#and the whole new implications it brought out

[mynameisemma]

Sonyakhov has been living in my head rent free for years but to be honest, I'm also Nesvitsky/Sonya enjoyer not because I ship them but for the sole reason of Sonya suddenly finding herself in a Cinderella-like misalliance and grappling with the way how that changed dramatically her perception in the society (similar to how Pierre grappled with it after becoming Bezukhov's legitimate son) and eventually gaining enough social, financial and mental resources to shut the Rostovs off her life for good 🤭🤭🤭

[starseungs]

take a shot. ksm.

kim seungmin x fem!reader — it really shouldn't take a genius to figure out that you and your co-star didn't get along. you knew kim seungmin. you knew how life functioned despite the cameras. and you knew that it was harder to keep a good shot hidden than it was to delete a bad one.

genre/s — drama, angst, fluff, a sprinkle of comedy, actors au, enemies to lovers, slowburn • 19.4k words

warning/s — y/n gets referred to with she/her pronouns, profanity, implied death taken lightly (humor purposes), miscommunication to too much communication, y/n easily gets into a bad headspace, inaccurate depictions of filming a movie, the angst is strong = the fluff is strong, other idols are mentioned as characters along with skz members, mentions of alcohol in a scene

note — my longest fic yet !! it also took me so long to finish this (like three weeks i believe) and there were some struggles that happened in the making of this, but it turned out to be my most favorite work ive done ever. thank you for the people who patiently waited for this since the teaser, and remember that reblogs & feedbacks are greatly appreciated 🫶 i hope you enjoy the read !!

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

00 : ZERO.

“I’m sorry, what?”

The car remained silent despite your words of confusion. You felt as though your world had come to an extreme halt, giving you a whiplash as the buzz of the road outside continued to pierce through your ears. There was nothing else to keep your mind away from the absolute bomb of news that was just given to you; your manager had turned it down before uttering the horrid sentence that brought your untimely demise.

The car may have kept on with its task of moving forward—but you were stuck frozen in place.

“You’re joking.”

Your world fell on seemingly deaf ears. The man up front, steering the wheel, rendered himself mute to your growing distress, finding the busy traffic of city life interesting enough to keep his eyes glued. But the urban chaos didn’t distract you one bit from brewing a storm of gunpowder inside your throat.

And just like that, a ghost of a click was heard.

“No—please tell me you’re joking,” you voiced out, tone betraying your attempts at keeping things respectful. It soon came to your attention that the effort was of no use, as your manager still chose to keep his peace. “Changbin!”

The car swiveled a bit off-lane for a second before returning to its correct course. Normally, such an abrupt action by a vehicle would concern you, as you would argue that you were still much too young to suffer at the hands of a road accident, but no such thoughts even made their way into your brain. Just like how time had stopped for you, there was no time for debating over survival either. One life-or-death situation was already enough for you.

You wanted answers, and you were going to get them.

Changbin exhaled audibly from the scare he just put both of you through. His hands shook with a slight tremor, and that was all it took for him to decide that pulling over to the nearest parking area was for the best.

“Don’t yell in the car like that!” You scoffed at his scolding, finding the whole situation ironic.

“Oh, so you can do it all the time, but I can’t?” You shot back. Changbin sighed tiredly, finally registering the extent of your agitation. "Plus, I have a perfectly good reason why I’m yelling!”

“Listen, Y/N, it’s really not that bad—”

“Yes, it is that bad!” The words spill out of your mouth in utter disbelief at his attempts at assurance. “I’m working with Kim Seungmin, of all people!”

“And that’s why it’d be fine!” Changbin argued, running a hand through his already tousled hair. You blinked at his reply, baffled by the sheer implication.

“—How?”

Changbin clicked his tongue at the question, finding it hard to digest just why you were so against working with the mentioned actor. With the mere sound of that actor’s name spat out of your mouth, one would think that he had somehow managed to offend your entire bloodline. But that kind of bitterness could only be achieved through a sour history, so you really couldn’t empathize with your manager’s mindset either.

Even you knew that this movie would be enormously successful from the director alone. Director Han Jisung’s influence and presence in the industry were not a laughing matter—in fact, you should already be trembling in anxiety just knowing that you snagged probably the biggest role you’d ever get in your whole career. He was only around the same age as you, but the winding list of his achievements was already one for the records. And yet, here you were rethinking your contract with him even before the project started.

Just because of who you were going to be acting alongside with.

“Seungmin is a nice person,” Changbin explained gently like he was coaxing a child, intentionally ignoring the way your face scrunched up at what he said. “I did my research, ok? Everyone only has high praises for him, both on and off-set. Isn’t that enough to be trusted?”

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from digging a deeper hole to lie in. The answer was no—it wasn’t enough to be trusted. Now, at this point, someone would’ve had half a mind to ask why you were so sure about your vendetta against the man. If a person was so well loved in a world where cameras were pointed at them in every waking minute, then shouldn’t all the dirt be found by now, if there was any?

To that, your answer would be yet another no.

Because you knew Kim Seungmin. You knew how life functioned despite the cameras. And you knew that it was harder to keep a good shot hidden than it was to delete a bad one.

“Turn the car around.”

Changbin’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets at your demand. Surely, he had heard you now. You crossed your arms and leaned back to rest comfortably on the car seat, turning your head to face the window and glare at the world outside, continuing on with their lives like a well-followed routine.

“Y/N, this is a big opportunity—”

“I said, turn the car around. I’m not attending this cursed table reading.” You pinched the bridge of your nose to keep the incoming migraine at bay.

“You really think I’ll willingly step into a room with the devil’s incarnate? I’d rather get shot—”

01 : ONE.

“—sensing a great shot!”

Director Han Jisung nodded positively at your performance, satisfied with your initial portrayal of the female lead.

“If we keep going like this, then I’m expecting this project to be a big hit. The casting team really did their pay’s worth on this one,” the young director hummed. “Especially you, Actor Kim Seungmin. I don’t know how they managed to get through your company's walls, but I’m glad they did. You’re perfect for the role!”

You felt your eye twitch as the figure bearing the name appeared within your vision. His mouth curled up into an arrogant smirk, hastily covered up by a bashful smile. You cringed at his actions that only you seemed to see. Why was this prick acting all humble?

“Ah, I always wanted to act in one of your films, Director Han. This is more of an amazing opportunity for me than you, honestly.”

That smoothed honey voice wrapped itself around the room’s premise, charming everyone around like it was coming from an alluring siren. All except you.

Your mouth filled with a coating of spite as his next sentence echoed through your ears. His eyes locked you in as a target, a wordless challenge shooting straight at your own.

“Plus, seeing who my co-star is, I’m quite thrilled to see the end product,” Seungmin grinned with a manic glint.

Fuck. You should’ve turned that damned car around yourself. Maybe then you’d be enjoying a relaxing time in the tub, surrounded by bubbling suds of fragrant soap, instead of being a frontliner in this mental war your acting counterpart seemed to subject yourselves to. Now, you had to withstand the feeling of your body instantly going on auto-pilot after his words.

It was commendable, really—how Seungmin could take over a space of this size filled with various types of people so easily. He had major talent in that field, which greatly accentuated his acting power. Seungmin had a way with words, and while you would never be caught praising him out loud, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the bitter truth deep inside the darkest parts of your brain. It was almost obsessive, the way your mind zeroed in on his presence. Even as you let the busy table chatter away into a buzzing noise that barely made its way coherently through your ears, your eyes stayed glued to the figure in front of you, carefully studying his mannerisms as he enthusiastically interacted with everyone. You weren’t someone who Seungmin’s charms would work on—instead, you felt like prey, waiting to be pounced on any second now.

Before you knew it, the table reading came to a close. You could faintly remember standing and packing your things quietly, more focused on the sudden stinging feeling you felt coming from your eyes, already threatening to water. “This is ridiculous,” you huffed in frustration. Why did you feel the need to cry like a child at this very moment?

“With the way your script is being shoved in that tiny bag, yeah, I would say that too.”

“Leave me alone, Kim.”

You hear him chuckle, causing your grip on your leather bag’s opening to become tighter, feeling the metal zipper bite at your palm. “There’s a lot of Kims here, Y/N. Be careful now; they might mistake you for being rude to them,” he chirps. Fucking chirps. Like a small bird who deserves to be doted on. Except the man before you was neither small nor deserved to be doted on—Kim Seungmin would never be described in any of those words in your world.

“Right. Since they’re also talking to me right now,” you scoffed back. Thankfully, that seemed to keep the tears at bay for now. You refused to break down in front of the most infuriating man in your life.

“Still stuck up as ever,” he sighs. Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at his comment. You? Stuck up? If anything, that would be him! “This would be our first piece together after that charity drama our acting academy did way back a few years ago, so would it kill you to be civil?”

Ah. There it was. The infamous acting academy.

JYP Academy of Theatrics was admittedly one of the most successful acting academies in the country, known for producing many big name acts throughout its years of operation. Every aspiring actor has probably gone through the phase of wanting to be part of the academy’s carefully limited population of trainees—you included.

You remember the first time you brought up your plans on becoming an actress to your parents; their apprehensive faces telling you to try going to an acting academy first before giving up everything and running towards your dream blind. Young you didn’t realize the underlying implication that your parents were expecting you to be discouraged and give up on your thoughts of becoming an actress for good. Instead, you aimed high with the thoughts of their support, confidently applying for JYP Academy.

To your parents’ surprise, you passed both rounds of the screening, becoming a full-fledged acting academy trainee at one of the most prestigious places for it. It was also where you met the thorn in your life that was standing before you at the present.

“And frankly, I’m looking forward to this. So can we not ruin the mood on set?” He had the nerve to add. That was all you needed for your last string of restraint to snap.

“Why? So you could enjoy the power trip of watching me fumble around like a headless chicken after getting scolded a thousand times for my horrible acting skills?”

“What?”

You watched as Seungmin’s face morphed from exhaustion into a look of confusion at what you had just said. However, you knew better than to give him the benefit of the doubt—so you continued to shoot your bullets at him.

“I know you, Kim Seungmin,” you motioned towards him. “Don’t you dare think I’ve forgotten your days at the acting academy, especially that damned charity drama. But consider yourself lucky, since I won’t drag your ass down this time, Golden Boy. In fact, watch me shine on set even if it’s against your will or whatever is going on in that ego of yours, because I refuse to bow down to you. Things may have been different seven years ago, but I’ve grown since then. So if you want to prove to me that you have to, then know how to keep your mouth to yourself around me.”

After your little round of firing the pent-up rage inside of you, you snatched your bag from the table and stormed out of the room without another word. You had half the mind to worry if anyone had heard your little squabble with Seungmin, but you were already too far down the hall to go back and check, risking a blow to your conscience if ever you tried to go back. You only had the fact that you had managed to keep your voice surprisingly low throughout the whole exchange to console you.

With this, you continued your trek towards the parking lot to meet your manager once again—blissfully unaware of the state in which you left your co-star back in the room.

“What the fuck just happened?”

It took everything in Seungmin to not march after you and demand an explanation for what you had just said to him. In all honesty, Seungmin was baffled. Out of all the possible scenarios he had imagined to happen when meeting you, this was definitely not one of them. Sure, you two weren’t exactly the best of friends way back in your academy years, but he had at least considered you an acquaintance.

Even then, he didn’t remember your relationship being this bad. For all the times the both of you clashed heads, he couldn’t recall a single time serious bad blood was developed. The memory of you laughing joyfully as he messed up a line in your shared scene together on a monthly evaluation was still fresh in his memories—so just where did this hostility come from? If he were to base his conclusion off your words earlier, then it must have something to do with the charity drama, and that only made Seungmin more lost.

What you said earlier did hold some truth to them—you were scolded a lot by their advisor, slash project director, but in no way did you do badly in the production. Seungmin could testify to that. After all, he was witness to the amount of praise you got from fellow trainees as they watched you act out your scenes on camera, even though his younger counterpart was jealous of all the positive feedback. So now, he really couldn’t understand where your deep-rooted bitterness towards him came from. He even gave you some tips during the times you seemingly struggled with their advisor’s vision!

“Seungmin?”

He turned over to where his name was just called, seeing his manager approach him while bowing politely towards the small number of production staff left in the room. “Oh, did I take too long, Minho?”

“Yeah, but it’s alright. I knew you were going to catch up with a friend,” Minho looked around for a bit before continuing, “Speaking of which, did she go already?” Seungmin couldn’t stop himself from clicking his tongue at his manager’s words.

“It’s a long story.”

Well, two can play that game. If you truly knew him like you said you did, then you would know that Kim Seungmin isn’t one to give up when he sets his mind to something.

02 : TWO.

You wanted to give up right at this very moment.

Today was the first day of filming for the movie you were cast in as the female lead, yet here you were, one push away from having a mental breakdown. It was your first lead role—one that you had wished on countless stars to get ever since signing a contract with your current agency. Yet, now that you actually have it, you were left unsure of whether your acting could do proper justice to the character given to you. The confidence you flared towards Kim Seungmin a few days ago was nowhere to be found right now as anxious thoughts swirled through your head instead.

When you first read the script as one of your manager’s proposals for your next project, you instantly felt like the female lead’s role spoke to you the most. The plot itself was a masterpiece, clearly right up Director Han’s alley with its sentimental undertone and themes of self-discovery. It followed the male lead, returning back to his hometown for a high school reunion after just deciding to quit his job at a well-known corporation in the city. At the reunion, he meets the female lead, whom he remembers having the biggest crush on back in his teenage years—before he moved to the city for college.

In comparison, the female lead never left their homey countryside town. She attended the nearby community college and also settled her adult life in the same area. However, that didn’t mean that what she had achieved was all she wanted to do in life. Like everyone else, she too, had her own dreams. Unfortunately, she lacked confidence in herself to chase opportunities and got stuck right where her starting line was.

And in a way, she spoke to you.

You didn’t want to admit it, but perhaps you regret running your mouth like that at your co-star during the table read. It was a moment of weakness, you tried to tell yourself. Emotional you talked too big for what you could handle, so now you were left here to deal with the consequences of your actions.

But lies had their truths too.

It was true that you wanted to shine on set—outshining Kim Seungmin was just an added bonus to the thought. You’ve spent far too long in others’ shadows, never really feeling like you had the chance to show your fullest potential. That was something you fought for constantly, starting from your days at the academy up until the present, only to have no such luck. Maybe that was why you developed a habit of becoming pessimistic at the worst times, becoming your own enemy as you fall into a pit of self-sabotage, effectively going against everything you’ve ever wished for yourself. It was a cycle of keeping yourself confused with your own decisions, and it was a frustrating process.

You could only stare from the actors’ corner on the site as you watched the crew members run around making final arrangements for today’s shoot. Normally, you wouldn’t have seen this part of the process, as actors would often arrive later on when everything was nearly set, during their actual call time. You just intentionally went early, deciding that you weren’t going to get any more sleep even if you tried, seeing as most of the previous night was spent trying to make sure you had your lines all perfected. Sleep came rough yesterday, and you had no one else to blame but your own nerves.

At least the set looked great—today you were filming all the scenes needed for the high school reunion. The place was this quaint function hall in a small town about seven hours from the capital city, the same town you would be staying in to shoot for a little less than a week. You couldn’t help but think that maybe the new environment contributed more towards your slowly diminishing confidence, feeling yourself too far away from the strong presence of individualistic urban life. A defeated sigh was all you could do in attempt to ease yourself, even the slightest.

“I’m beginning to think this is going to become a pattern,” you hear a familiar toned voice comment. “Meeting you distressed, I mean.”

You spare the figure a half-hearted glance before rolling your eyes, forcing out an appropriate greeting. Or what was appropriate in your books, anyway.

“Oh, it’s you.”

Seungmin’s face displayed his feelings of amusement, which in turn made your frown deepen. “Not even a good afternoon? That’s harsh of you, Y/N,” he says in a tone made for mockery. “You really don’t like seeing my face, huh?”

“More like, I just don’t like you, period,” you grumbled in annoyance. “Also, why are you even here this early?”

Your surprise at his punctuality was real; you were not expecting to see him on set three hours early. But maybe you should have foreseen this behavior, seeing as the Seungmin you knew back then was also one to be on time during all lessons, activities, and practices. A part of you was then thankful for the question coming off as general because if you added any more comparisons, it would’ve seemed like you held on to too much information on him from the past.

“Just because I’m the main character doesn’t mean I should be fashionably late. Would it tick you off to know that I like being punctual with things?”

“Yeah,” was your immediate reply, not needing to think about it any further. “Since now, I have to time myself to arrive just before the call time.”

Seungmin lets out a deep sigh at your words. “You don’t want to spend any more time with me than necessary, got it.” He says, then lifting a finger up to tap against his ear. “But you know, you should really learn to keep your plans away from enemy ears.”

You tried your best not to show the inner war that just sparked inside of your head—you really shouldn’t have found that small gesture attractive, but the romantic side in you swooned so easily against your will. And for what? Kim Seungmin, of all people? You really should tone down all the enemies-to-lovers content you were consuming, because this was the last thing you wanted to happen. Real life just doesn’t play out like that.

Giving him some slack and perhaps a half-assed attempt at reverse psychology, you replied with a tired tone. “I’ll agree with you on that one, so you may walk away now, Kim.”

Except that Seungmin didn’t seem to catch the memo.

“Says the one who keeps talking,” he snarks at you. “For someone who told me to keep my mouth to myself around you, you’re the one who keeps the conversation flowing.”

You rolled your eyes for the second time since starting this conversation. At this point, you were convinced that Kim Seungmin was on a mission to dislocate it. “You just have to win everything, do you?”

“It’s my charm, I suppose.”

“And I disagree. The only charm you have is that mouth of yours you use to manipulate everyone around you.”

That seemed to snap something within Seungmin. “What the hell did I ever do to you?” He spits out furiously. “I would’ve already sued you for defamation if you acted like this around everyone else, so you should be thankful that I’m being tolerant of your attitude right now.”

“Thankful? Why would I be thankful?” Was your baffled response. “You know, I’m starting to believe that you don’t remember what you put me through all those years ago at all, and it’s only making me more upset that you seem to hold no remorse whatsoever.”

“If it’s that bad, then go ahead and tell me!” Seungmin hissed in an attempt to keep his voice down and not cause a scene. “I don’t have time for this roundabout game you have going on, and honestly, neither should you. We have a high-profile movie to film, and I would never let whatever this is ruin the hard work of a hundred people—so get your head out of your ass and either clench your teeth and save the working environment we have or be a dear and solve this issue with me right now.”

Now you were just barely containing your rage. It was at this point that you realized that Seungmin wasn’t faking anything; and that made it sting a lot more in your already scarred heart. Of course, someone like him wouldn’t understand why you were acting like this. Someone like him, born talented enough to be loved and praised by everyone, would never see the other side that you had to be dragged through—the side that existed all because of people like him, too.

“Fuck you, Kim Seungmin,” you croaked out through tears. “I knew someone like you would never understand.”

And you ran.

“What are—Y/N! Come back here!”

03 : THREE.

“Y/N, where in the world even are you? You need to come back to the actors’ tent right now!”

Changbin’s voice boomed through your phone’s speaker a lot louder than usual, causing you to jerk it away from your ear in pain. Well, you did deserve the scolding—after running off to God knows where in a relatively remote town you didn’t even know, you would be pissed as hell too if you were your manager. What kind of actress just leaves the set without a single thought like that?

“I swear, Y/N. Do not tell me you’re lost because I’m pretty sure I left you somewhere safe the last time I saw you,” you hear Changbin huff on the opposite end. “I can’t believe you told me that you were going to be fine on your own, and I actually trusted you. That’s it! I’m not letting you wander around the set anymore from this point onwards!”

You couldn’t help but find your manager’s rant funny, despite the clear threat being held above your head. “Really? I’m telling you that it’s almost call time, and you’re just laughing. Fine, go on your own soul-searching, or whatever it is you’re doing. I’m telling everyone you left your role to go play hooky—”

Oh, you could only wish. After your little squabble with Seungmin, playing hooky didn’t sound like a bad option. Sadly, you still had a conscience that weighed on you—even more hypersensitive to the people around it with your co-star’s earlier comment of ruining other people’s hard work. You hurriedly shook your head to get rid of the negative thoughts that were starting to plague your head once again, and instead focused on the group of trees that lined the path towards the entrance of the function hall.

“Changbin, I’m fine.”

“Damn right, you should be!” He screeches one last time before calming down. “But in all seriousness, you need to head over here now, or Director Han is going to chew me a new one. He knows my sister, and I don’t want to be berated for not doing my job properly by her of all people.”

You chuckled at the competitiveness in his voice. “Don’t worry, I just took a short walk for fresh air. You know how nervous I was earlier on the way to the set.” Changbin hummed in acknowledgement.

“And on the way to this town in general,” he teases. It didn’t last long, though, since he immediately followed up on your well-being with a soft tone. “Did the walk help? I can get you some hot tea too, if you want.”

“Look at you, finally being a proper manager,” you threw back at him, snickering as offended noises started to pour out of your phone. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll take you up on that tea offer. Plus, I’m just around the corner now.”

Once you saw his figure coming into view, you hung up the call and opted to wave your right arm to catch his attention. Changbin broke out into a frantic sprint towards you the minute he saw you approaching.

“Oh, thank whatever deity there is. You need to head over to the tent right now and—” He suddenly stopped mid-sentence, holding you still at arms length to give you a look of confusion as he scanned your face. “Did you cry? Why are your eyes like that?”

Shoot. You had totally forgotten about that for a second. “Ah,” was all you could muster in a sheepish daze. “It was just to let the nerves out, you know? It’s nothing serious.”

Changbin narrowed his eyes at your excuse, making you hold your breath unintentionally. It felt as though you were being picked apart, trying to find the truth that you desperately wanted to keep hidden. Eventually, the man before you decided to let it be, sending you off with an exhausted wave.

“Hm. Alright, and it’s already going away, so it must’ve just been a light session. Try to blink it out more so that it’s long gone once you step in front of the cameras.”

You silently breathed out a sigh of relief. “Will do. Thanks, Changbin.”

“Stop being a sap and head over to the tent already,” he chuckles before sending you a comforting smile. “Good luck. I’ll just be here.”

A grateful look found its way onto your face as you walked briskly towards the actors’ tent. You should really treat Changbin to dinner after all of this is over, you think to yourself, putting on your game face and entering the enclosed area with a newly steeled heart.

Now, Seungmin wasn’t the type to be overly concerned with others’ business. While he wouldn’t exactly call himself an extreme individualist, he still did have an appreciation for community. You wouldn’t catch him dead in the act of trying to mingle with someone else’s issues if it had nothing to do with him. However, all that seemed to somehow fly out the window whenever it had something to do with you.

To him, you were a person qualified enough to be considered intertwined with his own life. Sure, he hadn’t seen you in person for years, but that still would never be able to erase the fact that you knew him behind the cameras. Actually, even worse.

You knew the person he was before he even took up acting as a career.

Perhaps that was why he was so bothered by the way you were acting with him recently. He doesn’t even recall ever being that hostile to someone since his high school days, and that alone terrified him. It was like he regressed back to the days of his youth whenever he interacted with you—and that did more harm than good. The younger him was full of teen angst that he wanted to bury deep inside the confines of his past, but the animosity you seemed to harbor personally against him made him wonder if he was truly missing important information from that era of you both.

So when he saw you walk into the tent with fading redness evident in your eyes, just right after your small fight with him earlier, he instantly felt a punch in his gut. In all honesty, he wasn’t aiming to make you cry—it just so happened that the spur of the moment was so intense that he spat out things he barely meant. Sure, they still stemmed from the truth of how he felt since he did want to make amends with you, but even he wants to kick himself for the way he worded things so out of pocket. His reaction to the situation was so childish that it would be easier to think he finally went insane from the busy schedules he’s been doing than believe that what he did was a conscious decision. He was supposed to be the mature one at that moment, reaching out to fix the issue.

And yet here he was, feeling like a child in front of you.

He wanted to approach you, apologize for earlier, and maybe another one for whatever stupidity his old self did that was clearly bad enough for his mind to completely block out entirely. If you were reacting this much, it had to be at least somewhat of a traumatizing experience. Seungmin doesn’t think he ever got that bad back then, but everyone had different perspectives—and yes, young him had a tendency to be a prick. He still had friends, though, and no one ever called him in to discuss his behavior, so it wasn’t like he was a bully.

Either way, he felt the need to apologize—and maybe get an apology back, but his legs wouldn’t let him. A part of him knew that if he did approach you at the moment, you might run away again, and it was almost time for the briefing. Instead, he settled on looking at you across the pop-up room, hoping that his silent sentiment was delivered.

Which it was not. At all.

If anything, it added more pressure to whatever nerves you were holding back. Seungmin’s gaze was so piercing to the point that you didn’t even need to turn and look to know that he had his eyes locked on you. What does he want from you now? Oh, right—you two would be filming your scenes together in a matter of about an hour or two. Maybe this was Seungmin’s way of telling you to get your shit together while finally respecting your wishes to be left alone. Improvement is improvement, so you’d leave him alone to do his thing too.

