single glance, even if there was something he got wrong, he adjusted, he learned, and he made changes to show that he could read you like an open book once he'd been given the right tools.

Never in your life had you been more grateful of the fact that Saeran was a good listener, and he knew how to spot the smallest changes in your responses to make a difference in your pain levels. You knew the pain you were experiencing was different than the pain he was forced through as a young boy and at Mint Eye, but pain was something he understood intimately.

That ability to empathize and lock onto pain responses made him an expert at taking care of not only himself, but you as well.

You just wished you didn't have to suffer through this pain the first place.

For what it was worth, the small change in position did take away some of the pain you were experiencing, and while you knew that wouldn’t stop the aches and tremors that came in waves, you were relieved that for a brief moment, you could breathe again without fearing your body causing another shock wave to shoot down your spine. 

Even the smallest nudge of your pinky in the wrong direction made the pain return. It didn't make any sense, and the more you felt the pain take control of your body, the more you felt as though you did something to deserve this. Even if that wasn't true, even if you didn't do anything wrong in the first place, even if you didn't deserve this pain, with no explanation to tell you why it was happening, your brain began to make up all kinds of answers that... more often than not led to blaming yourself.

"We'll figure this out," Saeran whispered. His voice drew you away from the pain once more as he gently settled on front of you. His hand cupped your cheek as he pressed his lips against the top of your nose. "I promise we'll find answers to bring you pain relief as soon as we can... but until that day comes, I'll be right here, taking care of you just like you've worked so hard to take care of me in the past."

"S—Saeran..."

"I've got you," he repeated.

You nodded once again, blinking away the thick tears that taunted you against the comfort Saeran gave. You didn't have to force that. You didn't have to force yourself to be okay when you were wit him. You could cry as much as you needed to and he would never make you think it wasn't okay. He was your safe space, and you knew he would always be.

[reifromrfa]

Short fic: Mafia AU | Jumin

I saw this artwork by @ranartinart and got inspired to write something short for my love, Jumin Han ;w; Thank you for your lovely art! :)

Reposted with permission from @ranartinart <3 Check it out here!

Wrote this fic while listening to this playlist ♪( ´θ｀)ノ

Trigger Warning: Violence

Story under the cut! This was purely self-indulgent haha! I feel as though I'm a little rusty with mysme so apologies in advance if it feels ooc ^^;; Enjoy~

★・・・・・・★

His precise steps against the marbled floor echo through the hallway. He isn't in a hurry; in fact, he takes his time, allowing the rage to bubble up inside him. He keeps his expression composed though, his head held high, his cold, steely eyes staring straight ahead, at the door on the end of the hallway.

Men and women bow to him as he passes, all of them avoiding his gaze. Finally, he reaches the door and his men open the door for him. Assistant Kang sees the man kneeling in the middle of the room, a few bruises already visible on his face and arms. She feels no pity for him, especially after he'd attempted to kidnap MC. Though MC was unharmed, Jaehee knows that this man will probably die here tonight. Honestly, he had a far better chance of surviving had he attempted to kill her boss, the mafia king of South Korea. But attacking his wife? His queen?

Jaehee looks at him with disdain as Jumin hands her his coat.

"Good riddance," she thinks to herself, turning on her heel. She makes a small gesture and the guards in the room follow her out, leaving Jumin alone with the man.

Jumin carefully folds his sleeves up, watching the man with cold, calculating eyes. The man glares at him, his hands bound behind his back.

"You motherfucker. You can't keep me here! They're gonna come lookin' for me! And when they do, they're gonna take you down, you bastard! You'll see. You're gonna be fucking sorry!" the man spits out, staring hatefully at Jumin.

Jumin arches a brow, continuing to fold his sleeves on his other arm. His voice is calm, low, as though he's having a casual conversation and not being threatened by this piece of scum. "Oh? I'd like to see them try."

The man becomes angrier, as though Jumin’s calm facade is somehow an insult to him. “Don’t you fucking know who I am, huh? I am—”

“You are irrelevant to me,” Jumin interrupts, crossing his arms as he looks down on the man. His expression darkens as he studies the lowlife who dared to touch his MC. Who dared to even breathe the same air as her. “I do not need to know your name, I do not need to know who you are, what you’re worth. All I need to know is this:

You meant to harm my wife.”

Jumin watches as a small smile appears on the man’s face. His jaw clenches as he holds himself back. Not yet, he tells himself. Not yet.

“Your wife? MC? Yeah, she’s a real beauty. I remember those scared cries she made when I grabbed her. I bet she sounds real good in bed, huh? I bet—”

The man never gets to finish his sentence. Instead, he has a split second to widen his eyes before Jumin’s fist collides with his jaw. The man hears a crack but it’s quickly forgotten as pain shoots up his cheek, his jaw. His head whips harshly to one side and he tastes blood in his mouth.

Jumin grits his teeth and grabs the man by his hair, forcing him to face Jumin again.

“How dare you talk about my wife that way. How dare you even utter her name with that filthy mouth of yours. You have no right to even walk in the places her feet have touched. You have no right to breathe the air she breathes. You have no right at all to LIVE in the world she exists in.”

The man attempts to scowl but it turns into an ugly grimace, his jaw throbbing. “When I get outta here, I’m gonna fuck her and make you watch, you sonovabitch!” He’s about to spit at Jumin Han’s face when Jumin releases his hair and hits him with an uppercut, effectively slamming his teeth together. Jumin steps back and watches as the man chokes on his own spit, violent coughs making his shoulders heave. Blood starts to trickle down the side of his lips, down his chin; to Jumin, that vermin’s blood is like coal that fuels the deep loathing he feels towards said vermin. He wants more, more of the man’s blood to spill until he is on the brink of death.

“What makes you think you’re getting out of here? Do you think that highly of your comrades? Do you think they would come for you…at the risk of becoming my enemy?” Jumin lets out a mirthless chuckle.

“You’re sorely mistaken.

No one is coming to save you.”

“Think of it like this…” Jumin yanks on the man’s hair again, pulling him to his feet. He leans closer. In a low, soft voice, he speaks to the man —like Death’s whisper to a dying soul.

“You’re dead to them. In fact…you’re dead to everyone. There’s not a person who would want to be affiliated with you now. There’s not a single soul who will even speak your name anymore. Because if they do, I will not only obliterate every trace of their existence from the world, I will also ensure that their life becomes a living hell. They will spend every waking moment in a dark cell, suffering, praying they were dead, and every time they close their eyes they will be plagued with nightmares of the pitiful, painful, pathetic life ahead of them.”

The man struggles to remain upright, his hands still bound behind his back as blood starts to soak the front of his shirt. A muscle in Jumin’s jaw twitches as he stares at the hideous expression on the man’s face.

“You asked me if I knew who you are? Yes, I know who you are. I also know where you parents are, your sister and her family, even the bastard son you’re hiding from your employer.” At his words, Jumin sees the man’s face pale. “Here, we place a high value on family. That’s why I sought to learn about your family.”

“If you fucking touch them, I fucking swear I’ll—”

“You’ll…what? Kill me?” Jumin’s eyes flash and his lips curl in a small, taunting smirk. “That’s what you should have done. You should have killed me instead of going after my wife.”

Jumin approaches the man and now, he sees the man take a small step back.

“You’re only fucking cocky ‘coz you’re beating up a defenseless man! You think this is a fair fight?!”

“Fair?” Jumin’s eyebrow arches. “Fair?” He tilts his head ever so slightly, looking at the man in disbelief.

“Why would I stoop to your level and make this fair?”

He takes another step towards the man and the man’s eyes widen as he takes a step back.

“I was born with every advantage…why wouldn’t I use them? To, as you put it, ‘make this fair’? Why? You certainly thought it was fair to take advantage of a woman who’s smaller than you…and now you call me ‘cocky’ for beating you while your hands are bound?”

Jumin closes the gap between them and delivers a swift punch to the man’s solar plexus. The man chokes and gasps for air, wheezing as Jumin throws another punch…and then another.

The man feels his knees buckle as his body topples forward. But before he can even fall, Jumin grabs his shoulders and pushes the man down at the same time raising his knee and driving it further on the same spot.

“Get this through your thick head,” Jumin says vehemently, now letting his anger take over. Gone is his composure, all he can see now is this man stalking his wife, touching her, laughing at her horrified expression, thinking about the terrible things he’d do to MC…all because she’s Jumin’s queen.

“Life will never be fair.” Jumin keeps his grip on the man, not giving him a chance to straighten. He slams his knee against the man’s abdomen and now he can hear the man wheezing hard, his gasps turning raspy, desperate.

“You and I will never be on the same level.”

“P-lea—”

Jumin scowls at the man. He dares try to interrupt Jumin? Jumin takes a slight step back before slamming the man’s face down on his knee.

“Shut up. You don’t even deserve to be talking. I’ll have your tongue cut out…eventually.”

Jumin releases the man and he falls to the ground like a pathetic rag doll. The man is still wheezing, taking in short, quick breaths. Jumin watches him struggle to breathe, a rush of satisfaction filling him as he sees the man’s bloody face, his nose broken, his lip busted, his eyes swollen and drooping.

But still, this will never be enough. There’s never a good enough punishment for someone who has ill intentions towards Jumin Han’s family. Especially his Queen.

Jumin uses the front of his shoe to push the man onto his back. The man’s wide eyes dart to Jumin as he starts to choke on his own blood. But Jumin merely places a foot on his chest and leans forward, putting all his weight on the foot that’s right over the man’s lungs.

“Now…I’ve established that I know you. But…

Do you know who I am?”

Jumin’s steely gaze never leaves the man’s face, his icy expression showing no hints of mercy. In fact, he leans forward more, pressing his foot deeper.

”I am Jumin Han. I am the most powerful man in Asia.

From now on, your life is in MY hands. If you breathe it is because I’m letting you breathe. But don’t worry, I assure you, breathing will be a luxury for you. Like I said before, I was born with every advantage at my fingertips.

I intend to use my power to make your life into something far worse than the hell you’ve imagined.

About your family…I won’t hurt them. Yet. It all depends on whether you cooperate or not. You may think this is a sick, cruel game…I want to assure you yet again that yes, this is my sick, twisted game for simpletons with a death wish.”