“All right, is everyone here?” A lean man in his mid-twenties walked in, asking everyone inside. There was another person following him, yet seemingly younger. “It seems so. If someone you know is late, just fill them in with the details later.”

The first man lifted up a thick bind of paper, which you quickly recognized as the script. “I’m sure everyone has read their copy of this. My name is Hwang Hyunjin, and I’m the head scriptwriter for this film. Over here to my side is Yang Jeongin, my assistant. We’re here to give you a briefing on how this shoot will go for today since Director Han and Assistant Director Lee are busy with the filming crew as of the moment.”

So they were the ones behind the script. You felt your excitement levels increase as various questions about the story’s making filled your head—but you would save that for another day. Perhaps during the crew dinner after the movie’s filming was completed.

“Today, we’ll be filming one of the first scenes in the movie—the reunion. That’s why there’s a lot of you are here right now, despite the story only really having a few recurring characters. Still, whatever your role is, I hope you take this opportunity with pride. All of you here will be treated as actors for as long as you stand on this set, so have the dignity of one. Whether you have lines or not, what I expect from all of you is your best, and only your best,” Head Scriptwriter Hwang emphasized.

The briefing continued on with the necessary information for the reunion scene, with detailed clarifications and stage directions. If you weren’t locked in on all the information being fed to you, you would’ve had half the mind to acknowledge how strikingly handsome the man was upfront. A few others did, though, and you couldn’t really blame them. The guy could be an actor himself if he wanted to be.

“And I believe that’s all for now,” Head Scriptwriter Hwang clapped his hands in satisfaction. “Hair and makeup will take care of you all for about an hour and a half. I see that some of you already came prepared, so go ahead and touch up yourself if you want to. Main characters, you have your own booths,” he glances towards the stations at the end of the tent.

“You’ll be called up when needed. Actor Kim Seungmin, please get ready first since we need you for the entrance shots. That is all. Good luck.”

Head Scriptwriter Hwang bows politely to all of you before exiting the tent with Assistant Yang. With that, the battlefield begins.

You couldn’t remember much of what was happening other than you being sat down in front of a well-lit mirror and letting yourself become a doll in the hands of the make-up artists. The one assigned to your hair did start a short conversation about your previous works, to which you could only thank her shyly for her support. While you weren’t the most popular actress out there, you were still relatively well-known, with notable works under your belt. Seven years of experience wasn’t something someone could just laugh at, after all.

On the other hand, your co-star was a famous A-lister who was most likely getting paid significantly more than you for his role in this film. You glanced a bit to your right, where Kim Seungmin was happily chatting with his hair and makeup assignees, his voice effortlessly traveling its way over to your spot.

Ever the social butterfly, that one.

“Are you excited?” The woman assigned to your hair, who you learned was named Eunha, asked. You looked at her, startled by the sudden topic change. “Sorry—it’s just that you kept looking over at Actor Kim that it came to mind. He is quite the looker, isn’t he?”

“Oh.”

How should you even respond to that? It wasn’t like you could just go around advertising your personal beef with the man when, as far as you knew, he had a clean record on his plate. That would just be a lawsuit waiting to happen. You’d have to settle for something vague instead. “I guess,” you cringe at the evident pain in your voice.

“I’ve heard from others in the industry that he’s a great guy. You’ll have a blast filming this movie with him. I know it’s a bit awkward right now, but I’m sure you’ll warm up to him soon. After all, you’re both the lead roles.”

You’ll surely have a blast, alright—straight to the ego.

This conversation just gave you the unfriendly reminder that you had to act all lovey-dovey with this man, and if anything, it was triggering some unpleasant memories. By memories, you meant the charity drama from your acting academy days.

Your experience with that project was interesting, to say the least.

It had all started with Seungmin winning the prize of being the drama’s male lead after getting the top spot on the year-end evaluation for the junior level. Along with his prize came the privilege to choose who he would be acting alongside, only to surprise everyone when he chose you, a trainee who barely got recognition and wasn’t even in the top ten of your level. At first, you felt honored. It was like you were finally getting acknowledged, and by the top performer, no less. So you worked hard to do your part properly, wanting to repay Seungmin for his act of kindness; only for that kindness to turn out to be a mockery of you.

The difference in skill between you two was just too wide. Your shortcomings showed far too much, and your mistakes ended up being emphasized to the point that your level advisor became endlessly frustrated with you. First, it was the scolding. The woman clearly did not appreciate you holding back the entire production, especially since it was for a cause, so she would point out every problem in your acting, which quickly took a turn after you showed barely any improvement. Eventually, your advisor started to berate you—going as far as constantly referring to you as the reason the drama would fail. When you tried to raise the concern with her that it was affecting you negatively, she only brushed you off with a comment about how you should know to take constructive criticism this early to succeed in the actual industry.

At eighteen years old, you could only clench your teeth and accept your fate.

Things only got worse when you overheard Seungmin talking to his friends near the vending machines after practice one day—the same day they were talking about you.

“Dude, why did you choose Y/N to be the female lead?” One of Seungmin’s friends, Yeonjun, groaned aloud. “She’s awful at it. What? Do you like her or something?”

Seungmin only shrugged. “Not really,” he said, uninterested. “I just kept seeing her name during level advancements but never saw her doing anything to stand out. If she got this far, then I should give her a chance, no?” Yeonjun pursed his lips at the answer.

“That’s just cruel, man. The witch has it out for her now.”

“Then she can just do better,” Seungmin chuckles, taking a sip from his soda before continuing. “Not my problem anymore. If I do my role well enough, maybe they’ll pay less attention to whatever she’s doing.”

Beomgyu, another friend of his, scoffed. “So, like—you’re basically using her to your advantage.” You watched Seungmin wave him off without a care.

“Stop making it sound so bad like that,” he hums at the thought. “Let’s just say I’m saving her the embarrassment. Like you said, it was my fault she’s getting thrown around like this anyway,” Seungmin continues before tossing his empty can of soda in the trash.

And wow, did you feel like one after hearing that.

Starting from that point onwards, you held a dislike for Kim Seungmin. It did, however, give you enough spite to use as a driving force to do well in the charity drama—eventually climbing up to senior level right beside Seungmin, where you two clashed for the higher ranks before graduating and starting your own careers.

Despite this, the memory of the junior project still stayed ingrained in you, never really managing to fade away like you wanted it to, causing you to struggle in your quest to succeed in the industry. The deprecating thoughts came at the worst times, making you revert back to that eighteen-year-old who kept her tears at bay as the director shouted at her for the nth time.

It was particularly the worst right now.

“Cut! Bad take!”

You snapped your head towards Director Han, who looked so frustrated that he started to resemble a certain someone from the ghosts of your memories. Kim Seungmin was in front of you, his tongue poking at his cheek after hearing the comment. Right, you were at the set—shooting a scene. And you had just failed to say your next line.

“Actress Y/N, you can’t just keep forgetting your lines like this!”

04 : FOUR.

You really can’t go on forgetting your lines like this.

“Y/N.” Changbin sighs heavily. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

It would have been amazing if the gods could hear your plea. Your wish was fairly simple, after all—to be buried six feet under at the moment. To hell with being a popular actress; you wanted nothing more than to disappear right now after that stunt you just pulled. On the first day of filming, no less.

Should you just go dig your own hole instead?

“It won’t happen again,” you softly replied, like a child getting scolded by their mother.

Your manager could only take a deep inhale at your words. “And I believe you, I really do,” he says. “But I can’t just let this go like this.”

Of course, he couldn’t. You would do the same thing in his shoes. Changbin was a manager for an actress—an actress who clearly can’t even manage herself. Your job’s core had a simple description, and that was to act out your lines. Lines that you had to memorize, internalize, and perform. What was the point of having seven years of experience under your belt if you couldn’t even do the basics of your occupation?

“You have to understand, Y/N. It wasn’t just once, or twice, or heck—not even thrice! You had a minimum of five retakes per couple of lines, and that’s already concerning enough for me to have to intervene. Director Han was really disappointed today, and it’s only the first filming. The only reason you’re still coming back on set tomorrow is because, at the end of the day, we managed to get good takes despite the issues. So pray tell, is something wrong?”

The humble inn’s room you were staying in became devoid of sound from your lack of response, making the cicadas outside seem a lot louder than they actually were. Your sitting figure made you look small in front of the man before you, who was pacing across the room in distressed strides. In all honesty, you had nothing to say back to Changbin. As much as you trusted him like your own older brother, explaining your oh-so-stellar performance earlier would entail having to reveal your past with Kim Seungmin, which was the last thing on the list of secrets you wanted to get out. Thus, there was only one solution to your dilemma.

“Can we replace Kim Seungmin?”

Changbin’s jaw slacked. “What—him again?” He laughed humorlessly, completely baffled at your request. “And replace, you say? Y/N, at the rate we’re going, you’re the one in danger of getting replaced!”

Okay, you should’ve expected that. But the sting from your manager’s comment wouldn’t hurt any less, even if you did.

You were well aware of all of your shortcomings as an actress. The seven years you gained in this industry clearly taught you a lot of important lessons, but those same seven years barely did anything to your ability, no matter the amount of effort you desperately poured into your career. It felt like a futile attempt at pouring into a cup that had a big hole at the bottom—knowing you could be filled to the brim with the necessary factors to succeed exponentially, yet still letting everything go down the drain.

Maybe this was the wake up call you needed to acknowledge that you’re the only one holding yourself back. And you had the slight inkling that you knew all along where this whole mess stemmed from.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, even?” Changbin ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “Look, if you really don’t want to tell me, then fine. I’ll respect your wishes. But you can’t expect me to understand where you’re coming from if I know nothing. Deal with how overbearing I could be, or I don’t know, just keep that in mind.”

“I understand.” You meekly nodded. “Sorry, again. I’ll do better tomorrow.”

With your vague words, Changbin eventually came to the conclusion that you weren’t going to speak about the issue today. Walking towards you, he finally accepted your decision with a light pat on the head. “You don’t have to say that to me, Y/N. Maybe to the crew tomorrow. And Actor Kim Seungmin if you want. Just promise me a better performance tomorrow, and we’ll be good.”

You chuckled dryly. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

“Alright.” Your manager rolled his shoulders back, releasing the tension that built up from his pacing. “I’ll go to my own room now. Get some good rest. You need it after what happened today,” he chuckles.

“Okay, good night.”

You plastered a small smile for him, only letting it drop completely after you heard the door shut. After that, it was just you and your mind, ready to play the most depressing thoughts all through the night to beat you down once again. However, you weren’t going to fall for that today. You had already promised a better performance on filming tomorrow.

And what better ways were there to achieve both than practice until the sun rises?

Well, that surely did it’s work for you because you walked into the set the next day looking like a few years had just shaved off your lifespan. But as long as you could still function well enough to participate in the shoot, then you would consider your little sacrifice worth it.

A certain someone would beg to disagree, though.

Seungmin has never felt more concerned in his life. Just what in the world did you do all night to come out of your room looking like a literal zombie? To make matters worse, no one was even batting an eye at your less-than-ideal state! He watched you get your makeup done from across the tent with a thoughtful expression.

“Is it just me, or did Y/N get no sleep whatsoever?”

Minho cringed at Seungmin’s blunt comment. “Oh, you noticed it too?” He purses his lip, feeling uneasy. “I feel bad for her, but after the mishap from yesterday, I wouldn’t be surprised if she stayed up all night trying to make sure it doesn’t happen again. No sleep is better than no role in this industry, after all.”

Seungmin frowned at his manager’s words. That can’t be right. Sure, as actors, getting roles to play was their bread and butter—but no project was going to be worth more than their own well-being. If your condition was bad, then how were you expecting to have the proper mindset to act well? That should be simple logic.

He huffed. “I’m going to talk to her.”

Before he could even take a step forward, a strong force had already pulled him back. “Stop right there, Seungmin.” His manager gripped his shoulder in warning. “I know you mean well, but please do not do anything to agitate Actress Y/N any further.”

Seungmin turns back in disbelief. “What are you even talking about?”

“Aren’t you two close? I know how you joke around when you’re comfortable, and I’m just letting you know that this might not be the best time to do so.”

The actor narrowed his eyes at the implication being thrown his way. “You know, you’re making me out to be a major ass right now.” Minho shrugged.

“That’s because one wrong move, and you might as well be,” he sighs. “Look, all I’m saying is that what she probably needs right now is support. Someone who would give her motivation to get through the shoot today.”

Seungmin deadpanned at his manager’s sudden advice. He wasn’t expecting Minho, of all people, to lecture him about how to properly interact with others. “Exactly?” The younger of the two raises a brow. “What else do you think I was going to do?”

Minho looked hesitant for a second. “You and I both know that you’re not exactly the most—” he trails off, making random expressive movements with his hands instead. Seungmin scoffed.

“Spit it out.”

“—Motivating. You’re probably the least motivating person here.”

Seungmin visibly blanched at Minho’s admittance. Truth be told, he wasn’t expecting the older man to say anything particularly nice, but the actual reveal was just completely out of his radar.

Even when he was young, Seungmin never struggled with making friends. He’s always been well-liked by the people around him, which has made him fairly popular amongst his peers. With such a positive response from a lot of people regarding him as a person, Seungmin was clearly gifted in the art of making friends. So now, being told that he lacked the skill of uplifting others greatly confused him. If that were true, then shouldn’t he have had the opposite experience with socializing?

“I—” He stutters, caught off guard. “Do my social skills not prove to be enough for you?”

“Those are two completely separate things,” Minho barely managed to suppress a sneer. “Seungmin, you’re great at casual talk—that’s no surprise. But you also have the tendency to be dense. And that’s putting it lightly.”

“Oh.”

That would make sense. A part of him also admitted that his younger counterpart did struggle with connecting to others. Yes, he had a lot of friends, but that didn’t mean he saw all of them equally. As harsh as that may be, the old Seungmin had this unfathomable standard for people he could call friends, which he used as a strict criteria for judging others. He still kicks himself whenever he gets reminded of how big his high horse used to be, for no reason. Seungmin was more than willing to leave that time of his life at the back of his mind to collect dust. His life has been so much better without it, and he would do anything to maintain this satisfactory present he has carved for himself.

His manager chuckled. “Who knows, though? Maybe you could finally practice your empathy with this conversation. You’ve been around professional robots for far too long.”

“That sounds like an insult,” Seungmin says, expressing his doubt.

“I’m just saying it as it is.” Minho patted his back twice. “Now, I already warned you enough. If you still want to talk to Actress Y/N, then go ahead. Just know that whatever comes out of that mouth of yours is completely your responsibility, and I will not cover for you if you come out of this one with a broken friendship.”

Seungmin let the words sink in.

“There you go, all done!” Eunha exclaims, lightly pushing your hair forward to make the volume more noticeable. You gave her a thankful smile.

Eunha was someone you'd only known for two days, but she was already becoming your favorite person on set. The way she manages to lighten your mood every time made her worthy of being on the list of people you greatly appreciated, especially with how things were going for you recently. Today too, her positivity was very welcomed.

“Thank you,” you say while admiring her work. “It looks pretty today too.”

The hairstylist beamed. “Of course it should be,” she huffs in pride. “You need to be the prettiest one here on set. After all, you’re the female lead!”

You knew she didn’t mean it to be, but her words felt like little stabs to your heart. The prickly ache spread slowly, like poison that was meant to be discrete. You chuckled to offset the pain.

“Right.”

Female lead. The character you worked so hard for—only for you to also ruin the chance with your own hands. You couldn’t help but think of how ungrateful you were being, and for what? A personal grudge towards your co-star, who was being more professional about the situation than you ever tried to be? It was almost laughable how belatedly you realized that the situation was never going to be in your favor. You weren’t someone looking to be pitied, so why were you hypocritically trying to paint yourself as the distressed damsel?

Eunha sent you a troubled glance as she fixed the tools on the table. “Are you alright? I—” She sighed. “I didn’t want to point it out earlier, but I guess my concern got the best of me. The bags under your eyes looked deep earlier—Yerin did a great job covering them up, though! You don’t worry about how you’ll look on camera, but I’m just worried about your condition.”

You sheepishly scratched your arm at being pointed out. “Sorry for worrying you. I just forgot the time last night and fell asleep late. You could say I was too excited to shoot again today.”

“Well, that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

You jumped in your chair, startled by Seungmin’s voice suddenly joining the space on your side of the tent. Eunha’s eyes gave you a silent apology before bowing to Seungmin and heading out of the tent, indicating that her task was finished. Your gaze fluttered toward your co-star, who was looking at you in a disapproving manner. It was then that you remembered his comment.

“And that was rude of you to disrupt a conversation that had nothing to do with you.”

Seungmin wasn’t fazed by your bite. “Why didn’t you sleep?”

“I asked a question first, Kim.” You crossed your arms at being ignored. “Also, I did sleep.”

"No, you didn’t,” he pressed on. You could feel your blood pressure rise at his insistence. “Even a twenty-minute nap could do wonders. You just look horrible.” You scoffed at the insult.

“Gee, thanks. Exactly what I needed to hear.”

Seungmin’s eyes widened comically, and you almost laughed at the sight. Almost. He looked so guilty of what he had just said that you felt the urge to tease him as revenge.

“Wait, no—”

“An explanation isn’t necessary,” you hummed. “Even if that wasn’t a joke, I could really care less right now.”

Your reply made Seungmin flail his hands around like a madman. “It was a joke. I didn’t mean anything about it,” he coughs out before composing himself after realizing how silly he was acting. “Sorry.”

“Ok. Thank you for apologizing.”

“Sure,” he trailed off. Seungmin was now unsure of what to even do.

Oddly enough, your heart warmed at his reaction. A part of you was thanking yourself for finally becoming more rational, as you thought that maybe he wasn’t so bad. Sure, your past together was still rocky territory, but you had to remind yourself that time had also passed. Seven years at that. That detail took you back to the conversation you two had back at the table reading. You remember the way you hissed at him that you had changed—what made you assume that he couldn’t do it too? Everyone was allowed to become better versions of themselves, and Kim Seungmin wasn’t exempted from that. He was but another person living amongst others in this world, after all.

Changbin was right. Seungmin also deserved an apology.

“I guess I also owe you an apology,” you say softly. “About how I’ve been towards you the whole time—it was immature of me. I hope we can continue to work well until the end of this project, like you said yesterday.”

“Now, this is just odd.”

Seungmin was now utterly lost. He recalls approaching you despite Minho’s warnings, deciding that he had enough self-restraint to not screw it up—only to end up insulting you without meaning to. But that wasn’t the confusing part.

It was your reaction.

In Seungmin’s experience, you weren’t one to let something go like that. Even back when you both were in your senior level days at the academy, a simple jest from him would set you off into flames. The you he knew would immediately choose to chew him out, hoping that he would get burned by a rogue ember of your fury for even just attempting to speak such words. But the person in front of him right now did none of that. The you in the present simply took the accidental insult and even apologized for the ones you’ve spat out over the previous days. It was a whiplash, to say the least—just yesterday he was still fighting to keep you in a flowing conversation. So, what was this he was witnessing?

“Is it?” You snicker. “Just think of it like winning. You were right. This is a high-profile project, and I’m over here messing around. I’ve prepared a better performance for you all to see today, so be rest assured.” Seungmin still wasn’t assured.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re alright—”

“Main characters on set!”

Damn. So that’s how it feels for your conversation to get interrupted by someone unrelated to it. Seungmin internally acknowledged your annoyance earlier and kicked the memory of himself from a few minutes earlier.

You turned back to him, tilting your head. “What was that?” Seungmin refused to admit that he found the action cute.

“No, it’s nothing,” he said, clearing his throat. “Let’s have a good shoot.”

05 : FIVE.

Okay, you do not think this was turning out to be a good shoot.

You were already regretting pulling another all-nighter the day after you got absolutely no sleep. This meant that you were already nearing 48 hours of no sleep, to which you were surprised you were still even capable of functioning. You had never gone this long without sleep, and it was both thrilling and terrifying to you at the same time.

Honestly, you were already expecting to feel lethargic after the shoot yesterday, especially after staying up the entire night to master your parts and was planning to go to sleep early to make up for it. However, after getting nothing but praise from the directors and filming crew the whole day for your stellar performance that day, you came to the conclusion that perhaps your sacrificial act was exceptionally effective. A little too effective since your manager even said that your acting became much more alive than the takes you did the previous day, despite feeling the complete opposite internally.

Now, while you normally wouldn’t describe yourself as someone who was peer pressured easily, it still felt really nice for your hard work to be acknowledged after the disappointing performance you had the day before. Which also led you to your current predicament—woefully repeating the same magical process that helped you gain your reputation back.

“You’re yawning an awful lot.” Seungmin raised a brow in question. “Don’t tell me that all the praise you got yesterday already got to your head, and you suddenly find all this boring.”

An irked look made its way onto your face, pinching hard on Seungmin’s arm. You watched in satisfaction as he yelped audibly at your damage, jerking away in reflex. “What the fuck, woman?”

“It’s what you get,” you say nonchalantly while shrugging. Seungmin scoffs at the response.

“Just because we have a truce now doesn’t mean you can abuse me whenever you like,” he snarls. “What happened to the Y/N who didn’t want me to talk to her unless, quote on quote, necessary?”

You cringe at the unwelcome reminder of your previous activities. “I apologized! Would you rather have me act like a total bitch again?”

“Well—no. That Y/N was a pain to deal with.”

“Then be grateful for what you have right now.”

Seungmin lets out an amused snort, crossing his arms and leaning backwards closer towards the living room’s walls, where you two were on standby. “Oh, believe me. I’m more than grateful.”

The set right now was in a cozy cottage house, designed to imitate what the female lead’s family home would look like. You had already moved past the beginnings of the main characters’ romance yesterday and were now heading into the development stage, where they spend more time together until they realize their feelings. A domestic scene in one character’s home was a popular trope—which was, of course, also included in the movie.

If today’s shoot goes well, then you only have one day left in the filming process before everyone packs up to head back to the city. Not for Seungmin, though. The male lead still had to film the first part of the movie where he quit his job at the company. You’d have to laugh at him about it on the last day.

First, you had to get through this shoot without fainting flat on your face.

It was a particularly hot day too, which made your drowsiness even worse. The rural countryside cottage didn’t have an air conditioner set up, so you had to make do with fans all over the place. But that barely did anything to cool you down, as the air around the place itself was humid. At least you weren’t shooting out in the sun today.

“Geez, my makeup might melt even before we start filming,” you groan. “That’s if my head doesn’t explode first.”

Seungmin chuckles. “Blame your character for being a sweater enthusiast. That outfit must be torture in this weather.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. The thick baby blue cardigan you were wearing felt like a punishment to wear at the moment. It was unfortunate that you felt really cute in this get-up because you wanted to trash on it so badly.

Actually, fuck it. Comfort matters more.

“I don’t understand how she does it,” you whine dramatically. “Every scene she’s had has her wearing some kind of version of a sweater. Does she not get hot at all?” You pull on your slightly weighted cardigan.

“I do think she’s plenty hot enough.” Seungmin smirks, glancing at you while waiting for your reaction.

You hummed in agreement. “She’s probably just tolerating it since it's her clothing style. I’ve had my fair share of those moments too.”

It wasn’t something you could see since you were more preoccupied with watching the staff prepare for filming, but Seungmin’s ears were slowly turning red. He took note of how his less than savory joke completely flew over your head, now leaving him to drown in the embarrassment of his original intentions.

Internally, he was already having a boxing match with himself. He thinks she’s plenty hot enough? What does that even mean? You were the only image he had of the female lead since you had her role! Seungmin wanted the ground to suddenly swallow him whole at the implication.

You, on the other hand, were fighting a completely different battle. The combination of the heat and your severe lack of sleep was becoming dangerous. You could already feel a growing pounding in your head, the world’s noise becoming more muffled by the second. It seemed like your vision wasn’t affected yet, though—and for that, you were relieved. That meant you could still stretch yourself out until the shoot was finished. You’d already done this once yesterday, so a second time wouldn’t be that bad, right?

Wrong.

Seungmin’s voice as he carried out his lines in the scene seemed so far away to you already, and it had only been an hour since the cameras started rolling. Internally, you were already sounding the sirens. Something was definitely wrong—you don’t think Seungmin was supposed to sound like he was underwater.

Your co-star seemed to notice that you were out of it too, except he couldn’t exactly stop the scene as you were still conducting your parts as proficiently as you could. Director Han hasn’t called a cut yet, either. So, he settled on carefully watching you for signs. You also thought you could last until the scene was over—until you couldn’t.

The last thing you remember was a figure rushing over to you before your sight went pitch black.

“Y/N!”

“Cut!”

Seungmin felt his heart race as he dashed over to catch you from crashing to the ground. What was going on? You were completely fine a while ago. How did you end up fainting? Could it have been the heat? He didn’t think it was going to be that bad for you since he was dealing with it pretty well. The heat wasn’t exactly unbearable. So what was it?

“Actor Kim Seungmin,” D.O.P. Bang called out. “We should take her to the medic tent. Someone, call her manager.”

Seungmin had never agreed more to a suggestion in his life.