The man’s face is turning purple as he desperately opens his mouth to try to get air into his lungs. Jumin just stares at him for a few seconds, watching the red lines creeping into the man’s eyes. Jumin eases his foot over the man’s lungs and he waits until the man intakes a couple of short breaths before pushing against his chest again.

“You’ve made a grave mistake, turning me into your enemy…but now I’ll be more than that. I’ll be the demon that haunts your every move. I’ll be your personal Grim Reaper, collecting blood and instilling fear in you.

Every day.

For the rest of your meaningless existence.”

Jumin lifts his foot from the man’s chest and he gazes down at his work. The man has tears flowing down the sides of his face, bruises and cuts all over his body —at least, the parts that Jumin can see. Jumin is sure the man has a cracked rib or two as well.

To him, this punishment is still nothing compared to the trauma this pathetic idiot instilled in MC. But he’ll have to stop for now; he doesn’t want the man to die that same night. No…Jumin wants him to live a long, miserable life.

Without another word, Jumin heads for the door, where Assistant Kang is already waiting with a towel in her hands. Jumin takes it, wiping away the man’s blood from his hands.

“I want him looked at but make sure he’s bound tightly. Only patch up the wounds that are fatal. Then transfer him to our warehouse, put him in a coffin and make him think he’s going to be buried alive; I trust you’ll oversee this, Assistant Kang?”

“Of course, sir. I’ll send you a recording afterwards.”

“Good. He can stay there for the evening, but make sure to check the CCTVs in the coffin every now and then. I want him to live for a long time. In the morning, move him to a cell and only give him water. No food, no lights, no toilets, no requests. I’ll call you with further instructions tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?”

The guards around Jaehee reply in a rush, the menacing aura Jumin is exuding, scaring even them. Jaehee waves the guards towards the man and they get to work.

“Oh, and Assistant Kang?”

Jaehee turns to her boss, watching him holding the blood-stained towel. She never thought she’d be working for the most powerful man in the continent, but she’s also grateful that she is. There’s no mercy in Jaehee’s heart towards the man who could have taken someone precious from them, and she’s glad her boss can inflict the most damning punishment onto that man.

“Yes, Mr. Han?”

“Make sure that man or anyone affiliated with him will never get anywhere close to my wife. If they do, kill them. I want all our men to know that.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good. I’ll leave this to you, then. Have a pleasant evening, Assistant Kang.”

Jaehee watches him go, as though he didn’t just nearly beat a man to death. But at the end of the day, they’re all just pawns on Jumin’s chessboard.

She pities any fool who dares to take on the king and his queen.

★・・・・・・★

I hope you liked it! Thank you for reading <3 Don't forget to follow @ranartinart too <3

Check out my other Mysme writings here!

Mango Shake/Ko-fi is always very much appreciated (ᵔᴥᵔ)

[serede986]

HOLT CRAP IM ADDICTED TO YOUR WRITTING,good thing requests are open,so I was thinking

Zen x reader Litteraly anything

I'm thirsty for content of this man so bad (tho beware I'm still not done with the game I started playing like what 10 days ago and I have today and tmw the final day so if it's possible no spoilers hihi)

Aren't you the sweetest.. Coming right up, here's your dessert...

~

Zen, you and a home date<3

It's a date for you both, with flowers in the middle of the table for when you're done cooking.

Is adamant on picking you up from your house, he doesn't trust those in public transport peeps.

It's all the things you love to eat and for one day, he's willing to eat everything that your heart loves. You're eating salad the next day though, don't think much about it.

To put cherry on top, he is shirtless with just his apron and shorts. You hug him from behind, peeking at what he's preparing for you. Uff his laugh when you smooch his back.

Shivers and backs away when you circle that soft spot behind his ear. Certainly, he looks so cute when he's red.

You tease him so much, he picks you up and sits you on the counter. You're no more allowed to cook but taste what the great Chef Zen cooks.

Puppy eyes don't work on him, maybe, but when he comes close to you for a taste test, make sure you pull him close by the neck and rub your nose on his'. He'll drop everything for you. Literally.

He takes you to the couch and sets the dishes in front of you with your favorite romantic songs in the background.

Dinner, liquor and love.

he traces small and big hearts on your thighs, while you're resting your head on his shoulder. He's trying very hard not to shiver by your breath and give you any traces of how you've got him so weak.

You're both so drunk, none of you have any idea what you're saying. Stupid plans, kids, compromises to pet allergies, small-cozy little apartment goals, with just you and him. a small world that's yours and his. they're yours to fulfill.

~

Hope you like this~ feel free to ask for a rewrite if it's not up to your expectations:D

[xelasrecords]

The Love We Live For

Kim Jihyun x MC x Han Jumin

Jihyun comes home injured so MC and Jumin fuss over him. MC's love for them is romantic and reciprocated, while Jihyun and Jumin's love is platonic. The idea for this came when I replayed Jihyun's route and realised I couldn't choose between them. I want to feel loved and admire their love. Everything else comes after. I hope this story will make you feel loved too.

Words: 4.3k

Masterlist Read on AO3 Moodboard

The evening saw her and Jumin lounging on Jihyun's couch, her bare feet on Jumin's lap, Jumin's head tipped back against the plush cushion. Her heart was thrumming with anticipation of Jihyun coming home today. It was the kind of yearning that one didn't realise one could have until the object of affection was gone. She welcomed the feeling without objection, for there had always been fondness between the three of them. And if hers developed into something more—equally yet differently—for the two men she always searched for in empty rooms and bustling crowds, it was not something she could control.

"Jumin, this is not the time to be sleeping." She nudged Jumin's side with her toes when his eyelids were drooping.

A few weeks had passed since Jihyun's departure for work, and instead of growing accustomed to his absence, they had grown to miss his presence. So when she asked Jumin to join her in welcoming their beloved friend at his home, Jumin accepted her offer in earnest. No one wanted to miss the opportunity; the right place at the right time couldn't come often enough for three people who lived vastly different lives.

Jumin closed his hand around her ankle, not bothering to open his eyes. It was a wonder that a touch so familiar could still send sparks up her veins. "Allow me to take a quick nap."

She was glad when he didn't move his hand away. "I don't think your best friend would like it when his surprise gift is a sleeping log."

"He doesn't have any expectations from me. He likes me always," Jumin said. "And I would make a sustainable log."

She sunk into the sea of throw pillows and made herself comfortable. "I'd process you into paper immediately."

Jumin peeked at her. "To write a heartfelt love letter proclaiming your feelings for me?"

"To revise your sleeping habits and make a better you." She cracked a grin. She liked how Jumin could flirt with her in a playful manner. He never revealed this side of him when there were others around. Of course, Jihyun was excluded from the grouping. He was not other people to them.

"You only need to turn to Jihyun for that," Jumin said after a moment. "He is the better part of me. His kindness is what makes me who I am. I wouldn't be sitting with you here if he never influenced this acceptance into me."

"Then who are you to him?" The first button of Jumin's white shirt was undone, revealing the slope of his throat that ran down to the base of his collarbones, but she fought to train her eyes on his face.

"His conscience. I think he looks to me as some kind of moral compass. He's always apologetic for the things he hasn't done enough. He doesn't think about what he has done, only what he hasn't. I'd like to believe that I lessen his burden by having faith in him."

"Do you ever wonder if that faith is misplaced?" There was no judgement in her voice, just curiosity. She could never tire of listening to how much Jihyun meant to Jumin. Jumin was at his tenderest when he spoke about his friend, the one soul that he could recognise from afar and would not let go no matter the circumstance.

"It wouldn't be faith if I doubted my belief in him," Jumin stated like it was a fact known to all. "It's how I believe in you too."

"I don't think I look at you like you're my guiding star."

He lifted his head to face her. "Quite the opposite. I believe in you because you possess a good sense independent of anyone's opinion, a sense that sometimes I lose, and you care for Jihyun like no other. That's enough to tell how trustworthy you are."

"I care for Jihyun like I care for you," she said softly. "There's no one I'd rather be here with than you. Your company means more to me than you can imagine."

Jumin smiled at her. "I know."

She was about to reply when they were interrupted by a click at the door. Immediately, she and Jumin rose from the couch, him gently putting her legs away and her shoving the pillows aside to get to her feet.

It was Jihyun. It was Jihyun who trudged in with a camera slung around his neck. It was Jihyun with a face peppered with scratches and bruises and ragged clothes stained with dirt.

She stopped short before him, her initial joy upon seeing him twisted into horror. One glance at Jumin's stricken face confirmed that his feelings mirrored hers, his clamped fists turning white at his sides.

Jihyun was just as astounded to see them. He turned his head away as if to hide the scars on his cheek, but she slowly tilted his jaw back to her, the other hand hovering over a blooming bruise. "What happened?" she breathed out.

Jihyun gave them a rueful smile, eyes darting from her concerned expression to Jumin's terse form. "I didn't know that you two would be here."

"We need to get you to the hospital right away," Jumin said, his tone urgent.

"It's only a light injury, Jumin. No need to call the doctors. I didn't hit my head and there are no open wounds, see?" Jihyun widened his arms. After a quick scan and her experience of tending to his worse wounds, she could tell that he was telling the truth. It relaxed her a bit.

But his comment seemed to shake Jumin out of his shock and shifted his mood into annoyance. "Oh, I have seen light, and this is not light."

"It's deep purple—the bruise, I mean," she commented helpfully.

"Thank you for your observation," Jumin deadpanned. "He should paint his next artwork with that colour."

"Dark violet would be a nice shade to paint with," Jihyun mulled.

Jumin shot him a reprimanding look and helped him shrug off his coat. Slowly, Jumin got Jihyun's arms out of the sleeves, cautious not to let the fabric scrape against the cuts on the skin. No matter how angry Jumin was at him, he would never use aggression to handle him. It was another thing that she liked about Jumin.

Jihyun, however, wasn't exactly likeable at the moment. She was relieved that he didn't need urgent care, but she shared Jumin's displeasure. A nagging suspicion crept up when she noticed the guilt darkening Jihyun's expression.

"Did you do something stupid?" she asked.

"It's in poor fashion to assume he's the perpetrator when he could've been the victim," commented Jumin.

"It wasn't something stupid." Jihyun seemed as innocent as he could be, but she could see through his distractingly angelic face, the battered face that sent a fresh sharp pang to her heart whenever she examined it. "I was trying to take a photograph of a flower growing on a high wall when I slipped."

Jumin dropped the dirty coat that he'd folded and stared at Jihyun. "I take it back. You are an idiot. Did you not check for your safety before you put yourself in a precarious position?"

"He wouldn't be in this state if he did," she muttered.

Jumin bent down to pick up the coat. "You have been very helpful tonight."

"Sarcasm from a handsome brooding man, just how I like it." She winked, trying to make light of the situation. Jihyun had been through worse, so this was fine. This was manageable. There were no serious injuries, so self-treatment would be enough. They could head to the hospital the next day if they really had to. "Now I'm about to be even more helpful. Pretend to be surprised, Jumin."

But it appeared that Jihyun could sense her underlying anxiety. He touched her forearm and offered a reassuring smile while nodding his head once, silently encouraging her to do what she had planned. She pressed her lips into a tight smile and placed a hand on his back, guiding him to the couch. She could feel Jumin's gaze burning the back of her head, but she ignored it. Better for him to be irked than incapacitated with terror.

Jumin sighed and stalked off to another room, presumably in search of the first aid kit. In this house, nothing ever stayed at its original place. Jumin often brought it up as a complaint and had attempted to stage an intervention for it, but she didn't mind if Jihyun did not. She found Jumin fussing about and Jihyun watching him in resignation rather endearing.

Once she cleared the throw pillows from the couch, Jihyun took her hand and brought her down to sit beside him. "I didn't want you and Jumin to know," he said.

"I know."

"I didn't want you to be worried about me."

"I know that too." She took his camera off his neck and placed it on the table. "But we'll worry nonetheless. Partly because you're always up to questionable things but mostly because you're our friend. You can't expect us to be happy all the time when that isn't humanly possible."

Jihyun pushed aside the strands of mint hair that fell over his matching-coloured eyes. "I'm afraid that I'm a burden to you and Jumin."

"Do you think it's a burden to love?" She briefly wondered how it would feel to thread through his hair but quickly banished the thought. This was not the time.

"To love me?"

"For you to love someone," she clarified. "Me. Jumin."

A small, disbelieving laugh slipped past Jihyun. "How could I, when I've known how warm it feels? I feel it when I see you and Jumin, and I feel it from the two of you. It's like the three of us are running on the same wavelength." He met her unwavering gaze. "I would do anything for a chance of your happiness even if it's the most laborious and harmful task, and I wouldn't think of it as a task. It'd be the easiest thing to do in the world because it's not something I'd have to choose. I would just do it."

The edges of her mouth curled into a small smile. "Helping you isn't something we have to choose either. When you love someone, sometimes you've got to let them do a little more work when you can't. Love is not about giving until you break yourself. You need to refill your vessel by receiving love too. We're here with you, so stop driving us away." She arranged a pillow on the couch before sliding to the floor. "Come, lie down. I bet you're tired. You drove on your own, didn't you?"

Jihyun gave her another apologetic smile but obeyed her request without protest. Jumin's footsteps echoed behind her—footsteps that she had become familiar with from the many times they slept over at each other's houses, how he always took long, steady strides like he had a place to be. Jumin swerved his body away from her as he passed by, carrying a large bowl filled with water in one hand and a first aid kit in the other while she shifted to give him space.

He set down the bowl on the table, water swishing inside. "Jihyun, you need to let me call someone to organise your home. Did you know where I found this?" Jumin rattled the first aid kit. "In the cereal cabinet. What on earth was it doing there?"

She craned her neck to look at Jumin. Though his shoulders were slumped from exhaustion, there was still an air of authority about him. "I heard you could use iodine as a replacement for milk. It'd look like blood and tempt the modern vampires from the book you read," she paused, thinking. "But you have to consider its texture. It's not thick enough to be confused with blood."

Jumin looked at her with newfound fascination, his irritation temporarily forgotten. "That's an interesting observation. Iodine smells like iron, so there's a chance that they could be fooled. I must tell Assistant Kang to retrieve some samples and test them out later."

Beside her, Jihyun leaned across to her ear and whispered, "Should we stop him?"

She snorted. "Maybe I could be your test subject, Jumin. Who knows? I might be a vampire, or it might turn me into one."

"Not now, then," Jihyun said under his breath and reclined to his previous position.

Jumin brandished the bottle of iodine from the kit and examined it with utmost curiosity. "According to the book, you'd have to be bitten to be one."

"Please," Jihyun cut in. "I merely wanted to take out the cereal but I forgot and shelved the kit instead."

Jumin deflated with disappointment. "So you were hungry and bleeding?"

"I understand." She raised her hand empathically. "I get that once a month."

"If it helps, I'm still bleeding now," Jihyun offered.

"Right." She arranged herself into a kneel and squeezed out water from the floating cloth in the water bowl.

The water was warm as it dripped down her elbow. She gently rubbed the cloth over Jihyun's face, cleaning it of the dirt that smeared across his jaw. He smelled like it too, she thought as she plucked a twig out of his mint-coloured hair. It might have been a small accident, but how many more small accidents should occur until they amounted to fatal destruction?

When she reached his split lip, she hesitated. Dry blood had crusted around the cut, but fresh blood was pooling again; it must have cracked when he talked. She was regretting how she couldn't be there for him when he lowered her wrist just enough to see her without the cloth obstructing his view. "It's all right, take your time. It doesn't hurt as much as it looks," he encouraged.

It was as if he could read her mind.

She nodded in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. "This may sting a bit," she warned before wiping the blood away. She was conscious of her movement and his breath fanning the back of her hand, the softness of his lips despite the injury. It was the closest she had ever got to it.

She was also aware of Jumin's presence beside her, who had sat on the floor with her to clean the cuts on Jihyun's arms, her shoulder occasionally brushing Jumin's. She could feel his eyes flitting from Jihyun to her when he thought she didn't notice, but was there any chance that she would not? It was almost impossible not to bristle under his intense stare studying her actions and reactions. She bit her lip and tried to concentrate on her duty at hand.

Jihyun cleared his throat. "I know I said that I felt bad for making you two help me earlier, but if I'm being honest, I'm also relieved that I don't have to do this alone." He smiled apologetically at both of them. "Thank you."

Jumin halted his ministration and looked up at Jihyun. "How many times do we have to tell you that you're not alone? Even when we're not here, you can always call us and we'll come in a heartbeat. Or I can call in a house doctor for you if you prefer. You simply need to ask." Jumin stared at the bandage that he just patched on Jihyun's arm. "Or don't ask, but I would do it regardless."

"Asking for help is harder than believing I would receive one," admitted Jihyun. "I know that you would come to my aid. You always have, but letting myself be weak has never been my strong suit."

"If it is reassurance that you need, then I will give it to you: being weak is not wrong," Jumin said, a hard edge in his voice. "What's wrong is putting yourself in dangerous situations for the sake of art. I worry that your pursuit of it is making you self-destructive. Is there no other healthier way to do it?" The gauze in his hand was trembling—from frustration and desperation, she guessed.

Alarmed, Jihyun pushed himself up and leaned towards his friend. "I'm surprised you're in this much distress, Jumin."

She felt compelled to comfort them, but she knew soothing words would not fix anything. The two men, the only men she could love this much, had to come to an agreement themselves. Jihyun always put every other thing before his health and Jumin was always worried about him. No one meant harm, but it did not mean no harm came to them.

Jumin shook his head in disbelief. "How can I not be? She and you are all I have. What if someday you do something so foolishly dangerous that you—"

"No!" Jihyun exclaimed, shocking both of them. "That won't happen." He grasped at Jumin's hand, the gauze falling to the floor. She had never seen such an intense display of emotions between them. "You forget that I love you. You're my best friend and I won't leave you for a temporary thrill. Art may provide me respite, but hurting you would scar me forever. It's not a line that I dare to cross."

"You're famous for blurring the line of death."

"Not this time. I know I'm selfish for this, but when I imagine toeing the line over and over until I've done irreversible damage to you, I shatter inside. I don't think I could live with myself if that happens. It is difficult enough to live with myself as I am."

"Then I would live for you." Jumin's eyes blazed with righteous rage. "What is it that you think I have been doing this whole time? I forgive you so you can find it in you to forgive yourself. I stand by you through everything because I believe you are good when you fail to see why, which is always, but I can't stand it when you promise one thing for my sake and do another behind my back."

"I won't—"

"Don't," Jumin warned, "make another empty promise."

"Jumin, no." Jihyun's tone was pleading. "That was before."

At once, she and Jumin understood what Jihyun meant. For Jumin and Jihyun, there was only before she came into their lives, and after, when everything fell into clear focus. Jihyun turned to her, reaching out to touch her face, and she drew closer instinctively. "The sight of you heartbroken isn't something that I ever want to see." His voice was barely a whisper.

Everyone held still. They never saw her as an intruder to their friendship; she was the missing key that locked their bond together. It felt right to be three, or they would spend their time constantly wondering how the missing one was doing. Jihyun's honesty was a surprise to her though—she didn't think he could have faith in how deep her feelings ran for him, and in turn, did not want to betray her heart because he cared about her just as much. She had thought that treatment was reserved for Jumin.

"It's fine to do the things you're passionate about," she finally said, dimly aware that her fingers had pruned under the wet cloth she was clutching. "You'll fall sometimes. That happens when you hit the ground running. Only don't disregard your safety completely, and rely on us when you need to. That's how you can keep my heart."

A small smile played on Jihyun's lips. "I will try."

She smiled back and turned to Jumin, only to have him already regarding her with such tenderness that made her feel like folding into herself. She knew what he was trying to convey—thank you for looking after my friend, thank you for telling him he's fine the way he is, thank you for loving him. And the most palpable of all, thank you for being here with me.

But she hadn't done anything grand. It was simply a love she couldn't hold back from spilling at the brim. Both Jumin and Jihyun came with their own set of irritabilities, but they were easy to love. Where else could she find a love that stayed up with her because they loved the person she loved, a love that was willing to kneel on the floor with her until their legs went numb because someone she loved was in more pain? It was the kind of love where she didn't have to explain herself because there was nothing to explain, because they would understand her or strive to do so without judgement.

She would not give it up for anything.