“Seungmin? What’s—” Minho’s face paled in shock at the sight of your limp figure. “Oh, shit. That’s why everyone is running around like headless chickens. Quick, let’s get her to the medics.”

Minho sped over to give the actor a helping hand on steadying you, only to be stopped. “We’re wasting so much time.” Seungmin clicks his tongue.

Everyone could only watch as Seungmin positioned his arms on your back and behind your knees, hastily pulling you up towards him in a bridal carry and speeding away to the medic’s tent. Minho’s jaw dropped at his talent’s actions before recovering from the shock and tailing him.

“Seungmin!”

“What?” Seungmin responds half-heartedly as he sets you down on the cushioned stretcher, stepping back as the medics do their job.

“You—” Minho squeaks out. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That!” He gestured towards you, still unconscious and being checked on by the medics on standby. “Did you just carry Actress Y/N?”

Seungmin ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “And what about it? Did I commit a crime or something? I was just helping!”

Minho was conflicted. In all the years he had been working as Seungmin’s manager, the actor had never shown this much attention towards his other co-workers, despite maintaining an approachable and friendly image. Of course, that wasn’t particularly a bad thing—especially in an industry where caution towards everyone around you was basic common sense to prevent yourself from going down a road that would lead to your demise. The view was great up where it was high, but the fall was just as immense.

What Minho did acknowledge was your past with Seungmin. Because of that, he was inclined to think more about your friendship with his talent and how that played into your dynamic. Yet, over the course of the two days you two had been filming, he hasn’t exactly seen the kind of relationship he was expecting. There were discrepancies in what he knew about you and Seungmin, as well as gaps in the bond his actor painted a picture of. In times like these, there were only a few reasonable explanations that Minho could think of, which made him uneasy.

Something big was coming in the future—one that he needed to prepare for as early as now.

Hurried footsteps could be heard nearing the tent as Seungmin and Minho diverted their lines of sight towards the entrance, just in time to see a fairly muscular figure come in all frantic. “How is she?”

Minho immediately recognized the man from a conversation he had in the personal staff area, recalling his introduction as your manager. The former bowed slightly in greeting. “Manager Seo Changbin.” Seungmin felt his blood boil after seeing your manager’s late entrance.

“Where even were you?” He asked coldly, intentionally making his tone sharp. “You know, for her manager, you sure are practically nowhere to be found during shoots.”

Changbin splutters at the accusation. “Y/N doesn’t like it when I stay to watch! She says it’s pressuring!”

“Sure. But it’s your job to be on standby in the event that she needs you. How come you weren’t?”

“I—”

“Okay, that’s enough.” A new face entered the space, who Seungmin quickly made out to be Assistant Director Lee. The second-in-hand gave him a disapproving look. “Actor Kim Seungmin, please stop lashing out at Actress Y/N’s manager.”

Seungmin felt like he was seconds away from committing arson. “I’m not lashing out if it's a reasonable argument!”

He felt someone grab a hold of him, forcefully pushing him down to sit. It was only then that Seungmin seemed to finally be conscious of how emotionally he had been acting—accepting Minho’s foresight on his actions. Assistant Director Lee, on the other hand, did not appreciate his recklessness.

“That it is, but we’re going to need you to stay calm,” he states. “The situation is sensitive enough as it is.”

Seungmin felt like he had no choice but to agree. He couldn’t risk making an unreasonable scene in such a respected project set, and knowing you, a tension-filled tent wasn’t going to be your preferred area of rest. Glancing back at your unconscious figure still being tended to, he let out a sigh to release the extra pressure in his chest.

Just what was he doing right now?

Once Assistant Director Lee saw him calm down a significant amount, he clapped to disperse the heavy silence. “Great. Now, can someone inform us when she wakes up so we can restart the shoot?”

So much for calming down, because Seungmin’s temper flared up again in an instant. “Are you kidding me?” He growled. “No, we are not proceeding with filming today!”

“Actor Kim, we don’t have enough time—”

“I’ll pay for all the expenses for the extension and rescheduling of all the remaining shoots. Put all of it under my personal bank account.”

Minho’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets in shock. “Seungmin, what—”

“I said what I said,” Seungmin continued. “Now go do it. Both of us won’t step in front of the camera for the rest of the day.”

“You can’t just decide that for Actress Y/N,” Assistant Director Lee reasoned in disbelief.

Unluckily for him, Seungmin had already made up his mind—and when that happens, he isn’t one to give up on it.

“Then we’ll tell her it’s cancelled because I’m sure as hell won’t be filming today. You can’t make her act out the scenes prepared today without me.”

Assistant Director Lee was conflicted. Taking a day off so suddenly when they’d already had everything set up was going to be such a waste—and frankly, Director Han was already on edge about it. Granted, this wasn’t the first time he’d come across this situation, and certainly won’t be the last in his time in the industry. Now, an actor telling them that they’d pay for the cost of their demand? That one was new.

Kim Seungmin was notorious in the field for being a perfectionist, so he honestly came in here expecting him to agree with their plan. Maybe he should’ve considered the rumors he’d heard around the set that Actor Kim and you were closer than they initially thought. With that, Assistant Director Lee could only sigh. He’d just have to deal with Director Han’s displeasure.

Along with being a perfectionist, Kim Seungmin was also incredibly stubborn.

“I understand,” he concedes. “I’ll inform Director Han.”

Seungmin tried not to show his surprise on his face. He didn’t think he’d actually get this result so easily, but it was welcomed. “Thank you.”

“Let us know if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

Assistant Director Lee chuckled at Seungmin’s firm reply before announcing his leave. The atmosphere in the tent improved as he stepped out, but awkwardness still lingered in the air. Minho dropped down to slump on a plastic chair, leaving Changbin to stand stiffly near him.

“Y/N is totally gonna kill you, dude.” Minho groans, completely letting go of formalities in stress.

Seungmin had half the mind to be embarrassed by his choices. “And to think I’m doing this all for her sake,” he scoffs good-naturedly before turning to your manager. “Did something happen before the shoot? She couldn’t have passed out like this just because of the heat today.”

Changbin scratches at his neck. “Uh, I’m not sure—”

“—It’s exhaustion,” one of the medics spoke up. “Her body seems to be completely fatigued, as well as slightly dehydrated, but that must be the heat’s contribution. Has she not been getting enough rest?”

They watched as Changbin’s face morphed into shock, completely unsure of how that could’ve even happened. “But she said she was going to bed early yesterday!”

Your manager was slowly getting on Seungmin’s nerves. First, it was his constant absence from the set. Next, it was his blatant disregard for your well-being. The last time he checked, a manager was supposed to be aware of their talent’s condition as much as possible. Any less and it would be neglect.

He narrowed his eyes. “The picture you’re painting for me is not a good one, Manager Seo.”

“What are you implying right now, Actor Kim?” Changbin pounced back, Seungmin’s tone stirring negative emotions inside him.

Seungmin refused to back down. “You know damn well.”

“Kim Seungmin!”

“Watch your mouth—”

A rustling noise interrupted the three men’s small disagreement. “Ugh,” you groaned in pain. “What in the world?”

“Y/N!” Seungmin jumps up without a second thought to rush over. In the distance, Minho and Changbin’s eyes meet in mutual speculation.

“Seungmin, sorry, but please shut up.” You raise a hand to cradle your head. “My head is pounding.”

You could vaguely make up a medic handing Seungmin some pills and a bottle of water, saying something about how you were stable enough to just need rest and hydration. The next thing you knew was feeling a hand gently take your chin to create an opening and a pill being dropped inside, along with a water bottle pressing against your lips. You gulped it down in shock.

“The fuck—” You coughed. Another hand came up again to wipe some of the water you spilled around your mouth before you pushed it away. “Kim Seungmin!”

Your co-star rolled his eyes at your dramatics. “Would it kill you to stop being so fussy?”

“Not when you’re treating me like a child!”

Changbin clears his throat, effectively stopping your bickering. “Uh—I’m going to go get us lunch,” he meekly informs you two. “The medics also already went out to get food earlier, so I think we need to get our share before it’s all gone.”

Minho nods at Changbin’s words a bit too enthusiastically for your liking. “I’ll come with him. You two can talk while waiting.”

The two of you watch as your managers dash out of the tent like cartoon characters, raising a suspicious brow at their sudden change in behavior. Seungmin clicked his tongue in annoyance before turning back to you and flicking a finger at your forehead without warning. You squealed at the added pain as Seungmin’s suppressed laughter filled the room.

“You are such an asshole!” You shriek while bringing both hands to shield your forehead belatedly.

“And your hair looks like a nest,” he replies with a snicker.

You gave him a glare at his comment, rubbing the sore spot gently. “Shit,” you whined, feeling the ache from inside your head again. “I can’t believe I fainted. How long was I out? What about the shoot? Are we resuming after lunch?”

The questions you were asking him only served as Seungmin’s reminder of his actions earlier, causing his mouth to run dry. Truth be told, even he was unsure of how to tell you everything that happened while you were away in dreamland. He couldn’t just drop the ball at you that he made sure that the shoot had been cancelled just for you to have the rest of the day to rest up. At the same time, there was practically no other way to convince you that the cancellation wasn’t your fault unless he told you the truth.

But Seungmin had already caused you enough misunderstandings to last a decade—and he wasn’t about to add another one.

“You weren’t out for long,” he told you. “I’m actually surprised you even woke up right away. The shoot’s cancelled.”

He watched you pause to let the words sink in. What did he mean by the shoot’s been cancelled? Wouldn’t that be too costly? After all, you were literally renting a place far away from the city to shoot this movie. A shoot cancellation meant an extension, which also meant new arrangements needed to be made. You curled up into a ball, wanting to evaporate into the clouds at the heat of the sun. How much more were you going to screw up everyone’s experience with this project?

“Is it because of me?” You muttered.

Seungmin felt something inside him break at how small you made yourself seem. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid, only to once again fail to prevent it. That one was on him, though—he didn’t manage to tell you right away that he was the one responsible for the shoot’s cancellation. He felt the need to chase away your negative headspace as fast as possible.

“Why do you always blame yourself first? I cancelled the shoot, so just get some more rest.” He sighs.

Your eyes snap upwards to meet his. He had got to joking. “What?” You ask, bewildered at the statement. “And they agreed? I can still continue!”

Seungmin immediately acts to lift your legs back up on the stretcher when he sees you trying to get up. He places a heavy hand on your calves to lock them in place before sending you an unamused stare. “Land a single foot out of this stretcher, and I’ll make sure the shoot gets moved to next week.”

“You can’t just do that!” Your mouth gaped open like a fish. “Do you even know how bad the cost is going to be to extend for that long?”

“I’m more than capable of shouldering the expenses.”

That single statement made your stomach drop. “You cannot be serious,” was your horrified reaction. “Seungmin, did you pay for the extension costs?”

The man before you only shrugged, like he hadn’t just dropped significant information. “What about it?” You blanched at his unconcerned attitude.

“What do you mean, what about it?” You asked, absolutely outraged. “I swear, you’ve always been like this! You think you could just play around with everything around you, since you can. Why can’t you take things seriously for once?”

It was Seungmin’s turn to look offended. “Now, when did I ever do that?”

“The charity drama!” You cry out. “Yeah, I knew all about your little plan back then. If you acted well enough, they wouldn’t pay attention to whatever mess I was making, was it? I even overheard you telling your friends you chose me to become the female lead just because you were curious about how I kept advancing levels when I barely met the standard—and there I was foolish enough to believe that you chose me for my skills!”

“I—” Seungmin stammers. “I don’t remember that.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” you held back a sob, feeling emotional as you poured out your inner insecurities. “Why would you? Someone of your caliber could go around bending things to your will, and no one would bat an eye since they would justify it with your talent. I’m the complete opposite, Seungmin.”

Seungmin was quite alarmed, to say the least. These were your side of the story—the side that he never got to acknowledge. He could only watch you try to keep yourself together in front of him, clearly struggling as your emotions ran wild at the release of what seemed to be years of suppressed experiences. His body was screaming at him to move and comfort you in any way he knew how, but for the first time in his life, Seungmin was completely frozen in guilt.

“I’ve lived the life below people like you. We were the ones that were always stuck in the shadows, where stepping on us became the norm. People like us were the pieces in your games of chess who couldn’t even speak out in the fear of being thrown out.” You inhaled deeply before meeting his gaze. “It was a life you would never even begin to imagine experiencing at your ability, Seungmin.”

Your words were like spears thrown at Seungmin’s heart. They all rang true in his head. He would never understand what you went through because he was part of the problem. Seungmin thought back to his past, trying to recall where it all started.

He was a young child, only ten years old, when he discovered his passion for acting. His class decided to do a play for the school festival, and he got the role of the main character completely by chance through drawing lots. Young Seungmin didn’t think of it too much and agreed out of obligation. It wasn’t until practices started that he started to take an interest in it after receiving constant praise from his classmates and homeroom teacher. This fascination only bloomed more on the day of the festival, where he found out that performing for people could be this exhilarating.

From then on, Seungmin made it his lifelong dream to become an actor. Seeing his talent in the field, his parents supported him wholeheartedly, eventually leading to them suggesting he join an acting academy to improve. The praises didn’t stop even after he joined the academy—in fact, they only doubled in frequency, making Seungmin come to the conclusion that he must’ve been some sort of prodigy. Perhaps it was due to that mindset of his that he paraded around like the world was his. To his defense, none of the adults around him saw the wrong in his behavior and even went as far as encouraging it.

It was when he graduated from the academy and started his work as a professional actor that he got humbled by all the talent around him. Everyone seemed to be on his level or greater, which completely shattered his worldview. During those times in his rookie years, he learned the importance of hard work and how much it could really make a difference. There was one time that he thought to himself—maybe this was the reason he felt so attracted to you.

You were the first person he ever associated with the difference that hard work brought. Seungmin first noticed you on the first day of intermediate level. He had gotten to that level first and thus kept an eye out for notable candidates from the beginner level. The thing is, he had never even heard of you or any of your performances—so it was a complete surprise to see you climb up to intermediate level. From then on, he observed you from afar, never really approaching. To him, you seemed plain; someone who didn’t even exude star quality. So eventually, he forgot all about you again.

Until he saw your name on the same paper as his, indicating that both of you would be in the same batch that got promoted to junior level.

The charity drama was another project Seungmin gained an unexpected opportunity from. With the privilege given to him as the top ranker for the year-end evaluations, he chose you as his female lead. All Seungmin wanted was to see what kind of shine you had as an actor, and he was rewarded greatly with your stellar performance after days of painful practices. When you were once again bumped up to senior level right alongside him, he was ecstatic. You had changed since the charity drama, and your aura started to take up more space in their small practice room. Seungmin wanted to get closer to you, but the two of you would only end up clashing every time. He guesses that you and him were just complete opposites in everything, down to your work ethic. He still tried to interact with you in any way he knew how, though—which led to his friends teasing him about his little crush on you.

Now, he couldn’t help but think that maybe they were right.

Seungmin pulled his hand away from your calves, letting his hands fall down on his sides before bowing deeply. “I’m sorry. There would be no excuse for my actions, and it’s even worse that I have no recollection of the details when I’ve obviously affected someone. I know an apology wouldn’t erase everything that has already happened, but it would be the start of my attempts to make sure it doesn’t happen again. At this point, all I can ask for is your forgiveness.”

You quickly reached out to grasp his arms, trying to pull him up from his act of remorse. “Get up—oh my god. It’s fine, Seungmin. Really. I’ve already forgiven you yesterday, honestly. My behavior also had some faults towards you, and it was unacceptable.”

“Knowing why now, I think it was more than reasonable.”

You let out a laugh at his words. “You’re just trying to make me feel better,” you teased. “Now, I think the other crew members also deserve an apology from us.” Seungmin’s face paled at the reminder. Just imagining Assistant Director Lee scolding him for his audacity earlier was sending him into early retirement.

“Yeah,” he coughs. “But can we not take back the shoot cancellation? It would be so awkward for me if we did, and you still need the rest.”

“Fine, you big baby.” You pinched his cheek after seeing his childish pout. Seungmin was quick to swat your hand away, despite the burning sensation he could feel heating up his ears. “So does this mean we’re friends?”

Even if he could feel a crack form in his heart from your innocent words, Seungmin refused to show it.

“Sure. Friends.”

06 : SIX.

Being friends with Seungmin was odd.

Granted, you already got a taste of what that felt like for the two days that flew by since you two decided on a truce. However, you didn’t really feel much of a change in your dynamic in those two days—not until things took a turn after your conversation in the medic tent.

After your little heart-to-heart session, Seungmin had begun acting strangely. And by strangely, you meant becoming a complete one-eighty from the Kim Seungmin you were used to. It was almost like he was replaced by a softer, more warm-hearted version of himself. In one talk, you were suddenly subject to his endless affection, albeit still exhibiting the Kim Seungmin flare that you were comfortable with. Overall, it was just weird to think that four days ago, the two of you were fighting like cats and dogs. Now, you watched him bounce up and down as he gave himself a pep talk to prepare for the kissing scene.

“Are you that nervous?”

Seungmin flinches at your question, seemingly not expecting your voice to enter his head while he was seconds away from a meltdown. Your co-star looks at you sheepishly. “Is that bad? This is driving me insane.”

That was another thing different about Seungmin after the medic tent incident. He acted a lot more endearingly in your eyes. You faintly recall a comment you made a few days ago about how Seungmin would never be akin to a small bird who deserved to be doted on. But seeing the Seungmin in front of you right now, you might just take back your words.

Kim Seungmin had a lot more layers than you thought—and you found yourself wanting to uncover them all.

“I’m sure this isn’t your first kiss on camera,” you snort. “Just go do it like you usually do. Act like how your character would act in the moment. You have my whole consent, anyway.”

Seungmin wanted to tell you how much you didn’t understand his dilemma right now. In all fairness, even he was somewhat unsure of what was happening to him the past few days. All he did know was that he was right in what he thought during the first day of filming—he really did feel like he was turning younger in front of you.

It was almost embarrassing how easily he slipped into that carefree attitude around you, especially after your conversation in the medic tent. He was doing so well up until then, so what happened? Seungmin couldn’t be more curious about his own actions. He did have an inkling of what it was, but he needed more proof to act on it. Seungmin couldn’t risk becoming more of an idiot in your eyes. You already had too much of that experience with him during your filming yesterday, which was the rescheduled shoot of the one he demanded to pause.

That also meant that this was the last day you two had on set together before everyone packed their bags and headed back to the city. After that, it would be just him again on set to film the movie’s first scenes of his character.

Seungmin wasn’t disappointed. He totally wasn’t.

“What are you going to do if I lose control and give into my character, huh?” He argues. You stopped reading your script to give him an unamused stare.

“Seriously?” You scoffed. “If you really must know, then I wouldn’t do anything. If that’s what the male lead feels, then the female lead just needs to reciprocate if they’re really in love with each other. As their actors, we need to deliver those same emotions.”

You didn’t get what was making Seungmin so on edge about the scene. Reviewing his past works, this certainly wouldn’t be his first on-screen kiss, nor was it his first romance project as the male lead. What made you so different from his other co-stars that was making him act like a rookie?

“If anything, I should be more nervous than you. This is actually my first kiss scene!”

“That’s just even worse!” Seungmin whines, burying his face in his hands. “This is gonna be terrible.”

It was then that you finally had an idea as to why Seungmin looked like he was having a mid-life crisis this early in his life.

You felt a grin creep up on your face and paste itself there. “Did you want this to be a good memory for me?”

Seungmin groans at your poking. “Stop teasing me! So what if I do? Did I commit a crime, huh?”

“The crime of stealing my heart, yes.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Thank you,” you laugh. “I try my best.”

Seungmin mutters something beneath his breath—something you couldn’t hear because of Director Han calling for the two of you. He watched as you skipped away, leaving him to follow in your footsteps. Seungmin smiled at the picture painted in front of him.

“I know.”

You stopped at your designated place in front of the camera, turning back to look at Seungmin beside you, who was already sweating bullets. Your hand unconsciously lifts up to wipe them off, which startles the both of you. Seungmin opens his mouth to say something but was cut off by Director Han’s loud voice.

“Alright!” He claps. “This is our last scene for the day before we call it a wrap! I’m sure you two already know what it is, so all I’ll say is don't think too much about this. Enjoy it, or whatever you want to do—as long as it looks natural. Sounds good?” The two of you nod at him.

“Okay, camera starts at three,” he says, motioning towards D.O.P. Bang. “Two, one. Action!”

You took the opportunity to appreciate the scenery around you as the camera started rolling. The scene was set on a hill with a breathtaking view of the rest of the town. Hues of orange and pink start to tint the surroundings as the sun sets in the background. It was nothing less than ethereal, and you almost envied the female lead for having this moment in her life.

“I’ve always wanted to take someone here,” Seungmin says, reciting his lines. “When I was younger, I told myself that I was going to bring my true love here and propose. It was unfortunate that I moved away—this was my favorite spot in the whole world.”

You let yourself completely immerse in the situation. “Propose, huh? I’m sure the lucky person would love it up here. It’s so serene, like it's taking away all your stress just by being here.”

Seungmin gently grabs your hand into his, making you turn to meet his eyes. You almost gasped out of character after seeing the immense amount of love swirling in his gaze. Love looked great on him, you pointed out in your head. One day, Seungmin was going to look at someone else with the same gaze—someone that he loved with all his heart. A tinge of hot green jealousy burned in your stomach at the thought.

Part of you yearned for someone to look at you even just a fourth of the way Seungmin portrayed the male lead’s longing for the female lead. But for now, you had a role to fulfill. You could just lock these feelings up for later.

“Do you?” He asks. Your breath hitches at his question. “I’m not proposing—well, not yet. But I brought you here for a similar reason.”

Seungmin reaches for your other hand, now holding both of them. “I love you so much. I know our time together hasn’t been the longest, but it seems like my heart has found its way back home. Honestly, I first thought that it was just because I was back in town, but eventually I realized that I felt at home with you too.” He caresses your knuckles with his thumbs. “Maybe my heart knew where it belonged long before I did. I loved you back then, just like I love you now.”

You couldn’t help but genuinely tear up at Seungmin’s monologue. It was such a beautiful feeling to be loved, and you hoped that someday you could experience the same kind of love you acted with. “So, I’ll ask you this question,” Seungmin continued.

“Will you be mine?”

“Yes,” you sobbed out.

Seungmin lifts his hands to cup your crying face, bringing you closer to his own. The moment your lips connected felt so magical that you ended up leaning in more, savoring the moment with your fluttering heart. Seungmin reciprocates the act, kissing you with more emotion than he did just a second ago. His lips felt like smooth pillows, coaxing you to release all the tension you had left and rest—with him. Seungmin was being careful yet passionate at the same time, leaving you to drown in the sheer magnitude of the butterflies.

You couldn’t help but love every passing second that you were lost on his lips.

When you two pulled away due to the lack of air, he kept his forehead to yours, noses touching. The soft sound of both your laughter filled the surrounding area.

“Cut! That’s a wrap for today!” You hear everyone start cheering at Director Han’s words. Seungmin chuckles at them as he slowly steps back, missing the way your body followed after his warmth.

“Congratulations,” he says gently. You felt your heart skip a beat. “Your first on-screen kiss, done. How did I do?”

Oh, this was going to be dangerous for your heart.

07 : SEVEN.

There’s been an empty feeling in your heart since yesterday that you were trying to ignore.

It was currently the day after you returned to the city. You watched the bustling streets of urban life filter through the car’s tinted windows while Changbin continued to drive you back home after a busy day in the company. Something you had never expected to happen was getting attached to the small countryside town you filmed in enough to miss it like this.

You felt it when you stepped out of the car yesterday to head back to your apartment—the polished concrete floors of the parking building suddenly felt foreign to you. The abundance of luxury cars was evident in the space, reminding you that you were once again in the city. It felt almost cold and lonely with the way you couldn’t see the hills you got used to seeing all day long. But it would do, you think to yourself.

The city could also be warm if you wanted it to be.

“Oh? I think they’re filming the first scenes of the movie in a building around here,” Changbin pointed out from the driver’s seat. “Minho mentioned this street a day ago.”

You raised a brow at his words. “Since when did you and Seungmin’s manager get so close?”

“Ever since you and his talent did,” Changbin snickers.

Heat rose to your face at your manager’s teasing. It was no secret to anyone who witnessed the movie’s shoot that you and Seungmin got extremely close after the fainting incident. You were sure that his efforts to stop the filming from continuing that day was also the talk of the town with the crew members. After all, who would go so far as to pay for rescheduling costs for their co-star? Sure, you and Seungmin were friends, but the two of you were barely talking in the first few days of the project. Anyone in their right mind would find his actions out of the blue—just like you did too.

Maybe it was just Seungmin’s way of making up for all the things you both went through. At first, it made you mad at how he flaunted his blatant disregard for the people affected by his decisions. The image of younger Seungmin came to mind, triggering the part of you that still held a slight resentment for what he did before. However, you found yourself slowly changing your mind as you two apologized to the crew members for the sudden decision, promising them swift and quality scenes the next day. As Seungmin walked you back to your inn’s room, you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of happiness bubble in your stomach at the thought of someone caring enough to do this for you.

You watched as the evident signs of a film crew appeared in the distance, right in front of an office building. The same tents you’ve come to familiarize yourself with stood strong, indicating that this was indeed filming the same movie you were working on. It was already early in the evening, so they should be wrapping up any time soon. Should you stop by and say hello?

“Do you want to stop by and visit? You don’t have any schedules left for the rest of the evening,” Changbin suggests, getting ready to park near the building if you give confirmation.

Maybe you could repay Seungmin for his support over the past few days by visiting him. You smile at the thought of catching him off-guard.

“Sure, why not?”

The summer air of June was starting to make itself present despite already cooling significantly due to the sun saying its goodbyes an hour or two ago. Bright lights scattered across the vast street, a mixture of car lights, building lights, and streetlights morphing into the familiar image of a city that everyone knew. You walked towards the set peacefully, effectively going under the radar with a black mask covering your face. It was just a few steps more until you reached the barricade, when a familiar voice called out your name.

“Y/N?” Eunha squinted her eyes to determine if it really was you, only for you to watch them widen in surprise when her conclusion was proven correct. “Oh, it is you!”

You waved as you got closer. “Hi, Eunha. I saw you guys while passing by and thought I’d give you a visit,” you say shyly. Eunha beamed at your explanation.

“That’s so sweet of you; you’re always welcomed here!” She gives you a hug, quickly separating to drag you over the barricade. “Come on, I’ll show you to the others.”

Witnessing the set as a visitor was interesting. Despite the multiple people that greeted you on the way, it still felt as if you were an outsider with a V.I.P. pass to tour the set. Normally, you would be somewhere near the center, where the main scene was going to be shot. So staying back and watching the other crew members do their own things on the outskirts of that area was a new experience. In a way, you felt giddy like a child on a field trip.

“Actress Y/N is here!”

Eunha’s ecstatic voice traveled throughout the main area of the set, catching the attention of the directors, who had a figure you knew all too well standing right beside them. His eyes snapped up from the monitor D.O.P. Bang was showing him, eyes searching around for yours. Once he caught sight of your face, his eyes lit up.

“Y/N?”

If anyone asks, you totally weren’t checking him out. The clean black office suit he was wearing was incredibly flattering on his features, along with the formal brush-up the hairstylists put his hair in. You had only seen him with his hair down for the past few days—with his character supposedly portraying the look of someone who was comfortably back home to rest. And while that Seungmin was also objectively handsome, the way his hair was framing his face right now was stirring something more inside of you. Swallowing the feeling away, you straightened yourself.

“Hi, Seungmin.” You laughed. “Missed me?”

Seungmin abandoned his post with the directors and sped towards you. “Why are you here? It’s getting late,” he says, worried. Seungmin lets his eyes wander behind you for a second before a frown finds its way to his face. “And where’s that damned manager of yours?” You sighed at his obvious complaint.

“When are you going to let down on Changbin?” You say, unamused. “I swear, he means well. I came from the company, so he’s guarding the car since it’s just on hazard.”

“Still—” Seungmin tries to argue, only to be cut off by you waving your finger like he had been a bad child.

“Stop that. We talked about your coddling.”

He clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Maybe I’d stop once you actually learn how to take care of yourself.”

A series of claps interrupted the conversation you two were having. “Okay, break it up, lovebirds,” Minho says while inserting himself between you two. “It’s so nice to see you again, Actress Y/N. But we have a crew celebration dinner to attend, so I’ll borrow Seungmin first over here.”

Your co-star resists his manager, staying firmly on spot to prove a point. “Wait, I’ll walk her back to her car first.” Minho gave him an odd look.

“What do you mean walk her back?” He questions. “She’s attending. You just need to get changed out of that suit.” It was your turn to look confused.

“Huh?”

That was how you suddenly found yourself sitting at a long barbecue restaurant table with the other female crew members, silently listening to their energetic conversations while downing as much meat as you could. You didn’t know if this was a curse or a blessing in disguise, but you would surely regret it if you didn’t make the most of what was handed to you. Free food is still free food, even if it was a sponteneous invitation from the directors.

“I’m so happy we finished filming!” The woman assigned to your makeup, Yerin, said aloud. “Now it's those computer bastards’ turn to slave away.”

You couldn’t help but feel guilty for a portion of her hardships. “Once again, I apologize for all the trouble I caused you on set.” You slightly bowed while still sitting. “Hopefully, it will be better the next time we get to work together.” Yerin only waved off your apology.

“Oh, please—don’t be such a worrywart! Having you on set was a delight,” she squeals. “Plus, we had a blast seeing the development between you and Actor Kim Seungmin.” Eunha’s face quickly turned into one of horror.

“Yerin!”

You paled at her words. “I’m sorry, what?”

What did she mean by that? The inside of your mind turned into a battlefield at Yerin’s implication. Your eyes immediately turned to search for Changbin, feeling the need to inform him of a possible issue in the near future. In your experience in the industry, scandals always started like this. You didn’t want this to affect Seungmin’s career negatively, so it was always better to prepare early than late.

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N,” Eunha frantically says, trying to get a hold of her co-worker. “She’s just drunk.”

Yerin pushed her hands away, albeit weakly. “Eunha, stop being such a party pooper,” she whines. “We all know they’re dating now. Oh, our crew has tight lips, though! We won’t sell you guys or something.” That didn’t ease the panic that had already formed in your stomach.

“We’re not dating.”

You could only watch as Yerin’s showed genuine shock at your revelation. “Wait, for real?” She gasps. “That’s too bad. You two look great together!”

“Yerin, seriously!”

“Sorry, I’ll just go get some fresh air.” You excused yourself as politely as you could before standing up to head out the front door.

The now-cooled air pricked at your skin, making you breathe a bit more easily than in the humid interior of the restaurant. You lowered yourself to the narrow road’s curbside, choosing to sit down and admire the quiet neighborhood’s lights. It felt a lot better out here than inside, making you feel guilty for not enjoying the celebration more than you should have as one of the main characters for the project.

If you had refused, it would’ve been a bad look. You didn’t have a schedule for the night to use as a reason, and lying to the people who gave you the opportunity to work on your biggest project yet was out of the question. At the same time, you think of what you would’ve been doing instead if you had said no to their dinner offer. Laying down in your apartment while eating takeout wasn’t such a bad scene. The sliding of the aged wooden door brought you out of your thoughts.

“See? Just what I said,” a monotonous voice pointed out. “No self-preservation skills whatsoever.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment. “It’s just the outside of a family-owned barbecue establishment, Seungmin. There’s practically no one out here at this time.”

“Does that not make it worse?” He gave you a look of disapproval, crouching down slowly to join you on the curbside. “You have a knack for making people worry, do you?”

“Then stop worrying!” You snapped—his words reminding you of the situation you had just fled from to find peace.

Seungmin raised his hands in surrender. “Woah,” he exclaims. “Alright, something is clearly wrong. Talk to me.”

You could only turn away, feeling yourself unable to face him. It was an awkward subject to bring up, and you told yourself that Yerin had already promised that the crew was tight-lipped. Objectively, there was nothing more left for you to worry about. Subjectively, the implication bothered you. Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows at your reaction.

“Hey,” he calls out softly. “Did someone say something to you back there? You know I can beat them up, right?”

You grimaced at his attempts to comfort you. “You’re so violent,” you frowned. “What if it was a woman?”

“Oh, then I’m out of that. Sorry.”

“So full of shit, that’s what you are.”

Seungmin chuckled. “And that I am,” he replies, amused. “But seriously, I’m all ears if you want.”

A bitter taste announced its presence on your tongue, your mind forming a whirlpool of thoughts once again. “Why? Since we’re friends?” You spat out.

The space around you turned silent with Seungmin’s lack of response. You fought the urge to give him a discrete glance, just to see the damage you created. It took a few more seconds of the evening breeze being the only one talking between you two before Seungmin eventually spoke up.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” he says in a low voice while running a hand through his hair to pull it back. His hairstyle from earlier was long gone, leaving you to wonder how he got rid of the hairspray so easily. “I actually don’t like that we’re friends.”

He watched as you deflated rapidly at his confession.

“Not in that way!” Seungmin splutters. “It’s just that I—ugh.” He brought up a palm to rub across his face.

Now, you were lost. The path of where the conversation was going became lost to you, making you stand in uncharted territory. Seungmin stayed silent for a few more seconds, trying to collect his thoughts. You let him have the time.

“You might curse at me for this or even put a distance between ourselves. But since this is our last day seeing each other on set until the movie’s release, I’ll take the chance now before I end up regretting I didn’t.”

“Seungmin, what—”

“The thought of staying just friends with you has been bothering me for a while now. It was like I was subjecting myself to my own personalized torture, where I couldn’t get away even if I tried. I’m still not sure what this entirely means for me—for us, but what I know is that platonic would never satisfy me at this rate.” He purses his lips, contemplating how to continue.

Eventually, Seungmin raised his head slightly to meet your eyes. “It’s odd. Admittedly, I’ve had my fair share of romantic relationships in the past, yet none of them could compare to what I was feeling now. At first, I thought it was just an obsession with you. Something that stemmed from my previous interest in you back at our senior level of academy—”

“You had a what?”

“I know,” he laughs humorlessly. “My friends used to tease me that I had a crush; that was why I was bothering you so much. Back then, I just brushed them off as jokes, telling them I only saw you as a rival. Well, look where that ended up.”

You were frozen in shock at his confession. “Seungmin,” you start. “I don’t know what to say.” He shakes his head.

“You don’t have to. Just let me have this moment to pour everything out,” he says. “Y/N, to put it into words, I feel at ease when I’m with you. At the same time, it always felt as if I was constantly worried about when it would end. That I would be left on my own again once you had finished your business with me. I tried to reason with myself, to put an acceptable distance between us in the case that what I had wasn’t the best for you. But I couldn’t do it, Y/N. Every time your voice entered my ears, it was like becoming a child. Unable to control their emotions and doing things without a second thought just because it felt like the right thing to do at the moment.” Seungmin looks up to the sky.

“That kiss we had—I think it was the happiest I’ve been in a while. It might have been just a job to you, because you could say it really was, but for me, it was finally a chance to express everything I had been holding back for the past few days. All I want you to remember is that nothing from that act was faked,” he exhales. “I really don’t think this is something you feel for a friend, so—”

“Let’s see where this takes us.”

“—What?”

“I’m not sure how you expect me to top what you just told me, but I’ll try with my own words.” You teased him with a genuine smile. “Seungmin, I feel strikingly similar to what you feel about me. Just maybe not as intensely yet.”

You let yourself move at the need to cup his face as he continues to look at you in shock. “I’m sure you already know that I spent quite a long time hating your guts, so the fact that I even started to feel an attraction towards you was shocking, to say the least. I was never one to believe in fictional tropes, despite my lifelong yearning to experience a love like that even once. As an actor, I’ve made a career out of acting those scenes out for people to see. But also as an actor, I knew more than anyone else how much real life would never be able to compare to the scripts I’ve seen brought to life on set. They were methodological, a feeling so carefully put together to achieve its maximum potential—real life isn’t like that.” You inhale deeply.

“Things happen for no reason, like they don’t for no reason either. And in a way, I felt both with you.” Your hands lowered themselves towards his hands to hold them tightly. “Enemies-to-lovers? It was laughable at first, but as the days went on, everything just fell into place as if it always belonged there. You feel like a child in front of me? I feel like I’ve never felt warmth in my entire life until you came along. When I first got out of the car yesterday, it was only then that I described urban life as cold and lonely in my entire life. I thought that maybe it was because I got too attached to the homey feel of the countryside that everything I’ve ever known somehow became foreign in a few days. But maybe it was just because of you.”

You found yourself giggling at the dumbfounded look he still had on his face, mind slow to take in what was happening in front of him. “What I’m saying is that I would love to see where this takes us. Right now, you can’t expect me to fall in love all of a sudden, especially considering our past. Though if you try hard enough, perhaps that might be just around the corner. What do you say?” Seungmin finally broke free from his trance, eyes watering.

“I’ll show you hard work that you’ve never seen before in your life.”

“And I believe it.” You pinch his cheek before standing up. “Now, let’s go back inside? The party is still ongoing.”

Seungmin clumsily follows, calling out just in time before you opened the door. “Wait—I still don’t have your number.” You gave him an astounded stare.

“Seriously?” You breathe out. “We went through all that, and we still don’t have each other’s numbers?”

Seungmin voices out his offense. “Well, I’m sorry that I was missing all my shots!”

“So, does that mean you’re gonna take a shot now, loverboy?”

“For you, yes.”

taglist 🔖— thank you for waiting ! 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @feelikecinderella @abbiestearsricochet @heelovesmeknot @floating-moon-dust @yoontaethings @hwangism143 @jazziesssss @hwangflora @vixensss @yourlocalstayyxi @dollce-exe @bambispostsblog @authentic-65 @dandelions-143

[mistiell]

Ok so, maybe you knew this already or maybe not, but... In the game, if you hover over Astarion's original outfit it says that it looks rather old and mended over several times. The running theory is that he's been reparing his own clothes (explains the cheeky embroidery in his underwear) , since we damn well know that Cazador would not give two hoots about it, and that poor baby has been running around in a 200 year old shirt and probably doesn't have much clothes with him. I just want something fluffy... maybe the reader always let's him have first dibs on whatever they find or even gets him new clothes. I just imagine him finding a brand new shirt on his tent that is soft and comfortable and I just want to weep in a corner 🥺

Can you help a sister out?

Here you are <33 (also, I'm so sorry this took so long lol) WC: 1.3k Also CW for potential spoilers

---

Astarion is slow to wake this morning, fully intending to lay with you in his tent as long as you’ll allow. Rolling over with his eyes still closed, he reaches to hook his arm around your waist only to grasp at nothing but air.

He’s certainly awake now.

It’s unusual to find you missing given he’s usually the first to wake between the two of you; two hundred years of living in The Underdark and only ever surfacing at night having apparently made him a little sensitive to light.

Sitting up and shifting onto his knees, he reaches to pull the tent flap back and peer out at the campfire. A small gust of the cool morning air sweeps over his bare torso, raising goosebumps over the skin of his arms despite the fact that he’s not really bothered by the cold. That little spike of anxiety dulls when he finds you haven’t strayed far; standing maybe fifteen feet away in conversation with Karlach.

As if you can sense him, you glance over and light up when you spot him peeking out of the tent, excusing yourself from the tiefling. He expects you to come straight over, but instead, you turn to grab a basket he hadn’t seen first.

He shuffles back to let you come inside, flushing a bit when you brush a few rogue curls from his face and bend to peck his hairline, “Good morning, handsome.”

“I- Good morning.” Is all he manages, still tired and a little stunned. Shifting off of his knees to sit cross-legged, he peers into the basket as you set it down in front of him and cocks a brow, “What’s this?”

“Clothes.”

“Well yes, I can see that, darling.” He sasses and you chortle, “But why have you brought me a basket of clothes?”

“I found it the last time we left camp.” He remembers that. You’d gone out with Karlach, Gale and Lae’zel and came back bloodied and bruised. He’d been so focused on getting you patched up that he hadn’t even thought of asking about what you might have found.

You clear your throat and glance away, smiling sheepishly, “I picked out some things I thought you’d like, but then I thought you might prefer to have a look through yourself, so,” You shrug and jerk your nose at the basket, “I brought you all of it.”

His heart would be stuttering in his chest if it could. Reaching into the pile, he thumbs over a few of the garments, feeling the different fabrics and looking over all the different colours. It’s been centuries since he’s had a choice in what to wear. Sure, he’s picked up some things throughout your travels but never so much all at once. It’s a little overwhelming, having all this to pick through after so long.

Taking hold of the basket, he pushes it closer to you, “Show me what you picked out first.”

“Oh,” Your heart rate spikes, and he smiles as you stutter out, “Are- Are you sure? I’m not sure you’d actually like what I picked out. That’s one of the reasons I brought you the whole basket.”

He scoffs and waves off the thought, “Nonsense. You could hand me the most distasteful outfit in all of Faerûn and I’d at least try it on for you.”

“Really?” “Of course I would.” He realises the implications of what he’s just said and tries to play off the sentiment with a puckish grin, gesturing towards himself, “It’s hard to not look good in something when you’re this beautiful.”

You laugh, eyes squinting shut with the force of your smile. “Yes, you truly are dashing, my love.”

“Stating the obvious, but I can’t complain,” You roll your eyes at him as he taps the sides of the basket, “Now, are you going to show me what you picked out? Or are you just going to sit here sing my praises? Personally, I’d be fine either way.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll get on with it,” Reaching into the clothes, your laughter tapers off as you glance back up at him timidly one last time, “But if you don’t like something, tell me, okay?”

He lays his palm flat against his sternum, all dramatics as he grins, “Cross my heart and hope to,” He pauses, before chuckling, “Well, die again, I suppose.”

He laughs when you shoot him a glare with no real malice behind it and tut disapprovingly.

He watches in quiet curiosity as you pull out a few items, explaining why you thought he’d like them as you go. Your reasons range from colours and patterns to embroidery and necklines, all of which are shockingly on par with his tastes. It appears you know him better than he thought you did.

“That’s about it, I think.” Your brows furrow in a way that is entirely too cute – especially for someone he’s watched eviscerate hoards of goblins – before you perk up with an excited gasp, “Oh! I almost forgot!”

Turning to look this way and that, you make a little sound of satisfaction when your gaze lands on your pack. Your shirt rides up a bit when you twist onto your knees to reach for it, and he stifles the urge to run his hand over the sliver skin it exposes. You rummage through a few pockets before finding what you’re looking for, returning to kneel in front of him with something hidden in your hand.

“Close your eyes.” You urge, and he does as you’ve asked.

“Ooh, saved the best for last, have you?” He grins, holding out his hands before you even ask.

You chuckle, sounding a little nervous, “Hopefully.”

He hears the tinkling of metal and nearly jumps when your hand makes contact with his, one cradling the backs of his while the other presses something small and rough into his palm.

“Open.” He can hear the smile in your voice as you say it.

On your command, he opens his eyes to find you’ve given him a necklace. The pendent is a little piece of a raw, orange crystal encircled by dainty gold rods that are bent to resemble branches.

“This is... beautiful.” He breathes, turning it over in his hand to admire the jagged edges, “What kind of crystal is it?”

“Sunstone.” He looks up at you then, finding a shy smile hung on your lips, “I know it’s a little on the nose but...,” You worry your bottom lip for a moment, clearly a little hesitant to continue, “I know you’re worried about... what’ll happen once the tadpoles are removed. So, I wanted to get you something just in case. It’s not the same thing, obviously, but I thought this way you can still figuratively have a little piece of the sun if,” Cutting yourself off, you glance away for a moment, “Well, if things don’t go the way we hope.”

He stares at you for a long moment, entirely unsure of what to say. He doesn’t think there’s anything he could say to convey just how much the gesture means to him.

Setting the necklace on his pillow, he draws you into his arms and weaves them tight around your waist. He pulls you to him so suddenly that your knees bump his shins, but you don’t seem to mind as you hook your arms around the back of his neck. His eyes burn as he murmurs against the side of your neck, “I love you.”

You card your fingers through his hair and he shudders, leaning further into you as you dot a few sweet kisses along the length of his shoulder.

“I love you too.” Your words are muddled as they’re mumbled into his skin, “More than you know.”

Maybe he didn’t before, but he thinks he has an idea now. You love him enough that you gave him his own little chunk of the sun. Even if things don’t pan out they way he hopes they will, he doesn’t think he’ll need the necklace – however pretty it may be.

He’s already got his bit of the sun wrapped up tight in his arms.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

4. heat of the kitchen (restaurant owner!harry x chef!reader)

(part 1 here) | (part 2 here) | (part 3 here)

summary: the day of the gala, but something unexpected happens, leaving you a responsibility that could either make or break your career.

words: 5k

warnings: fluff, a hint of angst.

You had just started falling into a restless sleep when your phone buzzed loudly on the nightstand, making you jump awake in surprise. Squinting your blurry eyes at the bright screen, you felt a prickle of worry when you saw the time - 4:17am. This couldn't be good news at this hour. 

Sure enough, it was Harry's number flashing on the caller ID. With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you swiped to answer and brought the phone to your ear. "Hello?"

"[Y/N], hey..." Even through the tinny distortion of the phone line, you could hear the grimness and exhaustion in Harry's voice. "Look, I...there's been an emergency with my family back home. My mom is really sick and not doing well."

You sat up straight in bed now, any remaining grogginess from sleep instantly swept away by a crushing wave of dismay. You listened in silence as he explained in brief phrases about needing to get on the next available flight to go back to New York right away. He said he wasn't sure when he'd be able to return to Chicago.

"I just didn't have a chance to let you know about this earlier," Harry's low, raspy voice crackled with regret. "I've already spoken with Thomason to take over running things at the event today, but...I'm so sorry, [Y/N]. The timing of this could not possibly be worse."

"No no, please don't even worry about that right now," you interjected quickly, your mind already whirling with the huge implications of what he was saying. Today was the extremely important Martin gala event - without Harry there to oversee the execution of his highly complicated, avant-garde centrepiece dish, the whole thing could spectacularly fall apart in front of all the big-name food critics and chefs of Chicago.

And yet...none of that professional stuff mattered at all compared to the intensely personal crisis your mentor was going through right now. "Is everything...I mean, is your mom going to be okay?" you asked hesitantly, not wanting to pry too much but deeply concerned.

Harry let out a shaky sigh that made your chest clench with empathy for what he must be feeling. "I don't know yet. They're running some medical tests on her this morning to get more answers, but...it doesn't look good so far based on what they've told me."

There was a heavy pause before he added in a rough, strained voice, "Looks like I've got another big battle ahead of me here."  

Despite the gravity of the situation, you felt a pang of fondness at those terse words that sounded so quintessentially like Harry - tackling this heart-wrenching personal turmoil with the same determination and head-on approach he always brought to challenges in the kitchen.

"I'll be okay," Harry stated in a tone that made it clear he didn't want or expect any sympathy or reassurance from you about it. "Right now, all I need is for you to promise me that the gala event today is going to be a complete success no matter what else is happening. Can you handle being fully in charge of running the whole operation and making sure my vision for the centerpiece dish comes out perfectly?"

He didn't need to go into more detail - you knew full well the enormity of the responsibility he was asking you to take on here. Tremors of nerves joined the waves of sympathy and concern roiling through you at the weight of this task. But you didn't hesitate at all before answering.

"You have my word, Chef," you vowed solemnly. "I'll treat this dish and event with the same intense, laser-focused commitment you've been drilling into me from day one - and I absolutely won't let you down."  

This time, Harry's answering exhale held the faintest trace of pride and...something more you couldn't quite put your finger on. "I know you won't let me down. I'm gonna have to go take care of things now, but I'll call again later to check in on how preparations are going over there. In the meantime, just stay calm, stay focused, and execute everything exactly like we've practiced over and over again these past weeks."

"I will. And Harry--" you hesitated momentarily before plunging ahead. "I really hope...well, just please take care of yourself too, okay? Sending you all my best wishes for your mom to get through this."

There was a beat of surprised silence before he responded in a gruff but sincere voice, "Yeah...thanks, [Y/N]. I appreciate that."

With that, the call clicked off abruptly, leaving you alone amid the predawn stillness with nothing but the immense weight of the trust and responsibility Harry had placed on your shoulders.

This was by far the biggest professional challenge you'd ever faced in your culinary career. Not just having to pull off executing Harry's avant-garde, innovative, wildly complex dish to absolute perfection under the intense scrutiny of the biggest names and players in Chicago's food world - but doing so while your mentor battled a hugely serious personal crisis unfolding all the way across the country in New York. Just the thought of it made your stomach churn with anxious adrenaline and nerves.

Still...despite the daunting nature of this task, you couldn't help but feel a sense of opportunity arising as well. This was an unexpected and unprecedented chance for you to truly prove yourself at the highest possible level, to rise up and show you had the skills and mental toughness to handle the most intense culinary pressure situations. You'd worked too damn hard, invested too many long hours of sweat and failures in kitchens everywhere to let this monumental opportunity slip through your fingers.

A feeling of steely resolve settled over you as you climbed out of bed and began methodically getting ready to start your day. No matter what curveball life had thrown at Harry derailing his own ability to participate, your role and mission remained unchanged - you made a solemn vow to him, and you utterly refused to let him down when he was counting on you most in this dire moment. This gala would go off flawlessly, the vision and game plan he'd meticulously drilled into you executed with precise mastery down to every last detail. Abject failure was simply not an option today.

***

By the time the first pale streaks of dawn began filtering through your windows, you were fully dressed and shoving a high-protein bar into your mouth as fuel while heading out the door to the event venue. Despite the early hour, there was already a palpable buzz and energy of activity when you arrived, crews of staffers and organizers darting around in a highly choreographed frenzy as they put the very final touches and preparations in place.  