Jumin, gentle eyes still on her, switched out the cloth from her hand with an ointment. "How much scrubbing are you trying to do to him? You're flooding the floor." He bent down and used the cloth to wipe the water pooling before her knees, his knuckle skimming her skin, a contact that sent a pleasant shiver through her body.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, silent gratitude for what he had said to Jihyun. There was love in Jumin's words. She could hear it as she could read it in her own actions, as Jihyun could feel it through their care. They loved each other so, so much, and she knew that if they were offered a chance to find a better friend, none of them would have taken it. No one was like the two men, and no one was like her.

Jumin tilted his head up to her and nodded with a smile. With Jumin, it was always the words unsaid that spoke the most volume.

"She could polish me until I'm shiny," suggested Jihyun.

Jumin straightened his back. "That's impossible. You're not a statue."

She shrugged. "He looks like one."

"Oh no, that can't be." Jihyun waved it away. "Jumin is more handsome than me."

She took a swab of the ointment and applied it generously to Jihyun's bruising cheek. "All right, if you're going to be humble, then I'll proudly announce myself as the most beautiful one here."

"While that is true, I didn't say I was going to be modest," Jumin jumped in.

She opened the iodine's cap, the strong biting smell stinging her nose, and dabbed it on the cuts on Jihyun's forehead and chin before covering them with bandages. "But you did agree that I'm the best, so no point in making a point of your handsomeness now."

"She's right, you know," Jihyun said.

Jumin grunted and stood up, apparently done with his help. "Why do you always pick her side over mine?"

Jihyun grinned. "Just following my heart."

She patted his shoulder after she finished applying salve to his split lip. "You're all patched up. Just be careful for the next few days."

"Forever," Jumin corrected.

"You two are incorrigible." Jihyun laughed and shook his head. It was a lilting, melodious sound that she never wanted to lose from memory. "I will be more careful in the future. Please believe me this time."

She and Jumin shared a look. His steady belief in Jihyun did seem to strengthen Jihyun's resolve in himself. She knew the change would not be instantaneous, but the fact that he listened already spoke a lot about his usually obstinate character. How could one affect another so greatly? She saw her wonder reflected in Jumin's expression.

"I'll believe you," she said.

"So will I," said Jumin. "Since we have toiled into the night for you, it would be appropriate to commemorate this moment. May I use your camera?"

Jihyun gestured at him good-naturedly while sitting up. "Go ahead. Just turn the setting to automatic."

She and Jihyun shared knowing looks and suppressed their giggles as they waited for Jumin who was busy tackling the buttons and adjusting the lens. Jumin's eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, occasionally looking through the viewfinder only to alter the settings again. Why he didn't ask Jihyun for help she couldn't fathom. Perhaps he wanted the satisfaction of succeeding in figuring it out alone.

Finally, he looked up with a smirk. "I'm all set. Do get into position now."

"You don't want to be in the picture?" she asked.

"I shall try to be Jihyun tonight. I'm eager to find out why he's willing to put his life on the line for this." Jumin gave Jihyun a pointed stare, which Jihyun returned with a wince.

She chuckled to herself, mesmerised by how easily Jumin could get annoyed by Jihyun's antics, and yet it was impossible to find another love as pure as theirs, and how they welcomed her with open arms. Now that she knew with whom she belonged, everywhere else felt foreign. In this friendship they had, she was not a trespasser and did not have to cross any line; there was never a line to begin with. They accepted her and loved her, as simple as that.

She settled into a relaxed pose, folding her legs into a cross while still sitting on the floor. She placed an elbow on top of Jihyun's knees and looked up at him, her chin in her palm. With a smile, he caressed her hair and placed his hand on her shoulder, angling his body close enough that her head could lay against his chest if she dared to.

Jumin watched them with patience and fondness. They were all happy at this moment—yes, yes, they were. It was almost more important that they could capture this present joy than the scene itself; if only feelings could be frozen and preserved. Was this the reason Jihyun took pictures? At the count of three, they both smiled into the camera and the flash went off.

The result?

It was not even a question worth asking.

Of course it was blurred.

-

Footnotes:

The theme of this story is becoming better because of the people you love. I know Jihyun is the type who can hurt himself even though it hurts his loved ones, but that's when he's at his worst with Rika. I'd like to think that surrounded by the right people, he could be influenced to be better. When I was younger, I thought it was impossible to be deeply changed by anyone and that it'd be a bad thing if we were, but I've learned that it isn't always. We can bring a good impact on others' lives too.

Hardest one to write yet because I'd never written about love this honest and fond before, but I had fun doing it although I wanted to scream whenever I got stuck articulating the feeling. The platonic side was easy, however, since it was my love for my best friend that I poured into Jumin and Jihyun. Sometimes I really do believe that our souls are intertwined—no one can see through me the way she can and vice versa, and I admire her for everything that she is. This is my love letter for her of sorts. I wouldn't be who I am without her.

Now I NEED to talk about the header. I thought it fitting to use paintings that feel intimate and vulnerable, and purposely didn't give MC any physical attributes to be more inclusive (fought the urge to project my characteristics to feel like the main character). MC has a painting of a red rose that stands out among 2 white roses because she brings colour to the twin soul best friends. Jumin has 2 silhouettes watching a lonely shadow go. Jihyun has a close-up of a man with bright brushstrokes looking out forlornly. The background is crimson red to match the intensity of their love. I literally cannot be chill I will think about everything this is how I have fun.

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[comfortmelodies]

Hello!

You can call me fish, I am the one running this blog :3 The purpose: for fun! and to practice my writing skills!!

Requests; Open! (current request count: 2)

Heres the basis of what I can write for you:

Ship fanfic, x reader, & reader, headcannons, nd most likely other things if you just ask :)

I can try to do Slight NSFW, but it’s not my strongest suit. Also, if your request is in that vain please make sure the character(s) are of age, thank you!!

If I’m unable to do your request I will answer to your ask privately, if you think you’ve sent a request and it didn’t send through don’t be scared to send the request again! I will let you know if I got it in that case.

Fandoms I can write for below the cut :D

Fandoms

Red Dead Redemption 1 & 2

Devil’s Candy

Toilet Bound Hanako-Kun

Psychonauts (whole series)

Mob Psycho 100

Hunter X Hunter

Bocchi The Rock

Amphibia

The Owl House

Mystic Messenger

Ouran Highschool Host Club

Homestuck

Thanks for stopping by and reading 💕 Hope you enjoy, and feel free to request!

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[mammonprotectionsquad]

It is currently 2am and this is actually something that happened today. So didn't proof read it because it's just a little rambled something to work through it in a way, I guess. Aka this is pretty much a self insert

The past couple of weeks had already been a whirlwind and stressful to no end. But life really had to one up itself all the time, huh?

You had a rather blank expression when you got home, doing everything on autopilot. And of course it didn't go by unnoticed by your boyfriend. He was used to hearing you announce yourself with a "I'm hooome!" so you being quiet, only accompanied by the door closing before shoes got unceremoniously dropped to the floor was uncharacteristic.

It didn't take long until Vanderwood stood in the doorframe, arms crossed and brows furrowed as he took in your appearance.

"What happened?"

You remained quiet for a moment, still trying to sort out your thoughts. Though at the same time you shuffled closer, until you were able to lean into his chest. His embrace comforting you in a way you hadn't noticed you needed up until that point.

"I told you about the friends group I had a falling out with 3 years ago, because of some shit my ex best friend pulled, right?" Vanderwood hummed on confirmation, so you continued. "Well... It seems that one of them died yesterday. Don't know how or any specifics. I only know because the one person from that group I'm still in contact with made a rest in peace post about him."

"... Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

You let out a long sigh, tilting your head back far enough to be able to look up at him and when he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear, you leaned into the touch.

"If I'm being honest, I don't feel much. He definitely didn't deserve whatever happened, he wasn't a bad guy. I mainly feel bad for his son now, because they were always, really close. Not other than that? I don't know... It's just weird to think he's gone now and also not knowing what happened."

"You weren't in contact for a couple years anymore, so it's not that surprising. Also, no. I know what you're thinking and it doesn't make you a bad person."

"But-"

"No but. It's okay to not be deeply affected by it."

"If you say so..."

For a while the two of you remained standing in the hallway in a comfortable silence. The brunette rubbing soothing circles into your back as you tried to make sense of your scrambled thoughts. Maybe he did have a point. Did you feel bad for him and everyone affected? Of course you did! But that didn't mean you had to cry your eyes out. Especially after distancing yourself so much from those people had significantly helped bettering your mental health again. It was okay to not be overly sad.

"Doing better now?"

"Hmm... Thanks for always listening to my bullshit."

Instead of getting an answer, you got hoisted up over his shoulder, followed by a pinch to your thigh, which made you yelp in surprise.

"Hey! What was that for now?"

"You know what that was for."

The usual playful bickering between you two helped ease the remaining tension out of your body and while you got carried into the kitchen, you couldn't help but think once again just how lucky you were to have that man in your life.

[erimeows]

Don't Tell

Jaehee Kang finds herself frustrated as she lies on her couch, in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. The house is quiet, minus the occasional gust of wind that echoes outside of her house. Her phone lies on the coffee table, buzzing- probably notifications from the RFA chatroom, but she can’t bring herself to check them right now.

She’s coming off of a terrible fight with you. You, her best friend. You, the person who helped her start her coffee shop. You, the only other person who works at the shop every hour it’s open during the day.

And, you, the person she’s had a crush on since the two of you met. 

You and Zen are getting closer. Anyone would be a fool not to notice it. You and Zen got along from the moment you joined the RFA, but lately, Jaehee can’t help but notice how you rush out of work to go hang out with Zen more than you used to, how you constantly address him in the chatrooms, how often you or the actor send selfies of the two of you hanging out together… And Jaehee sees him often, too. In fact, Zen is one of her closest friends aside from you. 

Jaehee knows that she isn’t in love with him. 

Sadly, she has no guarantee about your feelings.

So, whenever the subject comes up, Jaehee strongly discourages Zen from dating anyone- especially you- using whatever excuse she can come up with. Dating is bad for Zen’s career. Dating Zen would make him lose his fans. Dating Zen would make paparazzi and journalists target you for tabloid stories constantly. It would be a lose-lose situation.

But really, she would be the only one losing out. Zen would be happy, you would be happy, and his true fans would be loving and supportive of his new relationship. You’re great people who deserve each other… Jaehee just wants to be selfish with you, though. 

Every time she notices you and Zen getting a little too close, she interjects, and there seems to be no real consequences for it. Zen says he’d love to date but that he sees you as a friend, you say that you don’t have feelings for Zen, and the chat moves on.

This time, things went down differently.

You lost your mind, flipping out on Jaehee, telling her that your romantic feelings are none of her business. Telling her that Zen can date whoever he wants. And then, you told her to give you space and left the chat.

To Jaehee, your over the top reaction confirms your romantic feelings for Zen. So, she lies on her couch and ignores the messages that leave her phone incessantly vibrating on the coffee table- at least until there’s a knock on the door.

Jaehee quickly wipes her tears from her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater and goes to the front door. Upon peeking out the blinds of her living room window and seeing that it’s Zen with two paper bags of bungeoppang in hand, she opens it.

“Look, Jaehee,” Zen starts, a little awkward. He’s wearing a leather jacket and a grey t-shirt with ripped skinny jeans and sneakers. Jaehee notices his motorcycle parked in his driveway as he holds out one of the bagged fish buns to him. She assumes he must have picked it up on the stand by his house on the way to her’s. “I think we should talk.”

“Oh?” Jaehee hums, as if she’s oblivious to what Zen is wanting to discuss, because she can’t stand to be the first to bring up her exchange with you. She allows Zen inside and shuts and locks the door behind them. “What’s going on, Zen?”

“It’s about… The dating thing,” Zen answers as he sits down on the end of Jaehee’s couch and flicks the end table lamp on to shroud the room in warm light. Jaehee flushes with embarrassment upon realizing that he must have noticed she was just sitting in the dark before his arrival. “You know how you’ve been telling (y/n) not to date me because of my career?”

“Yes? I apologize, Zen. I don’t want to meddle in your personal life- I’m just worried about your career,” Jaehee explains, putting up a front for a moment. But then, she remembers… Zen is the only other person that knows about her feelings for you. He is a good friend, after all, so she confides in him about it often. “And, well… Perhaps this is selfish of me, but you’re aware of my feelings for (y/n). But of course, you two deserve to be happy and-”

“No, no, this isn’t about me. In fact, the only reason I’m talking to you about this is because I’m worried that, uh,” Zen clears his throat as Jaehee sits down on the couch next to him. He pauses, takes a bite of his fish bun, and uses his spare hand to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck. “You may be giving (y/n) the wrong impression?”

Jaehee blinks and sets her own bagged bungeoppang down on the coffee table. With how angry you seemed at her in the chatroom, she can’t even consider eating tonight. Her stomach is churning far too much.

“What do you mean?”

“They totally think you’re in love with me.”

Jaehee blinks again.

“I’m sorry?”

“They think that you’re in love with me and jealous of them for spending time with me, and that’s why you keep telling them to avoid me,” Zen explains between bites of his snack. “I guess (y/n) and Seven had talked about it after you guys had that fight or something.”

Jaehee leans forward and holds her head in her hands.

The situation is even worse than Jaehee thought.

You think… That she’s in love with Zen.

Fuck.

“Oh dear…”

“So?” Zen questions. “What are you gonna do?”

“I have no idea,” Jaehee answers as she sits straight up and stares at the wall.

“What?” Zen demands, shocked. “You mean you’re not gonna tell (y/n) the truth?”

“I assumed they knew that I only saw you as a good friend.”

“Well, it’s not like you run around screaming it from the rooftops,” Zen shrugs.

“Does that mean I have to tell them the truth?”

“Not necessarily, but you probably should.”

Jaehee shakes her head. She’s potentially ruined your friendship by rejecting her unrequited (?) feelings onto you and Zen- the last thing she needs to do is go and dump a love confession onto you, too.

“Hm… Maybe not.”

~

Shortly after, Zen finishes his visit with Jaehee and goes to your apartment next.

If he can’t get Jaehee to confess to you, he’ll just get you to confess to Jaehee. The idea is perfect! The two of you will finally stop arguing about his love life (which neither of you know anything about), he’ll stop having to hear one of you in each ear venting to him about how your feelings aren’t reciprocated (they are), and most importantly, his two best friends will be happy and mutually in love.

But, when he arrives at your apartment to see that you’ve also been crying and sitting in the dark, he realizes that he’s bitten off more than he can chew.

Especially when he finds himself sitting on your couch and having the same discussion with you that he had with Jaehee- except, somehow, worse, because you’re far more stubborn and far less receptive to his advice than Jaehee is.

“(y/n), come on now, Jaehee being in love with me is just ridiculous,” Zen argues as he throws his hands up in frustration.

You sit on your living room couch with your arms crossed over your chest and a pouty look on your face.

“Is it really?”

“Yes?” Zen responds, flabbergasted by your insistence that Jaehee is in love with him and only argues that he shouldn’t date so that she can keep him to herself. “Her and I are only friends.”

“Just because you see her as a friend doesn’t mean she sees you in the same light, Zen,” You argue, and finally, something in Zen breaks.

On a normal night, he would never betray Jaehee’s trust by telling you about her feelings, but he’s so tired of watching the two of you pine after each other that he just can’t help it.

So, he comes out with it.

“Okay, I didn’t really want to do this, but both of you have put me in a terrible spot and I think if I have to hear either of you vent to me about the other not liking you one more time, I’m going to develop wrinkles from the stress,” Zen exclaims. “I’m dating Jumin, so I’m not on the market! Okay? Okay. And, if, in some weird alternate universe, she did like me, it wouldn’t be reciprocated. And finally, she’s very, very in love with you! You guys are literally like one of those Hallmark movies- coffee shop and all!”

You blink your pretty (e/c) eyes and uncross your arms. Your frustrated expression turns to one of complete shock.

“Wait… You’re dating Jumin?”

Zen groans and throws his hands up in frustration.

“That’s what you’re worried about out of everything I just told you!?” 

“Oh, right,” You pause, and then, a big, bright smile takes over your face. “Jaehee’s in love with me?”

“Yes!”

“Well, she’s not very good at making it obvious,” You chuckle.

“Don’t tell her I told you or she’ll never come to my shows again,” Zen says, covering his face with his hands.

He almost regrets confessing the truth to you. Hopefully you won’t go and rat him out to Jaehee…

“Yeah, don’t worry,” You grin, dismissing his concerns. “I won’t.”

“So, are you gonna tell her?” Zen asks.

You offer a shrug and a smirk in return.

“Yeah, I’ll figure it out.

Zen lets out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank God.”

~

Much to your surprise, despite the argument in the chatroom yesterday evening, you do gather the courage to go to open the coffee shop. Jaehee meets you an hour after opening, and the two of you get through the rush of customers grabbing their pre-work coffees whilst hardly speaking to each other.

It’s a little awkward. You can tell she wants to apologize and that she has something to say, but every time one of you tries to speak to each other throughout the day, you get interrupted by a new customer coming in wanting a baked good or a soothing drink. By the time closing rolls around, the shop calms down. You write a note, take it to the lounge, and stick it in her cubby.

‘I know there’s been a lot going on between us lately, especially after that chatroom the other night, but I’d like to make it up to you tonight and clear the air. I love you and I need you to know that- and I know I was mad but it was just a misunderstanding, and I get it now. Please, let’s meet after work and go grab dinner.’

You smile and turn to walk back to the shop to start the closing process, totally unaware that the note unsticks from where you posted it and falls onto the lounge floor. Minutes later, Jaehee goes into the lounge to grab a pen so she can take inventory, only to come out with the note in hand. You beam upon seeing her with it, only for your face to fall seconds later when you see that Jaehee looks upset.

Was Zen wrong? Does she not love you after all?

“(y/n)... I want you to be happy. If your happiness is being with Zen, then I give you my blessing,” Jaehee murmurs and pushes the note towards you. “I know this is for Zen, so… Please take it and give it to him. It must’ve fallen from your purse.”

At that, you blank- both overwhelmed by how sweet Jaehee is being, and pissed off at just how wrong she is.

“...Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry?”

“He was right? He was right,” You raise your voice and facepalm. “God, he must be so annoyed with us!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jaehee, this note was for you. I stuck it in your work cubby- it must have fell off or something. I’m an idiot for not signing it,” You raise your voice since there’s no customers in the shop. You’re angry at yourself, angry at Jaehee, and angry that the two of you could’ve been dating this entire fucking time. But, you manage to calm yourself down enough to lower your volume and explain your feelings to your partner. “I don’t have feelings for Zen. I’ve never had feelings for Zen, and I never will. He really is just a good friend.”

“...Oh,” At first, the soft sunkissed color from Jaehee’s face drains. Then, it’s replaced with a deep, rosy pink. You can see the facts sink in; the realization that flashes across her golden eyes, the blush on her cheeks, the slight quiver in her lip as she struggles to gather the right words to say to you. “Now I’m… Rather embarrassed.”

“I’m really embarrassed,” You respond with a nervous laugh.

“I do love you. I mean, I’m in love with you,” Jaehee rushes to reassure you. Her face is bright red- even redder than when she watches some of Zen’s racier performances, even redder than when the shop is going through its morning rush and the two of you are working hard to keep up with the customer’s demands. “Though I assume Zen informed you of that fact?”

“He told me not to tell you, but uh, yeah, he did. Regardless, that’s not what’s important, because him telling me the truth is the only reason I have the courage to do this,” You gently pull the note from Jaehee’s hands, toss it into the trash, and walk back to her so you can intertwine her fingers with your own. Then, you slowly lean forward and press a gentle kiss against Jaehee’s lips. The flavor of coffee and chocolate mixed together stays on your lips as you pull back and offer her a small smile. “So don’t be too mad at him.”

At that, Jaehee flashes her bright, beautiful smile back at you and reaches forward to fix the collar of your shirt.

“I suppose I could never stay mad at him for too long anyway, but… Would you still be interested in dinner after we close up shop?”

You laugh.

“Only if you let me treat you to something nice for once.”

Jaehee nods, and with that, the two of you get to work closing down the coffee shop, your first kiss still lingering in the back of your mind.