You spotted Thomason's towering, intimidating form immediately - the harsh sous chef resembled a military general marshaling the troops, barking out orders and keeping everything flowing in an orderly yet intense manner. Straightening your spine, you crossed over purposefully to greet him directly. Thomason's eyes flicked over you appraisingly before giving a short, sharp nod of acknowledgment. "Good, you're here. Let's get you situated and start running through all your station assignments."

Without any further preamble or wasted words, he turned sharply on his heel and strode off at a brisk pace, clearly expecting you to fall into step directly behind him with no delays. Suppressing a resigned sigh, you did just that, matching his stride as Thomason immediately launched into a rapid-fire rundown and delegation of every single responsibility that would fall under your purview for the entire day.

It was...honestly, a staggering amount of crucial tasks and oversight duties to absorb all at once this early in the morning, especially given the giant extenuating circumstance and crisis situation hanging overhead with Harry's absence. But Thomason pressed on in his typical brusque, no-nonsense manner.

Apparently Harry had already briefed the imposing, burly sous chef on the pertinent details of the personal situation he was dealing with, as evidenced by Thomason's uncharacteristic patience whenever you had to pause to fully digest certain instructions or ask for any clarification on assignments. But the gruff kitchen veteran otherwise made no comforting allowances, simply conveying the huge pile of duties you'd need to stay on top of from morning prep straight through to the evening's high-stakes dinner service.

By the time he finally finished laying out the overwhelming laundry list of tasks you were accountable for, a tenuous sense of control had settled over your earlier panic and worries. You could do this. Logistically speaking, it would be the most daunting and high-pressure culinary challenge you'd ever faced by far - but thanks to all the intense training and preparation Harry had put you through, you genuinely felt as ready as you could possibly be. All that remained now was keeping your head down and executing flawlessly with the same pinpoint focus and work ethic he'd instilled in you through those grueling practice runs.

With a grim nod of determination, you turned and started overseeing your assigned kitchen crew in setting up the intricate series of mise en place stations that would be required for pulling off Harry's avant-garde, wildly complex centerpiece dish. All around you, the buzz of frantic activity swelled as area after area of the massive venue was brought online in final preparation for the rapidly approaching arrival times of guests and participants.  

Though you kept waiting for the spike of nerves and adrenaline to hit, surprisingly, a strange sense of calm numbness had instead descended over you - the kind that often surfaced in the middle of an intense, all-hands-on-deck dinner rush back at the restaurant. In these do-or-die, make-it-or-break-it kinds of situations, there simply was no spare mental bandwidth available for anything beyond the critical task directly in front of you in that very moment. Distracting thoughts and nerves got shunted aside as survival instincts took over.

And just like that, you lost yourself in the soothing, almost meditative rhythm of prep work, falling into that laser-focused state of dicing, slicing, arranging each individual ingredient component with painstaking, meticulous care according to the detailed specifications Harry had drilled into you over and over. At one point, you absently accepted a bottled water from one of your line cooks with a murmured thanks, but otherwise operated on auto-pilot.  

You weren't entirely sure how much time had elapsed before Thomason's gruff bark of "Ten minutes!" roused you from your intense, trance-like focus. All around, your crew instantly kicked into an even higher gear, ferrying the completed mise en place components to the designated plating stations in an efficient flurry of motion. You barely registered Thomason sidling up next to you with an evaluating look on his imposing features.

"You did decent prep work so far, kid," he acknowledged in a tone of voice that was only marginally less dismissive than his usual demeanor. "Now let's see if you can actually plate this bastard of a complicated dish without totally screwing the pooch."

With that uniquely Thomason-style pep talk, he gave your shoulder a clap and then strode off to take his place at the all-important expediting position for the evening's service, leaving you warmed by the backhanded compliment. Coming from the notoriously harsh and miserly-with-praise Thomason, those words were basically the equivalent of an ecstatic rave.

Any boost of confidence was welcome at this point, as the first wave of elite guests began trickling into the dining area right on schedule. You could feel the atmosphere in the room shifting, charging with buzzing energy and anticipation as these influential culinary figures saw the artfully designed space, flipped through the rundown of tonight's prix fixe menu, and speculated about what boundary-pushing creation Harry had surely concocted for his centrepiece auction dish.  

Your own adrenaline kicked into high gear as you took your place at the head plating station, flanked by your hand-picked crew who would assist in the extremely intricate assemble of all the individual components coming together. A hush fell over the kitchen as you exchanged looks with your team, giving a final nod of readiness. 

"First courses..." came the terse callout from the expo line. And with that, you immediately snapped into focus, hands moving with the precision drilled into them through countless practice runs as you began plating the initial courses.

From there, the entire high-stakes evening blurred into a cyclone of intense concentration and rapid-fire execution, broken only by the occasional smattering of polite applause from the dining room as each new course made its debut to apparent delight. But you remained steadfastly disengaged from all of that, shutting it out entirely as you moved with economical grace from one fastidiously assembled plate to the next in a state of total flow.

You were aware on some level of Thomason periodically prowling the line, sharp eyes scrutinizing every last component with the intensity of a decorated drill sergeant. But his presence was almost soothing in a way, a low-key affirmation that you and your crew were hitting every lofty mark thus far.

Finally, after what felt like both a grueling endurance marathon and the naturally seamless completion of a singular, continuous motion...it was time. All the other courses had been executed flawlessly, clearing the way for the pièce de résistance - Harry's avant-garde centerpiece dish that would cap off the evening. You took a deep, steadying breath as the first calls came in from the expo line.

"Fire one centerpiece!"

Your hands moved with the precision of a surgeon, each practiced motion flowing seamlessly into the next as you began assembling the first plate of the showstopper course. Around you, your crew worked in the same laser-focused unison, handling each individual component with utmost care and attention to detail.  

Despite the mounting pressure with every new order fire, that strange sense of calm numbness persisted. There was no mental bandwidth to spare on anything extraneous - your entire world had contracted to these series of sequential tasks laid out before you, each one flowing naturally into the next like a continuous stream.

Plating tweezers arranged the final delicate pour of herb-infused olive oil spheres with the same singular focus as you squeezed the pipette to apply the perfectly calibrated dot of acidic reduction. Not a single movement was wasted, not a component out of place as you slid the finished avant-garde masterpiece across to the expo line for final approval before heading out to the dining room.

"Looked good from here, kid," Thomason's gruff voice sounded in your ear amidst the orchestrated chaos, startling you slightly. You blinked, barely registering the stocky sous chef's towering presence overseeing your shoulder before turning your attention immediately back to the next set of hands firing.

On and on it went in that same relentless yet steady cadence, each nouveau plate a pristine reflection of the focus, intensity, and cumulative skill that had been honed into you over months of Harry's rigorous training. Sweat beaded along your hairline, apron dampening as you moved with increasing speed and efficiency under the mounting pressure of continuous fires.  

You were only vaguely aware of the soft crashing waves of polite applause rolling in from the nearby dining room each time a new creation hit the tables. Your ears were trained to more important sounds - the sharp callouts from expo, the curt exchanges between yourself and your crew attempting to maintain the incredible pace.

At one point, you registered Thomason's heavy tread beside you once more, his grizzled voice pitched low to be heard over the controlled pandemonium. "Pretty damn flawless so far, I'll give you that. But don't let your foot off the gas now, we still got a ways to go yet."

A simple grunt of acknowledgment was all you could spare in response as you plated two more centerpiece dishes in rapid succession, sliding them across for inspection. Thomason made a noise of begrudging approval before turning away, freeing you to tunnel-vision once more.  

Swaying slightly on your feet from the physical toll and intense focus, you blinked away the spotties at the edge of your vision. There was simply no other choice - failure was not an option, not after everything you and Harry had invested into this critical moment. 

How much time had elapsed, you couldn't say. All you knew was the continuous cycle of order fires, the increasingly efficient rhythm of your movements and those of your crew. The end goal of seeing this groundbreaking creation delivered to the last diner with the same polish as the first lone plate.

It was only when the final callout came over the line that reality slowly bled back in around the edges. "Last one, centerpiece! Fire for the panel..."  

The clatter of your toolkit was shockingly loud in the relative stillness as you began assembling that climactic plate with even more painstaking care than before. Every component was a masterstroke, each paso doble between you and your crew unfolding in step.

You barely registered Thomason's presence hovering nearby, posture radiating tension and scrutiny, as you slid the final centerpiece across for his inspection. A short eternity seemed to pass as the steely-eyed veteran examined the plate with unsparing intensity from all angles.  

At last, he gave a single deferential nod before calling out the fire to the dining room. "Chef's centerpiece...walking!"

A rousing swell of applause rolled back from beyond the partition as you straightened up, only now allowing the descending sense of accomplishment to wash over you fully. It was done - Harry's groundbreaking, avant-garde vision had been executed to utter perfection.

The surrounding kitchen area seemed to slowly reanimate as the rest of the corps d'équipe emerged from their own hypnotrance–states, exchanging tired grins and backslaps of congratulations. For his part, Thomason wore an expression that bordered on...approving?You could never tell.

"You pulled it off, kid," he rumbled in that trademark gravelly baritone. The stocky chef's clap on your shoulder managed to convey impressed respect more clearly than any flowery praise. "Flawless service from top to bottom. I'll be sure to pass that along to Chef Patino when I touch base."

Your face must have reflected the gratified shock you felt at the gruff compliment, as Thomason's mouth twisted wryly before adding, "Don't look so damn stunned. You did good work holding it all together out there tonight. Real good work."

With that, he gave your shoulder one final squeeze before turning to address the rest of the crew and applauds rippled through the kitchen area. But you barely heard any of it over the dull roar in your ears - the mixture of bone-deep exhaustion and sheer disbelief at what you'd all just managed to pull off against seemingly insurmountable odds.

Gradually, the bustle of post-service breakdown routines fired up around you. But you remained still in the eye of that storm for several long moments, simply allowing the profound weight of your accomplishment tonight to sink in fully.  

Despite the challenges, the unexpected crises that had threatened to derail everything...your tenacity and the depth of your training had ultimately prevailed. Harry's faith in you had been rewarded with an unmitigated triumph.

The realization brought a surge of fierce pride, tempered only by the hope that your mentor had managed to find some shred of comfort amidst his own turmoil tonight. You knew Harry well enough to be certain he would be dissecting every component, evaluating each nuance of the dish's execution with his trademark intensity even from afar.

And suddenly, you very much needed to hear his voice - to fill him in on all the details, reassure him that you'd kept your word right down to crossing every final T. To...well, to simply share in this significant victory with the man whose driving ambition and belief had made it all possible.

As if summoned by sheer force of will, your phone began buzzing from your back pocket with a familiar caller ID flashing. Stepping aside from the lingering chaos, you swiped to accept the call with your heart lodged squarely in your throat.

"Harry? It's me..."

The voice on the other end sounded tinny and wrung-out, yet still utterly suffused with that unmistakable gravel-rough timbre. "How'd it go, kiddo?"

Despite the bone-weary fatigue dragging at your every muscle, you felt a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth as you took in the sight of your crew unabashedly celebrating their collective win. "See for yourself."

With a few quick taps, you switched the call over to FaceTime, angling the camera to capture the wild scene surrounding you. Raucous cheers and whoops of victory filled the feed as Harry got an eyeful of his triumphant kitchen corps living it up.

For a long moment, he was silent on the other end, drinking in the rowdy scene. Then, his low chuckle finally filtered through, slightly watery but brimming with unmistakable pride.

"That's my crew," Harry rasped in a voice gone thick. "Well done, team. Well done."

You grinned fiercely at the screen, willing him to feel every ounce of your conviction as you responded. "We did you proud, Chef. Start to finish."

And just like that, the shaky exhale he released said everything his gruff words couldn't. For all his outward bravado and grit, your mentor's steadfast belief had been vindicated tonight - and his faith in you rewarded beyond even his own expectations.

For the first time in weeks, that shaky tension seemed to finally loosen its grip on both of you. Though the road ahead might still be fraught, this evening's triumph had forged an unbreakable bond of shared understanding and trust.

The entire grueling process of preparing for and executing the ambitious centerpiece dish had pushed both your skills, stamina and mental toughness to their limits. But instead of fracturing under such tremendous shared pressure, your mentor-mentee dynamic had been distilled down to its essential core - that of two committed culinary artists striving relentlessly towards the same creative vision, and ultimately emerging unified in the wake of that lofty achievement.

In that moment, any unresolved tensions or lingering frissons of attraction between you were rendered almost quaint, overwhelmed by the profound sense of creative synergy and hard-won victory. Those undercurrents would inevitably resurface later once the high had faded. But for now, you could simply bask in the warm glow of knowing you'd risen to every challenge thrown your way and come out on top.

Harry must have sensed the shift in your demeanor, the way your posture had relaxed slightly without sacrificing any of that fierce determination. His gruff chuckle sounded again through the phone's speaker, drawing your attention back to his careworn but glowing expression.  

"Listen, pet..." he began in that trademark rasp, once again hitting you with the nickname that made your heart skip a beat,. "I gotta go take care of some stuff on this end. But we're gonna crack open a couple bottles when I'm back, you and me. We've earned it after pulling off a goddamn miracle like this one."

The very thought of the two of you sharing drinks and cutting loose for once, without the weight of impending culinary obligations hanging overhead, struck you as incredibly appealing after tonight's intensity. A warm smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you gave an emphatic nod.

"You know I'm gonna hold you to that, Chef. I'm thinking top-shelf stuff too, none of that bottom-rung swill."

Harry threw back his head with another peal of laughter. "You got it, you earned it. Gimme a couple days to get things sorted and I'll take you somewhere swanky to celebrate, on me. My way of saying thanks for proving me right about you, Y/n."

Before you could respond, Harry's gaze grew pensive, amusement fading slightly as he searched your expression with uncharacteristic earnestness. "And I mean it, you know. Not just about the drinks, but...well, you really came through in the clutch tonight. I knew you had the skills to pull it off, but seeing you actually do it against those crazy odds? You exceeded every expectation. I couldn't be prouder if you were my own flesh and blood."

You felt your cheeks warming at the uncommon depth of sincerity in his gravelly voice. Though Harry had never been one for emotional vulnerability, in this moment you could see the profound gratitude shining through loud and clear.  

"That really means a lot coming from you, Harry," you managed in a slightly hushed tone, momentarily rendered speechless by the unexpected warmth radiating from him. "You know I'd never want to let you down, especially when you were counting on me most."

The tender moment stretched out in weighted silence, intimate currents flowing back and forth even through the crackle of the video feed. Until eventually, Harry seemed to resurface from that unguarded well of sincerity, giving a slightly blustery clearing of his throat.

"Well anyway, you did the heavy lifting tonight," he rallied in his typical all-business timbre, the hoarse bravado back in full force. "I'll leave you and the crew to enjoy your big victory bash. Just try not to get too out of hand with the partying."

He started to shift away from the camera, clearly preparing to disengage, when his hazel-eyed gaze flicked back to pin you with an unreadable look. A ghost of a smirk played around the edges of his mouth as he seemed to drink you in through the video feed.

"Oh, and one more thing, darlin'..." 

You felt your breath catch at the rich, velvety timbre Harry imbued that endearment with - a departure from the casual, teasing way he usually deployed such pet names. This particular iteration seemed to caress something deeper, more weighted between you.

"I'm real proud of how you rose above and killed it tonight," he murmured in that same honeyed rasp that raised goosebumps along your skin. His gaze raked over you with unmistakable heat and intent. "Showed me that laser-focused mental strength and fortitude I always suspected was in there."

Harry shook his tousled head slowly, lips still curved in that secretive half-smile. "Gotta admit, I clearly underestimated you in the past, darlin'. Won't be making that mistake again."

The suggestive timbre in which he issued that statement was utterly at odds with the mentor-protegee context you'd been operating in mere moments ago. You felt your breath hitch as a warmth bloomed across your cheeks, suddenly hyper-aware that you were still surrounded by your raucous crew celebrating nearby.

Surely you were reading far too much into Harry's words and tone...except his eyes were gleaming with a combination of heat and challenge as they roamed over your features in a way that made you feel stripped bare. As if he knew full well the dizzying, electrifying effect he could have on you - even through a mere video call - and was shamelessly exercising that power.

You opened your mouth to respond, though what you could possibly say to that molten statement you had no idea. Thankfully, Harry seemed to recognize he was quickly veering into the old inappropriate territory and reigned himself in with a rough throat-clearing.

"Anyway, go have fun with the crew and I'll holler at you in a couple days once I get things sorted out on this end," he concluded, all traces of that heated bravado tucked away once more behind his typical gruff exterior. "You've more than earned it, darlin'."

Another searing look accompanied the purring emphasis he gave that endearment before Harry flashed you a stunningly lopsided grin - then the video feed clicked off, leaving you slightly dazed and flustered in its wake.

A long moment passed where you simply stared at the blank screen, cheeks still burning as your mind raced over the cadence of that parting exchange. From the heartfelt gratitude and rare showering of praise...to that inexplicably molten aside loaded with suggestion, it had all left you feeling deliciously unmoored and off-kilter. 

You remained in that uncertain headspace for a while longer, the buzz of your crew's raucous celebration providing a soundtrack as the hours ticked by. Though you made a concerted effort to remain present, to revel in this hard-won moment of glory alongside your teammates, part of your consciousness couldn't help but keep circling back to that searing parting remark from Harry.

You kept thinking about the way he spoke, wondering if there was a hidden meaning behind his words.  Suddenly, your long-suppressed feelings for the charismatic chef surged with volcanic intensity, consuming every rational thought until only one truth remained. 

You decided you were done hiding your desire for Harry– done keeping that ravenous wanting locked away in the name of professionalism.The next time you saw your mentor, you promised yourself you would be completely honest. No more beating around the bush. Only complete, blazing honesty.

You would openly admit the burning attraction you'd felt since first meeting his intense gaze months ago. You would confront the growing tension from all his suggestive comments.

No more hiding behind being professional. You would put everything out in the open, once and for all. Either Harry felt the same fiery passion...or he didn't, and you could finally move on. 

Once and for all.

But the need to finally uncover the truth burned within you, even if it meant risking everything and leaving your heart in ashes - because the constant wondering and uncertainty had become a suffocating torment you could no longer endure. Making that decision lifted a weight off your shoulders momentarily, but you steeled yourself knowing the real challenge still lay ahead, a daunting path that could either lead you to euphoric fulfilment or utter devastation.

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[maple-the-awesome]

He Becomes a Dad! || Part 1/2

PART 2

Pairing: Time, Four, Legend, Hyrule x Reader

Overview: Congratulations, you're new parents 🎉 Some of the Links are prepared. Others...might need a moment to gather themselves. But rest assured! At the end of the day, they're all going to get a handle on this whole dad thing. I'm a sucker for family tropes and there simply aren't enough out there for the Chain to quench my thirst, so here it is, I'm adding my contribution👍 Btw, there will be only two parts for this prompt since Wind will be excluded for obvious reasons. Baby making isn't a platonic activity🤷‍♀️

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You only brought the topic of children up to your husband once. It was at some point during the early half of your marriage and after a particularly lengthy day of enduring Malon’s well-meant pestering. Time, beside being caught slightly off guard, delivered a straightforward answer:

“It wouldn’t feel right bringing kids into this world, especially when I would hardly be home to help you rear them.”

Now, you can’t lie and say you weren’t at all disappointed by this answer, although you wouldn’t say you had the rug completely pulled from beneath you. You understood the true implications behind Time’s statement right away. It’s the same reason he took so long to let himself marry you. It’s not you nor a disgust towards children, but rather an unspoken fear of building a life where he’s too happy - one that could be ripped away from him at a moment’s notice as has seemed to be the case for his younger years.

Although his worries are needless, you never pushed against his boundaries because you could at least see the sense in his argument. Sure, the idea of having children did always appeal to you deep down, however between Time’s constant traveling and your hard work helping at Lon Lon Ranch, it would be difficult to squeeze a family into the schedule. There was no sense in forcing him into a commitment he wasn’t ready for nor one you weren’t in a  position to properly foster.

Twelve years of blissful marriage passed before your plans changed. The blame lies with those other heroes, too. One would think traveling alongside a group of unruly young boys would’ve made someone more certain of their decision to never again subject themselves to such a headache, yet it apparently had the opposite effect on your dear husband.

Discovering first hand how much pride he could feel towards a descendant was life-altering, to put it light. Twilight was living proof that somewhere along the line, Time does something right. Whatever kids he might have will grow up to have children of their own and so on…Not to mention Twilight isn’t a terrible outcome by any means. To raise someone with the possibility of them turning out like him and to do so with you of all people? Well, needless to say, it was settled rather quickly after that: Time wanted kids.

Call it baby-fever if you will, but he was suddenly rather eager about the concept he had once avoided like the plague. He brought it up through not-so-subtly hints at first, then when you outright asked him if he was being serious, he went on a slightly nervous spew about your home being too quiet and how he could officially retire from traveling to be home more and it’s really a shame that you have an extra bedroom just sitting around - You just had to kiss him to shut him up which eventually led to…other things. Let’s just say you both got started right away.

It took you twelve years to realize you did indeed want kids yet less than a year to actually be holding them for the first time. It turns out even the universe was impatiently waiting for you both to come to your senses, so once you finally had, it decided to award you with not one, but two beautiful girls whom you affectionately named Saria after Time’s old friend and Mallory, a mix between melody and Malon, their ever-so-excited godmother.  

It’s safe to say that the twins are pretty spoiled. Malon has been over almost everyday, bringing you plenty of baked goods as a bribe to let her spend more time with her favorite goddaughters and you have practically every baby related item that you could need, courtesy of the Queen of Hyrule herself, but of course, it’s their parents who love them the most.

Never in his wildest dreams did Time think it would be possible to feel so at peace with the life he’s built. For so many years, he feared true happiness was impossible - that every turn would result in the same cruel fate he had been subjected to during most of his existence - and yet for the last couple of nights, he’s held it in his arms. He’s watched the moon rise outside his window while playing soft lullabies on his ocarina, you cuddled by his side with your daughters shared between you both. You wear a small smile even in sleep and he swears the girls match it, too; he definitely does himself…This is a priceless treasure he’ll give his life to protect.

Four and you had already been married for a few years by the time you found out you’re pregnant. It’s not to say you were actively planning for it, although you also weren’t actively trying not to either. 

It had been agreed upon early in your relationship that kids would be nice should they come your way, therefore you were both equally excited that your wishes were finally being granted, so much so that the nursery was finished within the first month (courtesy of your handy husband). It’s painted in beautiful pastels that are easy on the eyes and decorated with many toys Four had hand-carved himself; a useful craft he’s now very appreciative towards Sky for teaching him.

Seeing as this was already a somewhat anticipated next step in your lives, Four’s pretty relaxed throughout the process despite its many challenges. For starters, pregnancy itself unfortunately isn't as much of a 'blessing' for you as some have made it sound. You’re rather sick from beginning to end. If it isn't your inability to keep food down (especially in the early stages) or your fluctuating blood pressure, then it’s the aching you constantly feel thanks to both your very heavy bump and extremely active baby who just loves to make sure you never forgot about their existence by kicking you as hard as possible day and night. 

Worry not. Four has made your struggles more bearable by being a darling husband through and through. He’s by your side during each doctor’s visit, does his own personal research on all things baby-related, and helps with every chore he can to give you at least some rest even if just for a quick nap, however most spectacularly, he does all of this without ever being too overbearing. 

Although certainly concerned for your health, Four can recognize your strength any day of the week, especially when you've been rolling with the punches like a warrior queen during such a draining pregnancy. Anxious, sure, but not afraid. Why would he be? He’s confident that you’re both prepared to face anything together! …That is, until you actually went into labor…

Yeah, remember that previously mentioned, relaxed and darling husband? Forget about him. Your water broke and so did Four's calm demeanor, but can he really be blamed? You went into labor early - and not just by a couple of days either. Oh no, we're talking a couple of weeks early. 

Regardless of his newfound fear, Four does his utmost best to still present himself as calm and collected in front of you, not wanting to freak you out any more than you’re already freaking out yourself. He first helped you lay down with plenty of pillows and cushions before running to get help. After that, he doesn’t leave your side, encouraging you throughout the process with a smile on his face, however don’t be fooled: the second you turn your head to the midwife’s voice or close your eyes to scream, your poor husband’s face reflects his inner thoughts as the situation fully begins to sink in. 'Scared shitless' - that's a good word to describe it; eyes wide in terror with a mouth that’s hung agape and slightly twisted in pain as your nails clawed into his hand.

As said, he never leaves your side - not even for a millisecond. You don’t have to worry about him being the type of guy to get grossed out by natural fluids or complain about your expressions of pain; none of that is remotely a concern of his. He’s just grateful to see you okay and even more so to hear his baby crying as they should.

A girl; small like her daddy, but healthy all things considered. Four couldn't wait to hold her, knowing damn well he was going to cry the second her soft skin touched his, but he isn’t ashamed of it in the slightest. Who wouldn’t cry holding something so precious?

Then you scream again. He thinks something must be wrong until the midwife announces that it isn’t over - that there are more squeezed in there waiting.