[onlinekitsune]

LET ME IN: SAEYOUNG CHOI

"struggling, but even if you sink, it's fine"

PAIRING, GENRE, WARNINGS ─ saeyoung choi x gnc!reader, so much angst, so much emotional pain and torment?, no warnings really but there's a part he snaps at you if that's something, not proofread

SYNOPSIS ─ after seven leaves the chat, you're reminded that this isn't some sort of dramatic drama. everything you've been told the past few days instantly started falling apart in a matter of a day. the person, you had fallen for, had fell apart in a matter of a day. all you wanted was to see him shine again.

WRITER’S NOTE ─ hi beloveds... i am once again posting after disappearing again. whoops! but to be honest, my interests have succumed to kpop and less of otome games... but exo's new single inspired me to write this soooo... this is inspired by day 6?? of seven's route, i'm not sure?? some of the dialogue was directly taken by it as well btw i will write a comfort side to this, but i'm nervous of not having enough room so... it'll be up eventually. as always thank you for reading, ily!!

all dividers by cafekitsune

The apartment was silent, for the most part. Except the various clicks of the keyboard from Seven. You looked down at your phone. It was still displaying the previous conversation, it was hard to process that you were even part of it. All the things you’ve been told over the past few days felt so very complicated now. The party. V. This hacker. It was all feeling so muddled with each passing second. Your eyes floated towards the window. The evidence of it being smashed in was long gone. It was like it never even happened. But the hacker’s voice and the feeling of his arms around your body still lingered. You were just lucky that Seven arrived at such a convenient moment. A sigh escaped his lips, hovering over the air. You couldn’t begin to imagine how he felt. You didn’t know how you’d even feel knowing that the hacker you were chasing turned out to be your own brother. Your heart ached seeing him so distressed, it was the very opposite of the Seven you knew in the chatroom. 

“God Seven, God Seven! I sense that you are depressed, meow! I automatically turn on when I sense that you are depressed, meow!” A robotic voice called out. “The source of God Seven’s depression is bad service, meow! I analyzed, meow!” A robotic white cat carefully stepped its way towards him. It stopped right in front and even turned its head slightly as if it was waiting for something. Seven’s eyes peered from above his laptop. 

“Please.” he began to mutter. “Just be quiet.” He turned his attention back to his screen and instantly picked up his typing. His fingers hit the keyboard a little rougher, trying to fall back in his almost tranced state.

“Cheer up, meow! Meowy doesn’t lose service, meow!”

“I said to shut it.” he snapped, furrowing at the small cat robot. “How did I turn you off before?” Seven carelessly picked it up, quickly scanning over it.

“Meowy needs to hear Seven meow!” The robot replied in a pur. You nervously bit the bottom of your lip. You noticed the look of desperation and frustration only doubled with each passing second. 

“Oh, that robot… you made it.” You let out, in hopes of de-escalating the situation. Seven took a quick glance up at you. He made sure his gaze didn’t linger for too long but enough to acknowledge you. Another sigh fell from him. He sat the robot down in front of him.

“Doesn’t matter.” He replied. His voice was sharp and restrained from much emotion. Your heart sank into your chest, hearing how cold he could come across. “Meowy, go away. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I can’t leave until I sense your depression is gone, meow!” It cheered back innocently. Seven’s scowl instantly appeared on his face. He stared bullets into the robot. It was only a matter of minutes until Seven would completely lose his temper and take it out on it. You couldn’t let him destroy one of his creations, especially one that seemed so intricate. 

“Hey… Meowy. Let’s just stay quiet for now, okay?” You whispered, giving a weak smile. It luckily obeyed your request without hesitation. The robot waddled back into the place it originally was at.  A small sigh of relief fell through. You were glad you could get at least one thing in control for him. Seven muttered in response, going back to his laptop. You let the sound of the keyboard fill the air for a bit. You managed the courage to scoot closer towards Seven, who paid no attention. You slightly leaned over the edge of the bed. “Hey, Seven? Things didn’t go so great… with V. Are you okay?”

He looked up from what he was doing, scratching the edge of his temple. “Don’t worry about me.” He paused, seemingly going over his words in his head. “Just… don’t trust V, okay? I know I told you that you could but… you can’t.” Another silence filled the room, with a quick sound of keys pressing. Seven leaned back from his laptop and crossed his arms. "I don’t even think you should be involved with the RFA anymore. I’m sure V only logged in because Jumin told him I was here… He’s obviously worried about me being here. The alarms would only set off if someone like you were to open the drawers. But I’m not… There’s obviously something here he’s hiding.”

You winced just a bit, noticing how hurt Seven was by all of this. It was hard to see someone who was seeming so bright and full of energy be so dull and damper. 

“Are you going to open them?” You posed, fidgeting with your sleeve. All these secrets swirled around in your head. They may have gotten the better of you. But, you couldn’t help but to be curious. You just wanted things to be figured out, to be normal again. The normal you quickly became accustomed to. You missed the silly night conversations with all the members, especially Seven. You would do whatever to see him happy again. 

“Maybe I will. I don’t know.” He responded. Seven closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “It’s hard to keep myself contained, after my trust has completely shattered.” You went to move even closer to him, but he added more distance between you two. You paused in your place, furrowing your brows slightly. 

“Seven..” you sighed. “Is there really nothing I can do to help you?”

He shook his head, taking another deep sigh. “No, I shouldn’t worry you. I’ll figure out a way to take care of it.”

 “Seven-“

“Look, just forget about the RFA. Forget about the party. You’re only staying in danger by getting involved with all of this. Once I get this resolved… Please leave.” He urged, pulling his laptop closer towards him. The furrow on your face grew in intensity. Even imagining dropping everything you’ve done the past few days was enough to send your aches throughout your body. You had grown so close to everyone. For once, you even felt like you belonged somewhere.

“Why are you trying to decide this for me?” You called out. You understood he was worried for you. But, there was something that kept you wanting to stay. You wanted to see this to its end. You held onto your sweater sleeves tightly, trying to contain your composure. 

“I know more than you do. Especially when it comes to this. This isn’t for someone like you to be involved in. You’ll only end up hurt.” He replied. “Let’s stop talking about this. If you need to know anything I’ll just reply to you in the messenger. Don’t bother me.”

“Seven. You’re being so one-sided, what about-”

“Didn’t I just tell you not to bother me? I don’t care.” He snapped, darting at you. Your breath got stuck in your chest. You didn’t picture Seven ever snapping at you, or anyone really. “You’ve been living with a bomb this entire time, and all you’re worried about is nonchalant stuff… really? At a time like this? Don't you care you’re in danger because of this? What kind of person replies to a sketchy unknown number anyways… don’t you know anything?”

His words pierced through you, and all you could do was to stare straight down. He didn’t know. As much as he thought he knew you, he didn’t. Or perhaps he forgot. You weren’t sure what he was able to find on you. “A person who has nothing to lose… clearly.” you managed to reply. Your lips quivered with every syllable. You felt your throat burn as you held in your emotions. “Did all those times in the messenger… really mean nothing?” The barrier you’ve put up started to waver and crack.

“No. They didn’t. How can you worry about that now? I don’t understand you.”

You didn’t believe him. You couldn’t believe him. Though those messages were just silly messages in a chatroom, they meant something. And not just to you. Your grip tightened, feeling the tears finally stray from your eyes. You were annoyed that you couldn’t hold them back. “I know you’re worried about me Seven. So, please stop avoiding me…”

You went out to reach for him instinctively. He dodged your hand and swept up his laptop. Even if it wasn’t a good idea, you couldn’t help but to feel hurt. You stood a bit across from him, just staring. 

“Stop... after this is done, you’re not going to see me again. Don’t waste your emotions on someone like me.” he muttered. You couldn’t help but to look up at him. Your eyes easily glazed over seeing that he was completely avoiding you now. The moment felt like as if you two had been frozen in place. He took a second to pause, laptop in hand. Before taking a final glance at you before stepping past. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m going to work in the hallway, don’t bother coming after me. Sort your emotions.” He added and without a single word, the door closed. You turned to face it. Its barren face taunted you, knowing that he wouldn't be coming back in. You flung yourself back onto the bed, faltering back to the tears. Your body felt heavy as you let your emotions run through. Slowly but surely allowing them to guide you to sleep.

[astridthevalkyrie]

I would 1000% be down to date Tara, but alas... I also think its incredibly funny how down bad all the interests feel, it was certainly something replying to a Tweet and seeing affection go up, they are not normal, but thats not necessarily a bad thing, it certainly is How It Is with these things, adjklnadlkjn-

y'know what's funny, i usually do not get super into things that are romance centered. occasionally i'll have little hyperfixations on something like titanic 1997 or descendants of the sun but on the whole the stuff that i brainrot on heavily is usually some action/adventure with a little romance sprinkled in. and then through fanfic i'll lean heavily into the romance part lol.

and then i played mysme and i was like. holy crap. do i like this? do i enjoy the romance genre? i had jumin han brainrot for at least half a year before i watched my hero (sidenote getting into a new brainrot actually feels like cheating on my last one). and i tried playing obey me and wasn't into it, but love and deepspace has sucked me in so so deeply even though i think if someone was selling it to me like "these three guys love the mc so much they act like they absolutely can't live without her despite this being the literal first arc of the story" i don't think i'd be interested.

but man have they done it so well. they have animated and created the personalities for these men so incredibly well. whenever i'm selfshipping or thinking about x reader stuff or whatever, i never brainrot on more than one character aside from like maybe reading smut about them. like i could read the occasional zen oneshot but jumin had my heart completely and forever and there was no competition. erwin or dabi thirsts or even fluff/angst stuff is totally okay but i was not investing time in anyone but levi. but now i genuinely can't decide between these three. they're all too perfect and they all hit a certain archetype of fictional man that i go insane for. i'm in hell and nirvana and rafayel is my male primadonna.

[bluejay-writes]

Mystictober 2023: Day 7 - Voice like an Angel

You can read/collect this fic on Ao3 if that’s more your speed!

Rating: Teen (Swears, Sex References)

Prompt: Festival / Music

Characters: Zen, Jaehee, GN!OC = Garrett.

Wordcount: 2268

Summary: Garrett hasn't seen Jaehee since they quit school to pursue music. One fateful day at a festival, Jaehee hooks Garrett up with Zen. For music reasons and only music reasons.

Author's Notes: This fic was written for Mystictober 2023, Day 7.  I really love how this turned out, and even I'm curious about what's going to happen with Garrett and Zen down the line. Certainly whatever it is, Jaehee will have all the gossip.

Also, I know that the fact that there's no relationships in this means that the vast majority of people won't read it. And I'm actually okay with that. But sometimes a story calls for an aro they/them OC, and not following the muse on that one is like tearing my own heart out.

Garrett was nervous.  They weren’t usually nervous, not for concerts, not anymore.  But it had been a long time since their little band had performed on a big festival stage. And by a long time, they meant like a decade.  They’d been 16 and fearless the last time, and while it had gone fine, they hadn’t been invited back the next year, so who knew how “fine” it had actually been.

This year’s festival was sponsored by C&R International, and while their sponsorship was a surprise, it seemed that one of the C&R Directors was actually running the festival this time.  Things seemed to be going well. Ticket sales were up, food stalls weren’t murdering the merch sales with impossibly high water prices because C&R was just handing out water bottles for free. 

What that actually meant for Garrett was that they actually knew the person in charge of the stage they were playing on, and that - that - was what had them nervous.  C&R’s Stage Liaison for the Cyclone stage was none other than Jaehee Kang herself.  Garrett knew Jaehee from Cram School.  Okay, from the cram school they’d dropped out of to pursue being a musician full time.  And yes, that had worked out.  Backing vocals and bass guitar in a band that opened for multiple sold out tours internationally was no joke.  And sure, they could be lead vocals. Or in a band that headlined those tours. But they refused to downplay their own achievement by wishing for more.

Jaehee had, however, known them by their dead name. And certainly their visual presentation was no longer the demure girl with long black braids and braces, but an undercut mohawk and androgynous presentation wouldn’t stop the notoriously observant Jaehee from figuring out who they were immediately.  None of the band had called them by their dead name in at least five years. But the minute the media caught wind of it, they were likely to be haunted by it again approximately forever but at least a few months.

“Oh my god, Garrett, just calm down.” J.T. said, laughing at them. “Your crush will remember you, I promise.”

Of course J.T. would tease them for that.  When they’d tried to explain why they were nervous the other day, the entire band remembered how much time they used to spend studying at the library with Jaehee, and how worried they were about what the girl would think when they quit cram school.  In the end, Jaehee hadn’t said anything, just nodded at them and went back to studying.  If Garrett had been crushing on Jaehee, those hopes were, well, crushed.

“It’s not like that, J.T. God.” Garrett said, rolling their eyes as they set their bass case down, leaning it against the stage.

“Garrett!” A feminine voice called out to them, and they turned to look.  Wait a minute.

“Jaehee?”  They asked, uncertain if this glasses-wearing pixie-cut business suit was the girl they used to know, or if it was wishful thinking.

“Obviously.” She pushed her glasses up as she came to a stop just outside the circle of band members. “I thought that was you!” 

“Oh. H-hey.” They said, stuttering awkwardly. They weren’t the most social person to start with, but seeing someone they hadn’t seen in a decade was… an entirely different situation.

“I am rather excited to see your show. I arranged for you to be on my stage - there was a bit of a battle between stage liaisons over your band, but honestly, all I had to do was state a preference and they weren’t even competiton.”

“What do you mean?” Garrett said, confused. “I mean, I did wonder how we managed to score the second largest stage in the entire festival, but…”

“Oh, well, being the executive assistant to the director in charge of the festival has its perks.” Jaehee said, and Garrett was sure if she had longer hair, she’d have flipped it over her shoulder.

“Sweet, Thanks for pulling for us, Miss Jaehee!” Arabella, their lead vocalist, practically yelled. “We’ve been hoping to play this festival again, and it finally didn’t conflict with a tour, and then here you are getting us prime real estate like a goddess.  Garrett, dude, you totally owe her a date.”

Jaehee glanced at Garrett with a blush on her cheeks, and they spoke in almost perfect unison.

“I don’t date.”

“Absolutely out of the question.”

They shared a look, and J.T. just cackled.

“Aaanyway.” Garrett said, deciding to fix one awkward topic with another. “Jaehee, as much as I hate to say this, I really expected you to dead name me.  How did you…?” They trailed off, wishing they’d figured out the end of that sentence before they started talking.

“How did I know your use name?  Come on, Garrett.  Do you really think the girl you studied with for all of those endless hours wouldn’t keep track of you after you ditched me? I’ve got all of your records. And no, I don’t just mean albums. I even have your first pressing.”

“Wait, you what?” J.T. was staring at her deadpan, and Garrett could feel themself blushing.

“Yes, of course the one with glitter in it.” Jaehee said, pushing her glasses up in a way that made them flash in the light. “I’m a professional fan, you know. When I’m a fan, I’m committed.  There’s only one other artist I feel this strongly about, you know.”

“Oh?” Garrett said, trying desperately to deflect the conversation before Ara asked if Jaehee had the one with Garrett’s naked silhouette on the cover. “And who would that be?”

Jaehee’s face flushed instantly. “Zen.” She said, in a way that made Garrett instantly envious of the man.

“Isn’t he that musical actor who’s been recording musical covers on MeTube in his spare time?” J.T. asked, confused.

“The very same.” Jaehee said. “He’s truly one of the masters of our age.”

Garrett didn’t know who that was, but they knew they were going to look into him just to see what Jaehee liked that wasn’t, well, them.  Then, Ara giggled, and Garrett knew they needed to change the subject quick before their frontwoman offended their staff contact.

“Sorry to derail.  We’ve got all of our gear here, and we’re playing…”

The set had been long, and it was summer. Garrett felt like they were dripping in sweat, probably because they were.  It didn’t take long to pack up their bass, and then they were leaning against the back of the stage again, almost as though they existed in two places. On the stage and off of it, ne’er the twain shall meet. Like a video game NPC.

They were relishing in the shade that the stage itself cast when Jaehee’s voice echoed from around the corner.

“I don’t know, they’re probably exhausted, Z—Hyun.”

“But you promised! And she’s perfect, Jaehee.”

“They.” Jaehee said, a sharp correction. “And I don’t know, it’s an abuse of power to…”

“Just ask them.” he said, pleading. “I will take no for an answer. You know I will. I’m not Echo Girl.”

“Fine. But if they stop talking to me over this I will take it as a personal slight, Hyun.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Garrett pretended to be looking at their phone when Jaehee rounded the corner.  If they’d thought that Jaehee was talking about anyone else, the pronoun correction disabused them of that notion really quickly.

“Garrett?”

They looked up. Jaehee looked nervous, and surprised to see them back here already. “I… uh… I have a friend that really wants to meet you. He’s…”

Garrett simply raised an eyebrow and the woman caved immediately.

“He’s a good friend of mine, I promise. He wants to ask you something, and I don’t know how to say no to the man, would you be willing to…”

“Of course, Jaehee.” Garrett said, chuckling. “I don’t mind talking to a fan, especially one you’ve vouched for. J.T. and Arabella will still be a minute, bring him back here.”

Jaehee relaxed like a marionette whose strings had been cut, and turned to leave. “He’s just over here, I’ll be right back.”

Garrett tried not to listen in when Jaehee told the man he could come talk to them, but they were just so good at eavesdropping on conversations at this point, they didn’t know how to not.

“They invited you back, Hyun.”

“They WHAT?!” 

“Don’t embarrass me.”

“Me, Zen, embarrass you?”

“I thought we weren’t using your stage name at this festival?”

“Shit. Right. I. Uh. Forget you heard that.”

“Anyway.” Garrett could practically hear Jaehee roll her eyes. “Come on, let’s not keep them waiting. You should have a few minutes to chat with them alone before their band mates finish packing up.”

“A-alone?” The man stuttered, and Garrett smirked, an expression that was still on their face when Jaehee rounded the corner with an incredibly attractive man with piercing red eyes.

“Garrett, this is Hyun. Hyun, this is the bassist you’re so enamored with. You two chat, I have to go make sure the crowd clears a bit so we can pack you out and the next act in.” Having said her piece, Jaehee turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the two of them facing one another.

Garrett, for their part, smirked. “Enamored with?”

Hyun just blushed and shrugged. “She calls it like she sees it.”

“Well, sweet cheeks, don’t get your hopes up, I don’t date.” Garrett said, and he waved his hands as if to wipe away the suggestion.

“No, no. It’s not. I mean you’re hot as hell, and not just in an “it’s summer and you’re outdoors” kind of way. But it’s your voice I’m in love with. Seriously. Why are you just backing vocals? You could be a real star with that tone, babe.”

“Are you trying to poach me? I’m not leaving the band.”

“W-well, no, I just… I was wondering if you’d be interesting in recording a few tracks with me while you’re in town? I need someone to duet with, and I’ve never met anyone with a voice so rich.”

“Duets? You in a band? Wannabe idol, or…?”

“Oh. OH. Uh. I’m Zen.” He said, and winked at them.

Garrett burst out laughing.

“Wait. Jaehee is a major fangirl for some guy she knows? I thought I was a bad enough case, oh my god.”

“You actually know Jaehee too? Not just because of the bullshit stage work that Trust Fund asshole has her doing?”

“Well, yeah, we went to cram school together like a decade ago. How do you know her?”

“We’re in a fundraising charity together. Have you heard of the RFA?”

“Oh, yeah, she wanted us to play for one of their Christmas parties a couple years back but we were in Canada at the time.”

“Haaah. That was you. She was so disappointed.”

“So, anyway. You want me to lay some tracks with you?”

“If you would. I’ve got some duets I want to cover, and I hope this isn’t offensive somehow, but I really think your voice would be stellar for the female lead lines.”

“Oh.” Garrett said, a bit taken back at just how considerate he was being. “No, that’s not offensive in the least. That could be fun, but I’d have to check with my manager about contract stipulations - our contract’s pretty tight at least until we release this album, so…”

“Oh, alright. How about I give you my number, and you can call me?” He looked uncomfortable, and now knowing who he was, Garrett didn’t blame him. 

“Yeah, let’s exchange contacts. I’d at least love to get coffee with you and Jaehee sometime.”