At the end of the day, you're just relieved to finally breathe easy without going through agonizing pain while Four, on the other hand, is left in shock staring at not one, not two, but three little babies, all healthy girls who wiggle and whimper in their parents' arms, but oh well. The nursery may have to be expanded, although there's plenty of love to go around. At least he can thank Hylia that it wasn’t quads (he's had enough of those).

Legend and you have been in a relationship for several years, although you had mutually agreed earlier on that neither of you were big fans of the whole 'marriage' thing. What difference would a ceremony and piece of paper make, anyway? You already act as any officially married couple would. You live together, go on dates, occasionally argue, and even share a bed which is exactly what resulted in a recent, unplanned detour in your lives: a baby.

When you first told Legend the news, he panicked, asking himself all those stupid questions like ‘what now’ and ‘how could this have happened’ even though he knew damn well how. Then he left. Giving some half-assed excuse about needing fresh air, he turned his back to you despite your pleas and didn’t return for hours. 

Now, rest assured, he did immediately regret having that reaction and apologized for it as soon as he came home. He didn’t mean to scare you with the thought of abandonment, but as he would quietly confess during his apology, the thought of being a parent had just been too overwhelming in the moment. Neither of you had ever talked about having kids, and while he could at least have some peace of mind knowing you’ll obviously be a great mom, he fears that the same won’t be applied to him.

You have always been the light in a dim room, as Legend would put it. You’re fun, sweet, and amazing with kids. Any child of yours, planned or not, will love you with all of their heart exactly as he does. Meanwhile he’s stubborn, cranky, and the last kid to cross his path literally started sobbing. Maybe it had to do with him being covered in monster blood after just having crawled out of a dungeon but he’s pretty sure he traumatized a kid nonetheless…The thought of being just as bad around any kid you share together scares the crap out of him.

Deep, deep down, Legend’s actually somewhat excited to be a father. Although he’s too stubborn to admit it to anyone other than you, he’ll sometimes daydream about how nice it would be to tell a little replica of you both about all his adventures or to teach them how to use some of the items he’s collected over the years like his trusty boomerang. Seeing the excitement in their eyes would definitely be worth listening to you scold him afterwards. If that’s all there was to being a father, Legend wouldn’t have a single concern, yet it’s his insecurities that always have a habit of souring things. Would his kid actually find his stories cool or would they just be tempted to throw the boomerang right at his head?

You’ve done your best to reassure him, often falling back on the argument that the baby will be a part of him. Like father, like son, right? Legend was almost ready to believe you, too, especially upon laying eyes on his child for the first time. As you passed the tiny bundle over to him, he thought that maybe being a dad wasn’t going to be that scary after all, and it might not be so bad to even have more someday either…However, his worries were quick to return when the baby started screaming two seconds after being set into his arms…

Baby screams if he holds him. Baby whimpers if he looks at him for too long. Sometimes, Legend swears the thing starts crying simply by hearing his voice in another room. It doesn’t happen with anyone else, though. The baby just adores you as predicted, but what Legend can’t stand is the fact that the baby seems to like Ravio, of all annoyances, over his own dad.

He’s forced to watch as the little brat happily lets Ravio cradle him, the sight filling him with bitter jealousy and sorrow. You’re convinced that he’s just overthinking everything - that he should give himself time to adjust to his new position as a father instead of holding himself to unrealistic standards, but how long is he exactly supposed to wait until it clicks? It’s been a whole month already and he still feels as confused as day one! Will he ever get the hang of this whole dad-thing or is he a lost cause…?

If there’s any comfort Legend can have, it’s that even Ravio doesn’t know what to do with the baby once he starts crying, so at least he’s not alone in that aspect. The only problem is you’re busy making lunch and stubbornly refuse to pause your efforts. Instead, you shove a bottle over to Legend, insisting that he be the one to feed his son since it should be a ‘good bonding exercise’ for them. You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer and judging on your glare when he tries to protest, you probably wouldn’t be happy if he tries passing the task onto Ravio either.

Thus, Legend is left to awkwardly sit down and take the baby into his arms. He already knows it’s obvious he has no idea what he’s doing, Ravio doesn’t have to point it out, but luckily after some swift around, he manages to hold his son more securely against his chest before shoving the bottle in his face. The baby continues to fuss while turning his head away from the bottle, and Legend’s almost tempted to call for you in defeat until at last, the room falls silent.

Looking down, he watches in quiet awe as his son accepts his meal eagerly. His little hands quickly rise up, gripping onto Legend’s which holds the bottle in place. They’re so tiny; barely able to wrap around a single finger - Oh, and his eyes as well! They’re wide as he stares up at his dad with unbroken eye contact. It’s like a wordless conversation - one more valuable than any he’s heard before.

You return, offering to take your son now that your work is done, but Legend is quick to shake his head. Why don’t you take a well-deserved break while he handles this little troublemaker? It would be a shame to bother him when he looks so comfortable in daddy’s arms.

You've been dating Hyrule for longer than either of you can really remember, however you aren’t in any big rush to get married, figuring that it would make no real difference in your commitment to each other. You love Hyrule and he loves you. What more is there to say? For a while there, you were both perfectly satisfied with simply taking things slow and letting fate decide your course, although more recently you’ve had to switch up that method to something more stable for the baby. Yes, a baby.

You wouldn’t necessarily call it a surprise, but you also can’t truthfully say it was planned either. You had agreed that kids might be nice if the goddesses ever blessed you with any in the future, however you weren’t exactly trying for them…You just weren’t being very careful…

Hyrule must admit he was rather nervous at the start. The only prior experience he really had around kids was with Wind, but there’s a pretty big difference between a young teen and newborn. Pair that with his not so ‘kid-friendly’ world and there’s plenty to worry over. Anything could happen, but Hyrule’s determined to be the best dad and partner he can.

First thing was first, of course: you needed a place to stay. Traveling is fun and you both enjoy being on the move, but that’s no life for a baby. Hyrule and you had actually already considered the idea of settling down someplace before, so you didn’t think of it as a massive loss to take off your adventure boots for a while. If anything, it was a welcomed change once you remembered how lovely it is to be able to kick your feet up for a rest or be surrounded by warmth during a terrible rainstorm.

Again, Hyrule takes his job as your partner very seriously which wasn’t ever a surprise to you. He found a small house for you both to rent in one of the safer villages around; a perfect place for raising a child. While he might not have a talent for decorating or making a place feel ‘homey’, he does thrive when it comes to making sure you’re comfortable, his spare rupees definitely going to fluffy wool blankets and a rickety rocking chair that he saw at a market.

Early on in the pregnancy, you noticed that your boyfriend also began showing a new found determination for cooking which did scare you a bit at first - Okay, so maybe a lot. Hyrule began taking cooking lessons from some kind elderly ladies in town who must have an endless pool of patience because while you can’t say every dish is a masterpiece (or even editable for that matter), you are happy to say Hyrule can now make things like toast and tomato soup successfully. It’s progress.

There aren’t a ton of doctors in your time and none in your village, so you have to take a lot of notes from local women regarding the process. Hearing all their stories and the possible ‘what if’s for what could go wrong made you anxious, especially once you finally go into labor, but it doesn’t faze Hyrule - not on the outside, anyway. He does an excellent job of swallowing his own fears for your peace of mind, talking you through each painful contraction and doing his best to distract you from it all until it comes time to start pushing.

Some people may get squeamish at the thought of childbirth, however Hyrule isn’t one of them. He’s fought through some terrifying dungeons and has bore witness to more than a few gory injuries over the years, so bodily fluids don’t bother him one bit. He’s kneeled down right in front of you without a second’s hesitation, multitasking between mentally reviewing what he’s been told to do and reassuring you even though he’s sure you don’t hear a word of it over your own screams.

One minute Hyrule’s encouraging you to keep pushing, the next he’s holding a small, crying baby in his arms. His movements after that feel almost automatic as he carefully cleans her off and just admires the fact that this baby - this tiny, precious gift of life is his. She’s yours and his and she’s beautiful despite having come into existence within such a broken world filled with more hardships than he could count…

Your tired voice brings him back to reality - asking if the baby you hear crying is okay. You clearly feel the same thing Hyrule does upon seeing your daughter for the first time, the two of you sitting side-by-side as you soak in this wonderful emotion. Hope...That’s what she represents. Hope for a brighter future...

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Lion's Pride [Part 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Leona Kingscholar Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: Your new job as a Full Time Royal Therapist does not pay nearly as well as you'd like. Or, Leona is more of a problem child than he would ever admit, but you're surprisingly okay at dealing with that.

[PART 1][PART 2] [PART 3]

Sometimes you felt like you hardly knew what it meant to be a functional person, living a comfortable life on the fringes of society. So in comparison, trying to think of what it meant to be an actual prince, ruling over all of said society was something you literally could not comprehend no matter how hard you tried to wrap your head around it.  

“If you’re a Prince, what were you doing in a hole?” you asked, because you had far too many questions and concerns, and this one at least seemed easy enough to address. And also because you were genuinely pretty curious.  

The newly dubbed ‘Leona’ twitched against your back and you felt the low rumble of his snarl work its way from the depths of his gut all the way up through his chest and out his mouth.

“Holy shit,” Ace wheezed. “Screw this. I’m getting out of here before I wind up implicated as an accessory in your murder.”

And so your trusty friend abandoned you to the wolves lions?—darting away so quickly he always forget his bag, shoes, and everything else in the process.

You waved after him as he departed, knowing full well that he’d wind up stumbling back within the week, maybe two at most. He always did, no matter how much he complained about your Present Company. Plain old ‘murder’ was actually one of his more polite accusations. When he’d run into your Hunter friend the first time, Ace had gone on a wildly incoherent rant about how he was going to find your corpse strung up in a tree like some weird, ritual, sacrifice. And then that had devolved into something-something cannibalism or other. The visiting Hunter had just thrown his head back and laughed, positively enamored with the grisliness of it all. Ace had vanished for almost an entire month after that encounter, but he did come back—glaring up at you with a miserable pout like you were the one who’d gone and fucked off for thirty whole days.

Leona snorted and you felt the puff of breath against the back of your neck.

“Coward,” he grumbled, though he didn’t sound particularly displeased about your friend’s sudden departure.

“Fear lets us be brave,” you responded, wise as a sage. Or maybe an old frog in a puddle.

“Yeah?” he intoned, rolling his eyes. “And when’s that little rat ever been brave?”

“There’s always tomorrow,” you chirped, and that snort turned into something dangerously close to a chuckle. Which—gasp!—how dare such a pleasant sound fall from the lips of someone so obstinately determined to be otherwise! You grinned at the low tones of it, only for the snickering to cut off sharply in his throat once he’d realized what he was doing. And then of course he shoved you forward and out of his lap with a great amount of indignant snarling.

You laid there for a few minutes—face down in the sun-warmed grass and laughing quietly about just how ridiculous this stupid Lion was, before finally sitting up with a pleasant stretch. He could put on airs all he liked, you knew there was kernel of something far less angsty and murderous buried at the heart of him.

“So,” you hummed, lazily making your way back to your feet. “What exactly have I done to draw the realm’s Prince to my doorstep?” You squinted at him suspiciously. “You’re not here about the fairy gate thing, are you? Because that was actually an accident.”

“The what?” he frowned, brow pinched in confusion.

You waved him off. “Ah, nothing, nothing.”

Something in his jaw twitched, like now he was going to push the subject out of principle of you being shifty. But he just sighed and brought a hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

“I need your help,” he said finally. Just as crabby as the first time he’d asked, if perhaps just a touch less imperious.

You arched a brow. “I think you’ve mentioned that already, yes.”

Silence.

The Lion stared you down with a slowly deepening scowl, and you stared back with a smile as placid and unmoved as the shallow pond you’d nearly drowned Ace in not an hour before.  

“If I apologize, you’ll help me?” he asked after a long moment, the question turning sharp at the end on a bitten of growl.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?��� you hummed back and he crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said, with all the pleasantry of someone undergoing a root canal. And all the sincerity of Ace swearing that this was the last time he’d get caught evading the tax man, promise.

You sighed, feeling a bit cheated. But you hadn’t really stipulated anything beyond those two little words leaving his mouth, so if anything, that was on you.

“Alright,” you huffed. “What is it you need help with?”

The Lion glared at you suspiciously for a long moment—glowing eyes narrowed into slits and tail twitching back and forth like he was swatting flies. Finally, he sighed and lifted his hands out in front of him with a pointed flex.  

“It’s not supposed to be like this,” he frowned sourly, wrists twisting to display the pointed claws tipping his fingers. “I’m not supposed to get stuck in between.”

Your eyes traced the fluffy tufts of his round ears, the black-tipped tail swishing irritably at his hind, and allowed yourself a melancholy sort of huff.

“But you look good like this,” you pointed out sadly. Because he really, truly, did. Leona without his squishy lion ears would just be… grumpy. Miserable, and angular, and angry. Nothing soft worth coddling at all.

“That’s not the point!” he snapped, baring his overlarge canines at you. There was a darker cast along his cheekbones that seemed to be making a valiant effort to crawl all the way up into his fringe. “And don’t fucking say that!”

You frowned. One second this stupid dick wanted to be praised to the Heavens and back! Practically swanning about, demanding you bow down and acknowledge his blatant superiority. But, oh no. Apparently your meager half-sentence masquerading as a compliment was too much for his delicate, princely, sensibilities.

“Fine,” you griped. “You’re ugly.”

He growled—low and rumbling—and if he was anymore of a cat you’d say you could see his hackles raising in indignation. But before he could launch into another vicious, verbal, evisceration of your person, you cleared your throat loudly in an attempt to get him back on track.   

“What do you mean by ‘stuck in between?’”

He sneered down at you testily for a moment before reaching up to pinch at the bridge of his nose again and letting out a put-upon sort of sigh that was not at all indicative of the fact that he was the one asking you for help.

“The Shift. When you found me in that pit, I should have been able to Shift between that form and this one without issue,” he frowned, brow tugging down tight with something a bit more disquieted than his usual, flat, annoyance. “The iron was a problem, but once I was out of the trap, it should have been fine. I’ve dealt with cursed snares like this before, and the effects have never lingered as long as this one has.”

You blinked owlishly. That did sound… fairly unpleasant. And honestly, if you were in his position you’d also be at least a little concerned that something else was at play. But, still, all that being said—

“I’m sorry,” you frowned, more or less genuine. Perhaps leaning a bit harder into less.“But I don’t understand how that has anything to do with me.”

“You were down there with me,” he argued. “You dismantled the trap.”

Uh, yeah. By messing with bits that looked breakable until they broke. Not exactly a high-level intellectual pursuit.

You didn’t say that, of course. Because after a few days watching you scuttle about your homestead like a particularly vocal lizard in the dirt, you were sure he already thought you were stupid enough without you outright admitting to it. Nevertheless, the Lion observed your zip-lipped silence with an ever-deepening scowl.

“You took it apart,” he tried again, nearly a growl.

“Yes,” you said with a nod.

“You know how you did it,” he continued, firm. At your lack of affirmative, he pushed again. “You know. I watched you do it!”

You raised your hand nervously and made a little so-so tilting motion.

Anyone less refined would no doubt have had their head in their hands at this point, but Leona just curled his lip at you and looked like he was fighting valiantly not to put your own very silly head through a wall.

“It was charmed,” he spat. “Bound up with talismans, and cursed down to its very moldings. That isn’t something any random farmer could walk up and break.”

“Oh,” you blinked, taken aback, and struggled to recall if there had been anything so obviously enchanted about the trap you’d fiddled into bits. “Was it?”

And head had officially met hands. He ground his clawed fingers into his temples like you were a headache that with enough determination and massaging he may somehow be able to will away.

“Couldn’t you go just home if this is such a big problem?” you asked, still genuinely baffled at it all. “Get help from your family? I mean, you’re a Prin—”

“No,” he interrupted, emerald eyes gone glacier cold.

You frowned, as unimpressed by his prickliness as you usually were. But something in you was hesitant to prod at whatever it was that had managed to tug a feral rage so tightly across his face—like drawing a shade over a window until the entire home was cloaked in shadow, or slipping away behind a carved mask too heavy to ever wear comfortably. It was an expression so sharp and so bitter that if you hadn’t only just yesterday watched this stubborn man lounge about in the sun as your chickens hopped all over him like he was the world’s most carnivorous jungle gym, you wouldn’t ever have known that they could be the same person at all. 

“Alright,” you shrugged, and some of that angry, hunched, defensiveness eased into confusion.

“Hah?” he frowned.

“Alright,” you said again. “We’ll figure it out here.” He glared over at you balefully, and you waved off the obvious retort on the tip of his tongue about something-something-you have no idea what you’re doing-something-something-dangerous risks and lifelong consequences-blablabla. “I have a friend who would know a lot more about those kinds of traps and talismans that I do. He could help, probably.”

“Probably?” he scoffed. Though when he rolled his eyes, they weren’t quite so hate filled—lids hooded with a familiar, begrudging sort of irritation rather than outright malice.

“He’s a bit of an enigma,” you explained—wiggling your fingers in a little, sparkly, dance to emphasize the, well, enigmatic part.

Another huff. But amidst that grumpy bellyaching, you watched those fluffy ears of his slowly perk back up atop his head, and his tail swish leisurely behind him. The Lion certainly didn’t look happy (but did he ever? So was that really a fair comparison?), but he definitely seemed like he’d thawed into something less ‘frigid dead of winter’ and more ‘unpleasantly nippy spring morning.’

“Weirder than you, herbivore?” he sniffed, looking down his nose at you and crossing his arms loosely over his chest. “I find that hard to believe.”

Normally you would too. But, well…

“He’s charming,” you chirped pleasantly, and Leona’s face twisted up like you’d served him a bowl of rancid yogurt.

.

.

That night you composed a letter to your dearest Hunter friend. You thanked him for bringing you the White Moor Stag, elaborated a bit on the new marinade you’d been experimenting with, and then ended the whole thing with a polite plea for his aid in deconstructing the mechanisms of a magical trap you’d encountered. You bribed one of your two carrier pigeons with some snacks and watched it fly off into the unknown with a little, cream-colored envelope tied to its foot. Message talismans were much simpler and far more convenient, but the Hunter always seemed to appreciate the personal touch of postal birds.

Leona glared at you from the window, and made some dramatic swipe at your pigeon like he meant to knock it out of the air. The poor bird tottered about like an overfilled water balloon—jiggling and wriggling in its roundness before eventually righting itself and continuing on into the sky with a warbled coo coo.

“Don’t be rude,” you huffed at him.

“I can’t believe you still won’t let me in,” he sneered from beneath the fluff of that blanket you’d gifted him. “I apologized.”

“Yes, but you actually have to mean it,” you explained, not unkindly, as he prowled just beyond the glass. “But we’re making progress!” you beamed. “That’s something! Maybe you’ll make it in here within the next five years, hmm?”

“Or I could just wipe out the entirety of your ridiculous dirt farm now,” he threatened, a bit of that sandy magic swirling sinisterly along his fingers.

“You certainly could, your highness,” you agreed easily. His lip curled unpleasantly, but that glowing, gritty, arcana faded away and he didn’t move from where he’d tucked himself up under the duvet.

After another solid fifteen minutes of his pissy glowering and barbed insults, you pointedly unclipped the ties on your curtains and let them fall shut so that his ridiculous pouting was hidden away behind the thin, cotton, mess of poorly stitched flowers and herbs.

(You did leave a nice dinner plate on the ledge before that, with extra portions of meat and a neatly frosted cookie for dessert. Because as much as your day had been a bit rough, you had a feeling his melancholy extended far beyond being left out in the dark for another evening.)

.

.

The next morning, your doddering pigeon returned with an elegantly bound scroll—all embellished with golden filagree and tied up in a neat, crimson, bow.

“Why does this freak call you ‘mon cher ami,’” Leona sniffed, tongue curling awkwardly over the unfamiliar words.

You sighed and debated snatching the letter back, but all that would probably culminate in was the paper in tatters and a smug beastman lording his superior letter-wrangling skills over your head like a trophy.

“It’s just one of his little ticks,” you explained with a shrug. “I told you—he’s charming.”

“Ah, yes,” Leona drawled, tracing a claw along the parchment’s edge with a soft shhhhhft. A raised, white, line cut across the paper’s surface like the beginnings of a wound. “Waxing poetic nonsense in a foreign language. Rambling on about all kinds of useless fucking garbage. Charming.”

“You,” you snipped, reaching out to smack at his tightening grip before he could rend the poor correspondence to bits, “are not one to talk about ‘charming.’”

“Oh?” he scoffed. He maneuvered around your tutting to hold the letter over your head. Typical. When you leaned forward to try and wrangle it back, Leona leaned in closer—eyes going hooded and lips curling into a smug little smirk that promised all sorts of trouble. “Haven’t had any complaints about that before. Who’d be saying otherwise?”

“The person you left stranded at the bottom of a pit, you inglorious oaf,” you griped. His ears immediately swiveled to pin flat against the top of his head, and you used the distraction of his indignation to finally snatch back your prize. “Besides,” you huffed, straightening out some of the new wrinkles. “Not very Prince-like, is it? A real prince would have swept in to save the idiot in distress. Sword drawn, banners flying,” you sighed, a bit too besotted with your own imaginings. “Why did you have to be such a dick, huh? Ruined my fantasies for the rest of my life.”

“And what?” Leona snapped. “Some rogue bastard sending you cursive garbage does it for you?”

“Better than being left for dead in a hole after saving their life,” you smiled—perfectly, poisonously, pleasant.

Leona rumbled something indiscernible under his breath and turned to glare petulantly off across your garden.

“Besides,” you hummed, looking over the letter. “There’s more important things. Like this—right here. Do you know what a self-bored stone is? He’s thinking maybe there was a process like that with the iron shackles. Or maybe something to do with seeping the components in herbs… Hmm…”

“Whatever,” Leona scoffed. “I’ll try whatever it takes to fix this shit.”

You clapped him amiably on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit, tête de noeud!”

“The fuck did you just call me?!”

“Poetic nonsense,” you chirped, and Leona looked half ready to drop you back into the hole where he’d found you.

.

.

The first attempt to aid the Lion Prince in his conundrum didn’t go particularly well.

You’d tried to work off of the whole ‘overlap with a self-bored stone’ theory, but all that really amounted to was you gesturing like an over-serious crossing guard for him to walk under every low hanging branch, every arch, beneath the stunted beams of the chicken coop. You dangled rocks from strings and waved around your little creations like slightly more dangerous pompoms.

Penelope clucked irritably when one of the pebbles fell with a plunk into her nest, and Leona frowned up at you from where the wayward chicken had firmly situated herself in his lap.

“How was any of that supposed to help?”

You drew a blank and promised to try something new tomorrow.

The next day you tried herbs. The Hunter had listed off quite a few that were known to cause lingering issues with magical creatures, and you harvested the lot of them from your garden with ease. You held them up to Leona’s face one by one, brow furrowed in concentration, as you waited for… something.

“How is this any better than the rocks?” he complained.

You pushed the bright, butter-yellow, blossoms of some Saint John’s Wort under his nose until he sneezed and shoved you away with a slew of indignant threats to your person.

The following few days were spent perusing your meager library. You carted every book you owned on magic, and binding rituals, and rune smithing out into the yard. Leona looked over at the slowly growing pile of tomes with a truly unimpressed scowl.

“You could have just invited me inside,” he griped, rolling his eyes. He was splayed out in the grass at your side, his head tossed lazily across your lap after he’d complained that he needed at least some leverage to see what you were trying to read.

“Nice try,” you hummed, reaching for your page of hastily scribbled notes. “But you’re not getting off without a genuine apology that easy.”

A week passed in this fashion, with you attempting to string together more and more ludicrous ideas—throwing everything you had at the wall and hoping something, anything, would stick. But Leona’s ears stayed tufted and round. That tail seemed to only grow more twitchy, his claws longer and sharper.

You sent the Hunter another letter and waited anxiously for a reply. When it arrived the next morning, Leona snatched it from your pigeon before you’d even made it out your front door. It was a miserable sort of day—pouring rain and with nothing but the grey cloud cover overhead to color the world.

He read it over once, twice, before dropping it to the ground. You could see the tendons twitching along his jaw, could practically hear his molars grinding in his frustration.

You plucked the note from the grass and looked it over carefully.  

‘Mon ami, while I am loathe to address this, perhaps it is not the make of this trap at all that is causing such a vexation? Is there any chance that rather than this being a lingering malady, that this friend of yours was simply unable to overcome the initial curse in the first place?’

You glanced back up at Leona, who was intermittently clenching his fists at his sides. You could see the harsh indentations from where his claws were digging into the skin of his palms.

‘Sometimes such things just happen, je crains. The flesh may be willing, but often the spirit is weak. You mentioned this Roi du Leon has a powerful family he may turn to for assistance. Certainly one of them may be strong enough to overcome this curse for him, even if he perhaps is not.’

“Of course it’s all because I’m a fuck up,” Leona snarled. Some of that spitting, sandy, magic of his seeped into the air. It bit at the rain like an overeager dog. You could see it dancing along his skin—fighting to pull his features one way or another.