Zen held out his phone - They typed in their number, and he turned his phone back to himself and typed out a message.  They felt their phone buzz in their back pocket, and smiled.

“Got it.”

“Got what?” J.T. said, throwing a spare hand towel at their face.

“My number, hot stuff.” Zen said, with a wink at J.T., and then a wave in their direction without looking at them. “Garrett, babe. Don’t leave me waiting too long.” He’d put on this air of being incredibly too good for them, and strutted off like the hottest possible model.

Which, to be fair, he was objectively attractive. And subjectively hot as hell, Garrett thought.

“What was that about?” J.T. asked, eyeing them.

“Looks like Garrett got themselves a free ticket to a one night stand with a sexy groupie.” Ara said, smirking.

“Yeah, I’d hit that.”

“Poor guy’s going to be heartbroken when he realizes you’re aro, you know that right Garrett?” J.T. said, with a serious look.

“I promise, he’s not. It’s not…” Garrett sighed. They’d tried to play it up, really they had. “That was Zen. Jaehee knows him from that charity org. He wants to sing with me for his metube. I’m going to check with Mr. Kim about the contact and see what I can do - it certainly couldn’t hurt us to get our name out there a different way, you know?”

“Oh. Well now I feel like shit for insinuating that.” Ara said, sheepishly.

“No, he wanted you to think that, I guarantee it. Man’s a really good actor.” They pulled their phone out of their back pocket and laughed at the message before sharing it with the band.

Hey, it’s Zen. Or Hyun, if you’d rather. Hit me up, babe, you know I’m good for it.

[marshmallowprotection]

Slumber

Pairing: Reader/[SE] Saeran Choi Fandom: Mystic Messenger. Description: As you watch over his sleeping form, you recount all the ways you want to protect Saeran's dreams until the day you die. Word Count: 2,013

[Read On AO3]

He was fragile.

You'd never know it by looking at him, though.

Not a soul would ever think that a man who draped himself in a leather jacket for comfort could ever be fragile; much less would they expect him to be one of the most vulnerable people on the planet.

He suffered so much before you knew him, and frankly, he was still suffering to this very day, just not in the same way. It was different and yet, all the same. Not that you had any idea about the little things. His life before he met you was still an enigma.

Even knowing what you did today would never fully encompass his experience. You understood that very well. It was why you made a point to never question him or push his buttons when he had a bad day. You knew if he wanted to talk about it, he'd ask. The least you could do for him was be there when he asked if it would be alright if you could stay with him. You were under no real obligation to give him your company on the bad days, but you wanted to be there for him.

Saeran meant the world to you. Even if he was a little rough around the edges, you saw purpose and value in his exasperation. People would never understand him the way you did. It was a crying shame, but in many ways it made you feel special. The only reason you knew as much as you did was because he wanted you to know.

If he didn't want you to know what he felt, you'd never know what was going on inside his head. You considered yourself lucky since you were granted the opportunity to know him as well as you did. He was a polarizing figure in most people's lives; For the people who did know him, and the people who knew what he had done. That was difficult enough considering the only people who knew he even existed as a person were as many as you could count on one hand.  

You were probably one of the only people in his world he even trusted remotely enough to talk to.

How could anyone let him into their lives knowing every atrocity he had committed while under the influence of drugs and coercion? It wasn't possible for most, if not all people. You understood why it was difficult not only for him to be close to those people who were close to his brother, but why it was the same in reverse. How could any of them look at him without seeing those cold-blooded hands of a murderer? Saeran didn't think they could see anything else. It was one of the few things he mentioned to you about that fateful day.

It was the thing he mentioned the most when he woke up from night terrors about that day and couldn't stop shaking. He couldn't forget the way he felt in that moment when everything he'd been told up until that point became nothing more than a lie to manipulate him to be a tool. Every lie was something that he believed to be the gospel truth until she ripped it out of his chest and stomped on it like it was nothing. He only wanted it to stop. He wanted the pain to stop and he wanted people to leave him alone.

They cornered him like a caged animal and— he reacted.

Saeran wanted nothing more than to protect himself at that moment. He was scared, petrified, and afraid because he no longer knew anything to be real. When his world became a lie, he felt like a liar. Every single hiss underneath his breath about liars was just as fake as he was. You couldn't blame him for reacting out of fear. You sympathized with what he must have felt at that moment and how all he wanted at that moment was to make everyone disappear so he could crash.

Nonetheless, his fear had compelled him to react the only way he knew how to react—

With intimidation.

Saeran had never looked so small to you then at that moment. His clothes swallowed him and barely fit his malnourished frame in a way that made him look younger than he was, his tired eyes could hardly communicate any emotion other than what you could call terror, and his hands kept trembling like he was fighting to stay afloat during a hurricane. Despite everything he suffered at the hands of the people who were supposed to trust him and the acts he committed against others during those years of absolute torture… Even if he saw himself as a monster who couldn’t come back from what he’d done to people, you would never see him that way.

He would always be a man named Saeran Choi, a broken boy who, despite all his flaws, faults, and fears, would forever hold a piece of your heart.

There was no place in your heart for judgment. How could you judge him? After all, you were just as guilty as he was all things considered. There were times when you beat yourself up over what you had done in Magenta, too. But, you didn’t want it to consume you. You didn't want regret and paranoia to take over. There were things you regretted and things you would never regret. There were many things you would never forget.

But, if you knew anything about yourself, it was that if you allowed the harsh feelings of that place to follow you, you’d never be free. You would never be free of the basement and the toxic substance that eviscerated your lungs. You would never be free of the chanting and the hissing that came from those that claimed they could save you. You would never be free of the anger you felt that you’d never had in your heart before you came to that place. You would never be free of the petrified screams that you still couldn't identify as yours or someone else's.

Even if you couldn't forgive yourself, even if the world couldn't forgive you, you wanted to exist and experience life. That was what you wanted for Saeran. If nothing else, you wanted him to have what he always dreamed of. You wanted him to have those sprawling fields of flowers and tall grass that were too high to see over—wild enough to hide but not too far overgrown to relax—while his outstretched hand reached toward the sky to chase after the clouds and birds who knew true freedom more than he might ever know.

If he thought you deserved the chance to be free, then you wanted the same fate for him.

Even if he could only have peace for a fleeting moment, just a single second, that was all you could ever want for him.

Which was why you were incredibly glad Saeran finally went back to sleep after his night terror had kept him awake for hours. Somewhere in the middle of you talking about nothing and everything to ease his weary soul, he finally passed out. He couldn't fight his exhaustion forever, and you didn't want to leave him alone just in case he woke up screaming again.

Normally, when he had nights like this one, he didn't want anybody to be close to him because of his reaction to it. He would never say why he wanted to be alone, but you knew. You knew why he wanted to be alone. It was a sad and miserable kind of secret he kept under wraps for a damn reason. The kind of secret that would tell anyone why he looked so fragile if somebody looked underneath the surface of his dry expression.

Saeran would scream, punch, thrash, cry, and more just to get away from what he saw in his dream. It didn't matter how much anyone tried to reason with him, much less if he tried to reason with himself, the fear would take control of his body and he would react instinctively. Though he didn't say it, it was obvious even to you that he didn't sleep alone because he liked it. He slept alone because he was afraid that he would hurt somebody else.

His reasoning had to have been that it was better if he hurt himself amid his fear instead of someone else.

You weren't afraid of him.

But, Saeran was afraid you would be soon enough.

You gently tugged the comforter over his body so he wouldn’t catch a chill, making sure that it wasn’t too tight around him, but not loose enough that it would fall off of him if he turned in his sleep. The delicate balance between comfort and constriction was something you knew all too well. You waited to see how he’d react, knowing that his reaction to this gesture would tell you all you need to know about the night ahead of you.

The room was quiet, the sound of air being drawn into his lungs filled his tiny room, but as the minutes passed, he didn’t budge. It was a good sign because it meant he likely wouldn't wake up for a couple of hours. You let out a sigh you hadn't realized you'd been holding in. This is the way the world ends for a pair of people like you, right? Not with a bang, but with a whimper. Even so, as long as you were able to be together, you would never fear the abyss.

If he was lucky, this time, the exhaustion would keep him from having any dreams. He would slip into the dark space of his mind and enjoy a few hours of non-existence. He deserved to have a little moment where he wasn't thinking too hard about everything. That was all you wanted for him. You wanted him to have a blissful sleep. Even if the world around him could never be truly perfect, these hours could be enough for him to let go of everything that plagued him just enough to show you the man you loved to the moon and back was still in there.

So, you sat there next to him, whispering anything you could think of to ensure his nightmares could never catch up to him, while his features slowly but surely became peaceful. Even if the only thing you could ever do for him was talk him through the night, you were grateful because it meant you got the chance to see him as he truly was. A vulnerable soul who had lost his way down a path of fear that led him to do things he wasn’t proud of, but still wanted something to believe in.

Even if he would never admit it—

The only time you saw him smile freely was when you guarded his dreams.

This side of Saeran was one that you could only see if you were allowed to be this close to him. You knew what trust he placed in you to have let you inside his room at this hour, especially after having a nightmare. You wanted to relish this moment where you protected his slumbering dreams like it had been a duty given to you by your maker.

His smile was worth protecting, no matter what anyone else had to say about it. His tired and dirty hands would never suffer again... not as long as you were there to help him find the light of day. Maybe that meant you were just as horrible as he thought he was, but you didn't care. You didn't care what anyone had to say.

The only thing you cared about was Saeran's happiness—

And by God, you would protect it with your life no matter what.

That was the only thought you had in mind when you saw his smile, and it would continue to be your life's purpose just as it was his to learn how to live again.

[o-pandora-o]

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✧ ABOUT THE AUTHOR ✧ Greetings! Welcome to o-pandora-o! You can refer to me as Pandora. I'm 20+ and my pronouns are she/her. Hobbies: Anime, Manga, Drawing, Crafting, Playing Games. Games Played: Otome Games (MysMe, Dfel, Obey Me!, WHB, L&D etc.), Pokemon games, GENSHIN IMPACT, Honkai Star Rail I would like to apologize in advance as it would take some time to fulfill your requests as I am a full time college student and is busy with my hobbies. If I ever misunderstood your request please say so, as most of the time I am an airhead. Thank you all so much! Enjoy reading!