“He didn’t say that,” you pointed out gently. “And even if you were, there’s nothing wrong with needing help sometimes. Your family—"

“—Would rather I keeled over dead and stopped sullying my brother’s perfect fucking reputation!” he snapped. “Heir to the King’s Roar,” he scoffed. “Stupid. I was never going to be a king to begin with. And even if I had been born first, they would have deposed me to put their flawless, favorite, golden boy on the throne anyways.”

That... That was a lot. You stared at the pacing Lion with wide eyes—unsure how to help, unsure if any attempts to do so would only make this worse. This was—this was so above your ‘happy, homey, hermit’ paygrade.

“Of course this is all because of me,” he hissed, that roiling, angry, arcana coiling around him like curdled milk. The pupils in his eyes flickered oddly from round to thin-cut, hard, lines. Beastly. “Of course it was because I wasn’t good enough.”

“Leona,” you tried, as gentle as you could be.

The Prince threw his head back and laughed. And laughed, and laughed.

“I should have known!” he cackled, borderline hysterical. “I should have fucking known!”

“Leona—” you tried again, reaching out a hand.

Only to be immediately knocked on your ass by an explosion of magic.

You’d heard of self-destruction—of implosion. The arcane wonders of the world were a wily and unyielding mistress. While creatures like Leona who were so naturally steeped in ancient magics and sorcery could control that beast more adeptly than some little mortal like you, it didn’t make them any less susceptible to its dangers. If anything, they had it worse. It was like sitting in a shallow stream versus wading out into a roaring ocean. So much more opportunity, such a higher aptitude for greatness, but far too easy to drown beneath the churning tides of it all.

The inky, geometric, swirls along his arms pulsed like a heartbeat. They crawled along his skin and traced black patterns into his veins. Even you could feel the horrible, dark, stickiness of it—as the magic ate him alive. His face twisted back and forth between human and animal, and you watched him contort and snarl under the weight of it before turning on you with a vicious roar.

Uh oh.

The first wave of magic seared the ground, leaving nothing but strange, grey, sand in its wake. The more he snapped and clawed wildly at anything and everything, the more that dusty desert spread. You managed to hop out of the way of most of it—sparing a single, sad, thought for all the poor plants you’d worked so hard to cultivate dying a miserable, grainy, death.

The next arc of magic shot straight from his clawed fingers, and it managed to catch the flesh of your forearm. It was sharper than any dagger or sword that you’d ever had the pleasure of accidentally nicking yourself with, and it tore its way down your arm like a raging beast, leaving an eerie, tacky, bubbling mess in its wake. And ouch did it hurt—like someone was taking a fistful of coarse sand and rubbing it into the open wound. You ground your teeth against the strange, gnawing, sensation and hastily wrapped a bit of torn fabric around the weeping gash to keep it a bit more contained. You waited for the worst of it to pass, for that initial bite to fade into a more manageable throb. But it didn’t. It just got sharper and tighter, hotter and hotter. For a moment it felt like your skin was crackling—like firewood popping and splitting beneath the weight of a blaze. From across the field, Leona made a noise like a hurricane given voice, and you bit back a groan.

‘Oh come on,’ you hissed to yourself. ‘Not now, please.’  

And while you’d been mostly referring to the Lion losing another brick of his sanity fort, your wound seemed to pulse at the command—a sensation not unlike the soft drone of the wards carved deep into the support beams of your dilapidated home, and an impression of words tingling along your nerves without any real shape or form. ‘Alright. Later then.’ Like a breath of wind along your fingertips. That pulsing doubled back, and the wrap you’d hurriedly tied around your forearm hummed low with gentle arcana.   

And then the cracking stopped. Just like that. Like it’d given up on eating you alive and decided to head home early for the day.

Huh, you though a bit dazedly, before hurriedly ducking out of the way of another swipe.

You clutched your still smarting but at least now functional arm to your chest, and Leona turned on you and your ethereal booboo with a raging snarl. But then that glowing glare caught on the blood trailing down towards your wrist in too dark, too thick, rivulets and his eyes went wide. It wasn’t much, but the strange bought of shock rocketing through him gave you a handful of seconds of ceasefire. You reached into your pocket with your uninjured hand and pulled out a thick bit of cardstock. This was supposed to be for emergencies, goddamn it! And you’d spent so much money on this stupid little thing! And—

You shook off the mildly delusional complaints bogging down your brain and unfolded the paper between your fingers. The sigils inked into it hummed against your skin, and the rain sluffed off its face like the cold and the damp were no bother at all.

“Fucking—” you flung the talisman at your ridiculous, rampaging, guest. It fluttered like the beat of a hawk’s wings and dove towards him with just as much vicious precision. “GO TO SLEEP!”

The enchantment smacked into his face with an echoing THUNK and you watched those too-bright eyes of his roll up into his head as he collapsed to the ground in a heap.

With the main source of all the Magical Warfare knocked unconscious, most of the miasma began to disperse—like dust caught up in a gale. The rain washed away the rest. It slid into the mud and seeped back into the earth. The plants and animals seemed to give a collective sigh, and some of your more courageous chickens even started to venture in close to peck at the leftover destruction.

You approached the felled Prince hesitantly. The talisman had been meant for subduing an enemy with a more human constitution, so you doubted it would keep him down for very long.

“Hey,” you grouched, poking his side. He twitched a bit but didn’t move otherwise. “Hey, asshole,” you tried again. Still, nothing. Uh oh.

You reached down to wedge an arm under him and hoist him upright. The singed skin of your forearm brushed along his jaw as you attempted to maneuver his bulk, and his nose twitched sharply at whatever scent was trapped in the dark, cracking, gash there. His brow scrunched up like you’d just doused him in spoiled milk, so naturally you went about waving your wounded flesh beneath his nostrils like the world’s strangest smelling salts.

After a moment he blinked back awake, face twisted up into the most properly disgruntled mien of distaste that you’d ever seen on a person who’d only just barely managed to claw their way back into the world of the living.

“Herbivore,” he rumbled, still looking more than a bit dazed.

Good enough.

You manhandled him back onto his feet as best you could—turning yourself into an impromptu crutch to try and get him mobile again. The sand shifted and sank beneath your heels, making dragging his ridiculous, dramatic, ass even more of a challenge. As you hauled him towards your cottage, you complained to him in earnest. Every little irritation under the sun. Half because you’d probably never have another opportunity to bitch at him so thoroughly without getting your own earful of grievances in return, half to keep him conscious—keep him focused on staying here. With you. And not… Wherever it was he’d gone in those moments of delirium.  

“I still don’t get why you call me that,” you griped, readjusting your grip on him when he’d started to slide down to the point his nose had buried itself against your collarbone. “Herbivore. I’ve cooked so much meat for you since you decided to crash here. Talked about how I prepare it, and the flavors I experiment with—I literally gave you some from my own sandwich when we first met! That I ate the rest of! In front of you!—”

When you finally herded him over the threshold and into your little cottage, the wards and their protection slipped around him like the soft current of a stream. You hardly even noticed the way the old magics ruffled his hair—and that was only because you were actively looking, half convinced the house was still about to toss up an invisible barrier and send him sprawling back into the dirt.

Leona wobbled on his feet, and his eyes were still too far away and grey.

You grabbed him by the ear and maneuvered his too-tall self into one of your rickety kitchen chairs. The wood groaned under the sudden press of his dead weight, but it didn’t collapse beneath him so it wasn’t worth fussing over. Once you were certain he wasn’t about to fold over sideways and crumple to the ground (or at least, that he was angled enough over a rug that he wasn’t going to crack his head on the stone floor), you rushed off to your bookcases and shelves and began hurriedly rumaging through your collection of nonsense.

The charms, the charms. Where were your emergency charms?! You’d thought you left them right there on the—Ah! There we go.

You pulled the raggedy binder from its place on the shelf, blew away the coating of dust that had settled over the top of it, and returned to your patient.

You flipped open the worn leather hooks and began sorting through the dozens upon dozens of sheets of enchanted parchment within. They were unimpressive—just small, rectangular, bits of faded paper inlaid with the softest kinds of magic. Not meant for much more than coaxing warmth into chilly limbs or placing a soft kiss over a scraped knee. But medicines were medicines—whether arcane in origin or otherwise. If you—if you just doused him in the things, that would probably work. Right? Of course it would. That made perfect sense.

So you slapped the first talisman square in the middle of his forehead. Leona swayed at the wet SMACK of the paper gluing itself to his soaked-through skin, but aside from the faintest, startled, widening of his eyes, he didn’t do anything else to complain. So you stuck the next charm to his cheek, and then another on the opposite one too.

“Magic overuse is dangerous,” you chastised as you went about layering a veritable novel’s worth of pasty, paper, enchantments up his arms. The soft spells worked their way into his skin, and you watched those twisting, black, shapes skitter back up towards where they’d once sat peacefully curled around his bicep. “Are you trying to kill yourself, hah?!”

Instead of snapping back at you like normal, he just sort of… sat there. Accepting your angry accusations in frosty silence. He absolutely looked like a cat that you’d fished out of a bag in the river. Pathetic, and sad, and droopy. And… quiet. So, very, quiet. You frowned, because as much as you didn’t particularly enjoy being insulted every minute of the day, the Lion’s biting little remarks had become… familiar, at the very least. Even if they weren’t entirely pleasant. Even if he was far from pleasant.

The dampness on his skin was starting to curl the edges of your talismans, and you reached forward with a huff to at least pull the freezing, soaked-through, vest off his shoulders. The leather jacket landed with a wet plap on the stone floor, a cold puddle already pooling around all its stupidly intricate, embroidered, edges. Something fluttered out of one of the open pockets—small, and off white, and crinkled. You stepped over the whole mess to retrieve a pile of towels and didn’t give it a second thought.

“Make a mess of my home, why don’t you,” you complained, dropping one of the towels over the entirety of his head before reaching forward to start drying him off with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. “Drip all over the floors I just mopped, why don’t you. Be emotionally constipated and almost turn my whole yard into a sand pit, why don’t you—”

A hand reached out to snag your wrist, and you let him pull you away from your attempts to rub all that stupidly thick hair straight off his head.

From beneath the curtain of the cotton towel, you could see Leona glaring at the long, dark, scratch curling along your forearm. It certainly wasn’t… nice to look at. The gymnastics of getting him into your cottage had managed to displace the impromptu bandage, so the whole of it was just there. Bruised, and dark, and odd looking. But ugly or not, it was hardly bleeding or anything anymore! And he was the one who had almost just self-destructed in your front yard!

‘Think of the accusations!’ you wanted to wail. ‘Can you imagine the garbage I would have to deal with if I wound up with a dead royal fertilizing my garden?! No thank you!’

But before you could complain about his fussing, his claws flexed against the soft skin of your palm and you saw the muscles along his forearm tense—like he was fighting to keep still.

“You should be dead,” he muttered, terse.

You huffed. “Look, I know you think humans are all sorts of pathetic, but I’m not that—”

“You should be dead,” he repeated, sounding as if the words had to tear their way out of his throat—scraping like shards of glass all the way up.

You stared at his dark eyes and dripping bangs—the shadows playing across his cheeks and the strange, hollow, wrongness that had settled over all of him. With a heavy sigh you plopped yourself down into the chair across from his and dragged a handful of the leftover charms your way. Pointedly, you took one and slapped it over the wound. And then another.  

“See?” you said, flexing your wrist in his grip to put the creeping, black, cut on display. The talismans glowed softly against your skin and the lingering whisps of darkness licking at the the injury began to fade. “All better. Not something a dead person would say at all.”

Leona frowned, but at least it looked a bit more annoyed than outright bleak. And besides, frowns were better than whatever that stoic, expressionless, numbness had been.

“Though I appreciate your concern,” you grinned, pointedly sharp and prodding. Like a toddler standing by with a stick, hoping to poke out a reaction. “Truly, whatever would I do without the Great Lord Lion there to fret over me?”

But instead of the acidic ‘I wasn’t fucking worried,’ that you were expecting, or even a more muted grumble of dissent, Leona’s brow just pinched in displeasure and your awkward attempts at teasing faded into terse silence.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost too quiet to hear—his head low and eyes lower.

You sighed and twisted your wrist around to pat at his hand. There was the faintest tremor in his fingers and you tangled your own between them to give him something to squeeze, something to hide the shiver of lingering malaise that he would no doubt deny with his dying breath. You observed the stern, tight, expression warping his otherwise handsome face—the miserable, puckered, angle of his mouth and the way the emerald of his eyes was cut through with a shadow of genuine remorse. You reached out with your other hand to pet at his soft, round ears. They squished flat beneath your palm and your lips twitched up into a fond, little smile. Leona tipped his chin just enough to glower at you from beneath his bangs with no real heat, and you sighed and gave him one more pat for good measure.

“You’re forgiven.”

.

.

.

TAG LIST [CLOSED]

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[myg-butterfly]

Nothing New

Ot7! BTS x Choreographer! Reader (Seokjin x Reader focused)

Summary: You get hurt and have to find a replacement. You just didn't think that replacement extended to your relationship with the BTS members. Will they still want you when you're nothing new?

Tags: ANGST (sorry), eventual fluff, Injured!Reader, Fem!Reader, Bangtan are kind of assholes, this isn't really proofread sorry, I also don't know how this shit actually works with Idol groups so I'm just making shit up lolsies.

A/N: HI omg sorry this took FOREVER. I was gonna have this done this weekend but we went to go visit family so I put this aside omg, but it's finalllyyyy here! I hope this lives up to your expectations. Thank you for all the love on the teaser, and remember, comments and feedback are always soooo appreciated!

Taglist: @bangteezbaby @thelilbutifulthings @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @juju-227592 @kikz165 @plexcaffeinate

All the members had just gotten home from rehearsal, and immediately went to find you just so they could throw silly little tantrums about you not being there.

The way they were pouting reminded you more of kicked puppies than world-wide sensations.

"It's fine guys, I know someone who can cover for me until I get better."

"But we like your choreography better." Taehyung whines into your shoulder and you pat his head in comfort.

"It's just a month or two, Tae."

You had broken your leg about a week ago, and consequently, you couldn't continue choreographing for the group until you were fully healed.

Which meant either the boys paused their learning, or you brought someone else in to cover for you - and you're all aware that pausing isn't really an option.

"But I'll miss you." Your boyfriends were overly dramatic, acting like you were leaving even though you all lived together.

"You'll still see me at home, it's not like I'm dropping off the face of the earth."

He huffs into your shoulder and rolls over so he's sitting next to you normally now.

"Anyway, how have you been? Have you felt okay?" Seokjin sits down on the other side of you and you feel yourself growing a bit shy under his caring stare.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

•••

"Hi! Thank you so much for covering for me. We're on a reall-"

"Save it, it's whatever. I always told you you'd need my help again at some point."

You don't like the implications in her tone but you pass it off with a small chuckle.

"Okay, so they already know 2 out of the 5 numbers for this album, and we were in the middle of learning the 3rd one. I taught it to Hoseok in advance so he can take over for that one. So you wouldn't need to be at the studio until next week. I'll send you the videos I took of the foundation of the other 2 numbers so you can learn it and then teach it."

She looked so uninterested in what you were saying, but you had to be professional.

You called her here in the first place.

"Kay, cool, got it. Also, can I get the guys' numbers? You know, just in case."

"Oh uhm, you can ask them when you see them next week… I'm not sure if they want me giving out their numbers to people they don't really know."

"Well they're gonna know me soon right? Don't be greedy, trying to keep all of them to yourself."

She giggles but you can feel that it's not really one of genuine giddiness and you hope that your discomfort isn't apparent.

"I'll ask them when I see them later today."

You plaster on the best smile you can and she gives you an equally forced one back.

"Okay. Bye!"

She basically struts away and you're left standing there; maybe calling her was the wrong move.

•••

Yep. Calling her was probably the wrong move. But it depends on which side of Y/N you ask.

On the professional side, this is absolutely great. They hit it off right away, all the boys growing comfortable with her rather quick (something HYBE valued a lot), and she was great at her job. Talented, bold, confident, friendly, the whole package.

On a more personal side, this was putting you on edge. How suddenly, all the guys would talk about was 'Joanna said this a rehearsal' or 'Joanna invited us out to eat'. It was always Joanna this Joanna that, and you knew they were just excited to have a new friend, to have someone who shares their passion, you couldn't help but wonder if their feelings for you were simply out of excitement. And now that you're not the newest thing around, would they still want you? Would they still talk about you with the same sparkle in their eyes as they do with Joanna? It left a pit in your chest.

And — yeah, calling her was the definitely the wrong move.

Finally, a long-awaited date with all of you. They were filled with energy, talking and joking on the ride there, and you felt your heart growing lighter, you still had them.

They even helped you get off the car with all the gentleness in the world, helped you get in your seat and made sure you were completely comfortable.

The lightness quickly weighed down into something much heavier when you saw Joanna walk in and make her way to the table.

And the weight felt like it had been dropped to you feet when the guys scooted to make space for her, Namjoon even standing up to hug her and letting her sit first so she'd be in between him and Jungkook.

How long has it been since they hugged you with such happiness?

"Oh my god, Y/N, hi! The boys didn't tell me you would be here."

Something about the way she said "the boys" made your hands itch, almost as much as your throat itched to say 'likewise'.

"Welp. I'm here. Haha."

Dinner wasn't fun, to say the least.

Joanna was blatantly saying shit to embarrass you the entire time, and it even worse, your boyfriends seemed to be soaking up her every word, laughing whenever she pointed out something embarrassing about you when she knew you in high school.

"Yeah! And when we choreographed together, she would always forget her parts." She lets out a giggle and Hoseok laughs too: what's so funny?

"It was only once or twice." You groan, mostly to yourself, but Joanna hears it.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Everyone laughs at her words again and suddenly, you start to think that staying home was the better option.

"I've always said she has the memory of a goldfish. Sometimes it felt like I was doing all the work because i constantly had to step in and help when Y/N froze up."

She turns to you when she speaks her next question:

"How are you doing now that I haven't been here to clean up after you? Are you making Jimin do it?" She laughs and nudges Jimin, who's sitting next to her, on the shoulder, and he happily shoves back with a bright smile on her face.

"I'm fine, it's rare that I forget stuff lately."

She gasps in a dramatic manner, you wish she would just disappear already.

"You? Not wasting time in rehearsal? Because you forgot? That's unheard of!"

You hate the way pretty much all of the guys laugh at her words: they know how much work you've put into being a good choreographer. Why were they laughing at you?

Suddenly, you feel the person next to you pressing up closer against you: Seokjin.

You look at him and he has a soft smile on his face, but not towards Joanna; his entire focus is on you.

"You have a really good memory darling. We can tell you've worked on it." The knot in your stomach softens its grip after hearing Seokjin's words, and for the first time since you got here, your smile is genuine.

"Anyways, how'd you injure yourself?"

"Oh, we were doing some cardio and I tripped. Fell at an awkward angle and it twisted my leg. Haha."

Joanna laughs a little too hard at this.

"I've always also said that for a supposed dancer you sure are clumsy as hell."

Some of the guys giggle at her comment, and you look down at your lap: why were they laughing at you?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seokjin sit up a little straighter, and you suspect he's gonna say something.

"Supposed dancer?" He raised a brow and to most people, it would've seemed like he was just egging onto the joke, but you and the rest of the table could tell that there was a serious undertone to his question.

It was no secret in your relationship with the guys that Seokjin had a specific soft spot for you – in a relationship as big as yours, its bound that all of you will have your weak spots for one another: Jungkook and Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung, Hoseok and Yoongi, you and Seokjin.

So you were more than relieved when he met your gaze from across the table; he knew you were uncomfortable.

And as everyone knows, he's not one to stay quiet.

"I just mean it's surprising that for someone so clumsy she went into the professional world where coordination is crucial."

Jungkook uses this point to tease Namjoon, and thankfully the attention is taken off of you. You catch Seokjin's stare again and this time it's accompanied with an apologetic smile and him reaching out his hand to hold yours.

As your hands meet on top of the table, you seem to be the only one who notices the look Joanna sends you at the display of affection.

•••

More days pass by and everyday they get home later and later until you're left going to bed on your own.

You'd made it a habit to wait for each other if one was out late, but it didn't happen often since you had almost the same working hours and when you went out, it was usually altogether.

You'd tried to keep that habit after your injury, but they were coming home later everyday, and you weren't sure you had it in you to keep staying up for them.

Especially on nights like this one, where when they do get home, you're dismissed almost entirely.

The door opens and you sit up, ready to greet them one by one with a hug and kiss, but most of them just mumble a "hey" or "hi Y/N" and walk straight to their rooms.

Only Jungkook and Seokjin genuinely acknowledge you, Jungkook giving you a hug and a peck on the forehead accompanied by a soft "Hi baby." before going to his room as well.

Seokjin also hugs you, but he picks you up while doing so: shifting you in his arms so he can carry you to bed with him.

As he begins to walk, your eyes meet and he sends a soft smile your way.

You barely start to relax in his hold when you realize that he's walking into your room, and you slightly panic at the thought that he's going to leave you alone in there.

Your slight panic turns into franticness as he sets you down and steps away from the bed.

"No! Don't-" Jin whips around at the sound of your voice, and you feel immediate guilt when you see his startled expression.

"Sorry, I- I know you're tired. Sorry, you can go."

Your attempts to decrease his worry don't seem to work, because he's already making his way back towards your bed.

"No, no. What happened? Whats wrong?"

"Its nothing." Seokjin gives you a stern look, you both know that lying to him is impossible.

"It's not nothing. Is it your leg? Or is it something else?"

"Its stupid" you mumble.

Noticing that you're unsure of yourself, he sits closer to you and brushes you hair out of your face in attempts to comfort you.

"Its not stupid if its bothering you" you feel your tears welling up again at how soft Seokjin's voice is. How soft he is with you.

"I just- I don't think I can be alone right now." You lean into his touch as you finally get at least some of the truth off your chest.

"You don't have to be. I was going to shower, do you want to join me?"

"I don't want to bother you."

"You won't."

"But my leg, I won't be able to stand for long."

"It's okay, we'll bring a stool in and I'll help you."

"But you're tired-"

"Never of taking care of you."

Something in your heart settles through the rest of the night, there is no other intention behind Seokjin asking you to join him.

He washes your hair and even dries it once you're out, he helps you get dressed and he goes to sleep holding you, and even if it's just for one night; all is right in the world again.

The next morning, Jin wakes you up and asks you if you'd like to come to rehearsal with the 7 of them. You're elated, to say the least. You knew it was a minimum thing, but your heart couldn't help but flutter at the thought that they wanted you around.

•••

Jin on the other hand, is pissed. Not at you, (never at you), but at his 6 boyfriends and how absolutely dense they could be, this being one of those moments.

He'd mentioned that you were coming with them, and all of them responded well: "I hope she likes the choreo!" "Yay! I want to hear what she has to say."

Their response to you tagging along wasn't the problem, no.

It was their response when he tried to tell them about how you were feeling that pissed him off:

"Wait guys, before we leave, I need to talk to you about something real quick."

All of them were attentive towards him immediately, so he thought they'd receive this better.

"It's about Y/N. And partially Joanna."

"Okay?"

"I talked to Y/N last night and she seemed upset. She didn't really want to talk about it but I'm almost completely sure that she's feeling left out, and I think it may partially be because of Joanna."

All of them begin to speak at once, until Taehyung's voice cuts through everyone else's.

"Why do you think it has something to do with Joanna?"

The 6 boys settle down and stare expectantly at Jin.

"Have you guys not noticed how backhanded all of Joanna's comments are towards her? Even when Y/N isn't present, she always makes a joke at her expense. And not to mention, we've been spending a lot of time with Joanna, much more than we've been spending with Y/N. I know if I were her I would feel hurt; being injured and spending the whole day cooped up alone while my boyfriends are spending all their time with someone who treats me like dog shit."

Jin wasn't sure what he was expecting the boys' reactions to be, but it definitely wasn't the outraged faces they were all giving him.

Jungkook is the first one to respond:

"I mean, I noticed the comments but I thought they were all in good fun? You know, since Y/N and Joanna have been friends for such a long time."

Taehyung cuts in next:

"And if Y/N is feeling left out, I mean I understand but what does that have to do with Joanna?"

Almost as if on cue, there's noise coming from the kitchen, meaning that you're awake.

Jin quickly gets up to go to you, but not before leaving the 6 boys with one final word, "Just pay attention to how she speaks to Y/N, you'll see what I'm talking about."

•••

It's hard to describe – the knowledge that you're being left behind without any obvious evidence surrounding you.

It's not something that everyone outside of your point of view might see, but you can feel it cutting through you deeply.

Not being able to do what you love, and on top of that, not being able to spend time with the people you love, it's a shattering feeling that claws through your chest.

Which leaves you where you are now: in the car with the rest of the boys on your way to rehearsal.

You thought that maybe being back in the studio would relight the spark that made the 7 men drawn to you in the first place, but even the car ride there felt cold and almost uncomfortable.

•••

The atmosphere changes the moment you step foot in the studio. It feels lighter, somehow. You don't know how to feel, not with the voice in your head insinuating that this lightness is because of Joanna; the guys are more at ease with Joanna than they are with you.

You usually hate being wrong: but now, you wish you could say the voice in your head was being irrational, yet you can't. Not when you turn around and see everyone besides Seokjin and Yoongi - who are off conversing to the side - gathered around Joanna, happily talking to her.

When did they stop looking at you like that?

Finally, she takes notice of your presence and makes her way over to you.

"Y/N, girly! Hey! Are you here to learn?"

You don't respond, confused as to what she's trying to ask you.

"Ya'know? Learn from the best! We've been so productive with this number."

She responds like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you almost feel offended at what she's insinuating.

"Oh, um- I'm here to see what the guys have done."

Joanna blinks at you, as if your answer threw her off, before continuing.

"Oh. Ok then. Cool! And are the boys cool with that?"

You can tell, she wants this to sound passive aggressive. Kind on the surface, but a clear jab at your insecurities.

Jungkook quickly cuts in;

"Of course. Why wouldn't we be cool with that?"

Joanna stutters through her response, being caught off guard by Jungkook as she thought no one had heard her remark.

"Oh! I don't know, you might get distracted? You know?"

"We'll be fine."

This time it's Jin who answers, and even if it's a little selfish, you're glad that his tone towards Joanna is automatically cold.

"Okay thennnn!"

She turns to you:

"But if you start being a distraction I'll have to ask you to step out. Heh, step out. That's funny."

She giggles at her little joke (at your expense), and makes her way into the practice room.

Rehearsal continues as usual, and you feel a bit lighter as the boys all make jokes and include you while they stretch and warm up.

They start to run through the choreography, and your heart swells with pride seeing them dance; all their hard work really does pay off.

As much as you wish to get up and dance with them, or even get up at all, you know you can't. But just seeing them perform will do.

Once they finish, you start to clap and Jimin and Jungkook turn towards you with a playful vow.

"Its looking really good guys!"

All of the boys respond with a 'thank you' and a smile.

"I do have a couple pointers about some things I noticed-"

"Okay, let's run it again!" Before you could finish your sentence you're cut off by Joanna's squeaky voice.

Thankfully, Hoseok cares about what you have to say, and the rest seem to agree as well.

"Wait, I wanna hear what Y/N had to say."

"Yeah! It's felt weird learning a brand new number and not having any of your input on it."

"Y/N, go on." Seokjin is the one who speaks last, and the look in his eyes tell you that things will be alright.

"Ok, so first thing make sure you guys are agreeing on your directions, make sure that it's either a complete diagonal or if its a slanted move so you all move the same direction-"

"Oh yeah, I explained that to them already, they know." You're once again cut off by Joanna.

You use this as a chance to tease the boys, as you always normally.

"Oh, then why are y'all making that mistake huh?" Your tone is playful, and you see Hoseok step towards you with all the intent of playing along, when a gasp coming from your right stops you both.

"Did you come in here just to criticize?"

Of course it's Joanna.

"Wha- no. I was just teasing them. The dance looks grea-"

"I told you you were gonna distract them, and what did I say I was gonna do if you got them unfocused?"

"I didn't mean to, I was just giving pointers-"

"I've been teaching them for the last few weeks, I know what they need to focus on right now."

"But I know that it can look cleaner than it did right now."

"Well this is my choreography! I know what's best! You don't get to come in here and just start shitting on my work because what? You're jealous?! You think you're better than everyone else?!"

You're taken aback when Joanna starts to scream at you, so much so that you try to step back, completely forgetting that one of your feet is injured.

As you place your foot down, a soaring pain strikes from your foot all the way to your thigh. A sob escapes you and that's when Jin's protective nature kicks in full force.

In the blink of an eye, he's crouching next to you and picking you up while everyone else in the rooms stands frozen in place.

The ice is shattered when a wail comes from somewhere else in the room: it's Joanna.

Everyone's head whips to her direction, but for very different reasons.

Jin, for one, is beyond disbelief that she'd go as low as fake crying to get the attention back on her.

The rest of the guys seemed concerned, but not because of her. Rather because they just saw her true colors, how Jin was right, how they'd neglected you.

Seokjin picks you up and rushes out the door, leaving everyone else in the room frozen.

•••

You don't really process anything that happens afterwards. You just know Seokjin is with you as you go to the doctor to get your foot checked out, and that's enough to push you into a state where you know you can space out.

You couldn't comprehend it, how you were hurt and the rest of them weren't there.

Did they even care you were hurt?

It didn't make sense, that you were asking yourself this. When had things gotten this bad? How could they have let thing get this bad? It left you aching more than your injury, and you think that shouldn't even be possible.

When you get home, you find all the boys kitchen, a mess everywhere -much to Jin's despair- attempting to decorate what you assume is a cake. They're all focused to the point where they didn't hear you come in, and if they did, they're really good at acting like they didn't. You want to hide in your room, maybe ask Jin to hide with you, play into their ignorance, but the petty part in you is much quicker.

"Joanna doesn't like cake."

You speak without thinking about it first, and it's clear that none of them were expecting a comment like that, not even Jin, because their heads whip around instantly to you.

You panic for a little, thinking they'll get mad, but Hoseok and Yoongi start laughing at Namjoon's terrified face, at the maknae line looking like they're deer in headlights, and at Jin's round eyes.

Before you know it, They're all running up to you, and Seokjin has to grab you by the waist to make sure they don't knock you over.

They all speak at once, and you can only make out some things like "are you okay? what did the doctor say? im sorry." What cuts through all the rambling is Namjoon's smooth voice, sounding a bit exasperated as he speaks: "The cake is for you Y/N. We were making the cake for you."

Oh.

"Joon! You ruined the surprise!" Jimin stomps his feet, but you know he's not actually upset.

"Well we couldn't just let her think that we were baking a cake for fuckin Joanna!" Namjoon defends himself.

Yoongi steps in front of the two and turns to you, "It was supposed to be a 'Surprise / I'm sorry / We love you / Get well soon' cake but you got here before we finished."

His genuinely dejected demeanor makes you giggle, he looks like a sad cat.

"It's okay-"

"No it's not. Cake or not, we're all really sorry- hold on, we should sit down for this." Jungkook grabs your hand and leads you to the couch, the rest following suit.

You all sit in silence for a second before Hoseok speaks up:

"Well I guess I'll start." He sits up a little straighter so he's facing you directly, and you feel nerves run through you: was he upset? Was he going to scold you?

The guys seem to notice how you tense up, because Hoseok's face falls a into a small frown, while Jungkook scoots closer to you and Jin places a hand on your thigh.

"Y/N, I am so so sorry for the way we've been acting, and the way we haven't been acting. You got hurt under our watch, we should be the ones taking care of you, no questions asked, and we've failed to do that. There's really no excuse for how inattentive we've been. In our heads, or at least my head, I didn't really see you all day, so I thought that everything was okay because I still got to wake up to you, I still got to come home and feel comfortable knowing that you were here: we had your company. But I failed to return that company, we all failed to give you the bare minimum, and I truly am so sorry."

For the time you've know Hoseok, you've only seen him cry once or twice, so when you see tears start to fall from his eyes, it shakes you up and down. Before you can go console him, Jimin speaks up from where he sits beside Hoseok.

"Hobi's right, Y/N. We didn't pay you enough attention. We were too worried about ourselves to consider how our actions looked to you. The whole thing with Joanna, we did spend a lot of time with her, but even then, all we did was talk about you. Not in a bad way, obviously, but you just always came up in conversation. I don't know why I thought that talking about you would translate as 'we're still giving you our attention' as if you could read our thoughts or something. But again, we were selfish and careless, and I can't apologize enough for how we acted."

You appreciate Jimin's attempt at lightening up the mood, and you appreciate his words overall.

The next hour goes by in the same manner. The boys apologize one by one, not to just you, but to Seokjin as well, and before you know it, there's no one in the room that isn't crying, all of you a teary and snotty mess.

"We love you so much, Y/N. Please let us make it up to you. I love you so much." Yoongi's the last one to speak, and he finishes while walking up to you and bowing at your feet.

The rest of the guys join him, even Seokjin, and you don't know what else to do except throw yourself on the floor with all of them and cry.

The night ends with all of you cuddled up on the floor, until Namjoon and Jin make you all get up so you could go lay down properly.

They guys don't let you walk, no, Jungkook carries you while Taehyung and Jimin squish at his side in an attempt to stay close to you.

You all manage to squeeze into a single bed with you in the middle, hands everywhere trying to keep you close.

You feel warmer than you have in weeks, and meanwhile the guys do have a lot to make up for, with arms wrapped around you and sweet nothings floating in the room, you think this is a great start.

[inbarfink]

So the AA Fandom has no shortage of jokes about how our favorite Anime Laywers generally prioritize stuff like the Power of Friendship above more mundane concerns like 'getting paid for doing their job' but...seriously now, how often do they actually get paid for lawyering?

Well, welcome to...

The Big Overview of WAA Lawyers and Actually Getting Paid!!

The vast majority of AA Cases do not discuss payments for legal services explictly, so I will be Ranking how probable I feel it is the Lawyers got Paid. With a 0 standing for 'explictly and unambigiously did not get paid' and 1 standing for 'explictly and unambigiously did get paid'

The First Turnabout

That's an easy one, it is actually explicitly mentioned that no, Larry did not pay Phoenix for his services as a Lawyer.

And so, my first trial came to a close. Larry slapped me on the back and said, "Gee, Nick, it's good to have friends!" But I'm pretty sure he's not going to pay us. Unless you count the clock he gave Mia.

Which is brought up again months later during 'Turnabout Goodbyes'

Butz: Whoa… Nick. S-so, is that why you helped me out for free? Phoenix: Uh… yes. I helped you because I believed in you. (Except I don't remember saying I'd do it for free…)

So Phoenix expected and wanted to get paid, but he’s just, like, not assertive enough to get his money off Larry. And thus a long legacy of Not Getting Money was born!

Probability of Getting Paid: 0

Turnabout Sisters

Okay, so the subject of money does not come up directly in ‘Turnabout Sisters’ but like… Maya does not seem to have a lot of liquid funds on her at this point. For most of the games she generally relays on Phoenix to pay for things for her. At best right now she is semi-dependent on Morgan for cash - and considering her motivations, she probably came out with some excuse like ‘oooh Mystic Maya must prove her independence in such a dire situation or something, the whole Fey Family is broke we can’t afford to give you any more money I feel so bad ooooh’.

So I think if Phoenix got paid for defending her that was mostly a token symbolic gesture of gratitude more than actually anything that’ll help him pay the rent. And obviously Phoenix wouldn’t gain anything if he paid himself for that second trial of the case lol

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.1

Turnabout Samurai

Okay, so this is the first case where I think it is more likely than not Phoenix Actually Got Paid. There’s nothing textual, but I think with the implications of Phoenix starting the case fretting over how to pay the rent:

Phoenix: A month has passed since my trial. Mia's murder was the talk of the town for some time… But no one paid any attention to the Wright & Co. Law Offices… How am I going to pay the rent this month? Maya: It'll be okay. I'm sure some big client is just around the corner! Phoenix: Hmph.

And THEN his new Client is Will Powers who is:

a fairly sucessful actor whose life and career seems to be unglamorous but financially stable.

the first cilent Phoenix has who isn't a friend, a relative-of-a-friend or Literally Himself

generally just a really nice and wholesome guy.

It seems pretty likely to me that Phoenix and Maya got paid for this one!

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.8

Turnabout Goodbyes

OKAY so, I've seen folks say that Phoenix would've probably done this for free cause he sees this whole thing as repaying a debt for Being Nice to Him in Fourth Grade because as we all know, Phoenix is a Certified Ridiculous Human Being.

Phoenix: This is my chance to finally pay you back. Maya: Pay him back…? Edgeworth: Pay me back? For what? I don't remember ever doing anything for you. Phoenix: Never mind… I guess you don't really need to know.

Buuuuut... Larry at the time was also part of that Class Trial Bestie Pact and Phoenix did expect him to pay I mean Larry is not the Love of His Life but still.

And more important, this case ALSO established that Miles has a problem expressing gratitude and overcompensate using financial gifts.

Phoenix: Thank you. Oh, wait! Umm… I was wondering, how much is bail going to be? Gumshoe: Don't worry about that. Mr. Edgeworth is posting the whole amount. Phoenix: What? Edgeworth…? Gumshoe: Didn't I tell you? He's grateful to her for what she did. Alright, pal. Well don't forget to go pick her up, okay? Phoenix: (Hmm… Maybe I can get Edgeworth to pay this month's rent, too…)

So I feel, like, regardless of what Phoenix wanted - at the end of this trial - Miles IS going to make sure he is GETTING PAID. Dude was probably shoving checks into his mailbox like a full month after the trial concluded.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.9

Rise from the Ashes

So... the person who initially hires Phoenix to the case is Ema Skye, a 16 year old girl whose main funds are her allowance. And Phoenix was kinda willfully ignoring his financial situation at the start and only took this case for sentimental reasons. (just more evidence that Miles was STILL sending him payments for 'Goodbyes' lol)

It's been two months since Maya left the office… Two months without a single trial. I've had offers… But none I took. That is… until the day that girl showed up.

However he does get 'formally requested' by her probably-well-off-considering-prosecutors-in-this-series older sister shortly thereafter.

Lana: … Mr. Wright? Phoenix: Y-yes? Lana: I believe our discussion here is ended. The rest… I leave to you. Phoenix: …! Um… you mean, you're requesting my services as your defense? Lana: Don't lose any sleep over it. Your client has confessed, after all. The case is over. Phoenix: Right… I'll do what I can to get to the bottom of this. Lana: …

And after a very long and harrowing journey of being in-conflict with his own client, Lana did end up being very grateful for what he did. And again, this case espacially emphasizes that 'prosecutors make the big bucks' - so she had both the means and will to pay him.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.6

The Lost Turnabout

Alrighty, so, Maggey is generally a nice girl and also a fangirl of Phoenix Wright and that gives her an incentive to support him financially...

Actually, I really love to watch court proceedings, and I always root for you to win! When I'm off duty, I like to come here and…

But with how unlucky she is, that might imply that she could have Money Troubles. Although on the other hand she at least has a stable job at the moment... But on the other OTHER hand she does mention how all the other lawyers 'laughed her off'

Just when I thought all hope was lost; when all the other lawyers had laughed me off… "Leave it to me!" you said! You! The one and only Phoenix Wright came to save the day! And just like that, I was moved to tears, sir! I'll never forget what you're doing for me, EVER!

Which usually I wouldn't note as a financial thing. Usually when an AA Defendant is like 'oooh I have no one else to turn too, all the other lawyers turned me down......" this is because the case is considered too impossible to win or Unbearably Wacky (or some sort of conspiracy like with Maya in 'Sisters'). But, like, this is a Tutorial Case. Phoenix won that one with Fucking Amnesia. The 'impossibility' of the case was not the issue, so, yeah, it might legitimately be the money?

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.4

Reunion, and Turnabout

It's Maya Murder Trial Time Again! Pretty much the same as before with the two added factors being:

Maya is now officially employed in the Wright & Co. Law Offices during the duration of the trial.

AFTER the Trial, when Morgan is like, in jail - Maya might have a bit more acess to her family funds. Although they are established to Not Be Doing Well Financially in general....

A piece of cloth with a ton of finely-written characters jammed onto it. Probably esoteric knowledge only mediums should know. …Hmm, let's see… Here's one in English… It says… "100 Ways to Save Money". … Being a medium sounds like a rough way of life…

I think all in all these kinda even out to the same Chances of Getting Paid at last time??

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.1

Turnabout Big Top

So if you ever start discussing how pointless the AA 'middle cases' are - just remember this one crucial detail; they are the most reliable way Phoenix Wright gets food on his plate! We once again have a stranger (that Phoenix won't feel obligated to defend for free) that is very explictly Fabulously Wealthy.

He's not as nicey-nice as Will Powers is but I feel like paying Phoenix's legal fees is not something Max will bet an eye at.

Phoenix: It's a table for guests… There are some papers scattered on top. Maya: Ah! Look at this! Max's salary is written on this piece of paper. YIKES! Phoenix: W-What is it? Maya: I didn't know a magician… This salary is incredible! Phoenix: (She looks like she's about ready to pass out from shock…) How much is it!? How much is it!? T-T-THAT MUCH!? Maya: Incredible, huh? Phoenix: You can say that again.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

Farewell, My Turnabout

Okay so this is the Big One. This one’s a really complicated one to determine.

Let’s just get the first thing out of the way, the fact that Phoenix “”lost”” the case does not matter one way or another. Criminal Defense Lawyers, as a general rule, do not work on a Contingency Fee Basis. That means they are paid regardless of the result of the trial. So if this was a normal trial, Phoenix would probably be paid.

But this was not a normal trial, was it?

Phoenix was FORCED to work as a Defense Attorney due to a KIDNAPPER. And, like, my first instinct is ‘if you are already forcing someone to work via criminal means, why the hell would you also pay them??’ 

Buuuuut….. This is MY instinct, not the instinct of goddam Shelly De Killer. 

Since Shelly’s whole thing is being the Honorable Assassin, and he has some level of respect towards Phoenix as like a Fellow Professional. I can see him thinking maybe wanting Phoenix to get paid for the work he is Coercing Him To Do Under Threat of Murdering His Best Friend for the sake of Honor. 

But also also, Phoenix’s terms are not officially with De Killer, it’s with This Asshole!

And Matt Engarde is absolutely the kind of guy to casually take advantage of Phoenix’s frantic ‘please please just let me be your lawyer or my Friend is gonna Die!’ thing where, like, obviously getting paid is NOT gonna cross through Phoenix’s head atm in order to not pay/severely underpay the guy even though he can obviously afford it.

All in all, things are not looking good for this case’s probability, which is a shame considering how it ends.

Powers: Um, anyway… So, who's paying for this lovely dinner party? Maya: As if you need to ask! Everyone say, "Thank you" to Nick! Phoenix: Huh? Gumshoe: Ah, yeah… I'm kinda at the point where I can't even buy instant noodles, pal. So I kinda already put your name on the bill.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.3

Turnabout Memories

First time covering a Lawyer that’s not Phoenix!

Now, Mia’s client in this case is a college student who probably doesn't have tons of personal funds, and considering her own motivations for taking on the case she probably would’ve done it for free but…

At the time she was employed at the Grossberg Law Offices, and Phoenix hired just the office in general and then Mia took over the case just last night.

Grossberg: Still, you surprised me… What, with your earnest request last night… "Let me handle this case!" you suddenly said. And quite forcefully, too! Mia: I just found out yesterday. About the case, I mean.

So... really this is just the Vibes I get from the Grossberg Law Offices, being generally the more professional and by-the-book law offices compared to the utter chaotic energy of Wright and Co, that makes me assume that they usually reliably charge their clients and pay their lawyers.

There’s some evidence further down the line (which we’ll get to soon) that some of their lawyers do some pro-bono work - but I dunno if Phoenix’s case was extreme enough to necessitate that (I mean he might be a broke college student but his family would probably help him with the legal funds although that assumes they even exist) . So my assumption is that Mia probably did get paid. Probably?

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.75

The Stolen Turnabout

So, Ron DeLite used to really financially struggle to keep up with his wife’s shopaholic habits - but that seems to have stabilized ever since his ‘benefactor’ showed up. So I’d assume he still has some funds left to pay his lawyer. I mean I guess it won’t be totally implausible if Desiree did manage to blow through them all…. Or maybe being a a high-spending shopaholic means that she’d want to pay extravagantly for her lawyer as well?

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

Recipe for Turnabout

It’s Maggey again! And now she’s:

Closer to a friend, or at least a friend-of-friend. Rather than Just Another Client.

Is probably in a more dire financial state than before, on account of being unemployed and also in jail for the last two months.

Also being a waitress isn’t that prestigious a job anyways 

And if anyone is gonna help her cover her legal fees it could only be Gumshoe which… does not bode well to anyone involved!

Pissed at Phoenix cause it took her some time to realize that no, that guy who got her found guilty two months ago is not him

So basically everything that changed since her last trial makes it less likely that Phoenix charged for his legal services. I'm sure she'd try her best by the end, but Phoenix might just wave it off to save everyone a headache.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.3

Turnabout Beginnings

So first things first I want to reiterate that Criminal Defense Attorneys generally get paid regardless of if they ‘win’ and while I couldn’t find any concrete statements about the matter - I believe they get paid even if their clients die mid-trial??? I mean, the legal fees just get added to their posthumous debts? So the lawyer would hypothetically be able to claim their due payment from the deceased’s remaining funds and possessions. If they wanted to, that is…

Cause, well, this is why I said the Grossberg Law Offices might do some pro-bono cases. Terry Fawles was, like, a part-time tutor who has been incarcerated for the last five years. If he has any family or friends outside that could help him with his legal fees, he never mentions them. 

So I’m really not sure if he bought Mia services or if she volunteered to do this pro-bono after hearing he had no options for legal representations out of concern for, like, prisoners rights. 

And even if he was supposed to pay Mia for her service, after the grim ending of the case - I’m not sure if she would’ve even tried to pursue getting her legal fees from Fawles’ posthumously/from his next of kin. From how deeply traumatized she was by that trial, I think that would’ve only made her feel worse about the whole situation. 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.05

Bridge to the Turnabout

Iris is a nun from a small temple that is mentioned to not-be-doing-so-hot (cause it’s tied with the Kurain Channeling Technique and it’s been on a downturn since DL-6), but she does have at least enough personal funds to have her own cell-phone and occasionally go into town. So it’s not a lot, but I think it’s enough to get Phoenix at least a a symbolic token-of-gratitude payment.

Also, it might be possible Phoenix will wave off the fees due to the Personal Connection to the case. You know, he was doing this primarily to Uncover the Truth and get some personal closure for the Dahlia mess.... Or maybe not, cause he did still get paid (or tried to get paid, or forced to get paid) to save his two Fourth-Grade-Life-Debt Childhood Best Friends in court?

(And I do mean just Phoenix, Miles probably would never charge for his services as ‘acting defense attorney’, we don’t need that farce to get any farcier)

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.3

Turnabout Trump

Now this is a complicated one, let us list the factors here one-by-one:

1. As per Apollo’s comment in the next episode, the Gavin Law Offices probably operated strictly quid pro quo.

(Good-bye, quid pro quo. Hello pro bono. sigh)

2. Phoenix is supposedly friends with the boss of the Agency. And in reality, Kritoph Gavin has a very VERY vested interest in making sure the trial goes According to Plan. Incentivising him to at least give Phoenix a discount.

3. Phoenix is also not doing that great financially right now. 

4. Oh right, that entire law agency disbanded once the boss got arrested at the end of the trial!

…Speaking of which, I may be out of a job. I work for Gavin Law Offices, after all. (I still can't believe I just saw Mr. Gavin get led away in handcuffs…)

I think it is most likely that Phoenix got some sort of “”Friend”” Discount from Kristoph. But I really don’t know what happens if an entire law firm gets disbanded right after the trial cause the owner got arrested as a result of it. It probably depends on whether Phoenix was in agreement with the Gavin Law Offices who then assigned Apollo on the case or if Phoenix had an agreement with Apollo directly.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.5

Turnabout Corner

Oh hey, look! Another rare case of an Ace Attorney that actually discusses the issue of money directly!

Well, I mean we know how much Apollo got paid for solving the case of Phoenix’s accident and Trucy’s panties (nothing) and for solving Eldoon’s Noodle Cart Theft (a free bowl of ramen). We don’t see them directly discuss the subject of payment regarding Apollo’s Actual Job…

Apollo: Your request… let me guess, something's been stolen? Alita: Um, your flyer… It says "now defending" so I thought… Apollo: Whaaaat!? You mean, you mean you want me to defend you? Me? Trucy: Maybe you can tell us what happened? Were you hit by a car? Did someone steal your stand? Or your panties? Alita: No! No… I'm not the client, actually. The client would be my… well, my fiancé, I suppose you'd call him. Apollo: Fiancé…? What happened to him, then? Alita: He was arrested this morning. The charge… was murder.

But as he was complaining before about not only being pigeonholed as some sort of a detective, but also not getting paid for anything…

Um… I was wondering when I get paid? We solved the case of your accident, and um, found a missing article of clothing.

And then getting this job and being so happy about it...

Trucy: Polly! You look as happy as a clam in its shell. Apollo: For a lawyer this is it, the place where the battle begins!

Implies that He’s Getting Paid - just as much as with Phoenix’s rent stuff in ‘Turnabout Samurai’ if not more. 

Also, I don’t think the fact that the person who hired him wanted him to fail and is now going to prison is a factor here.

As I already mentioned, Defense Attorneys get paid regardless of the outcome of a trial and logically that would apply both when they lose and when they win. Plus, I am pretty sure Alita filed her request officially through Wocky’s name or the Kitaki family in general and they were obviously very grateful for what Apollo did, and they had both the wins and wills to pay him.

So let’s give a big round of applause for Apollo Justice, the WAA Lawyer most likely to get paid!

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.99

Turnabout Serenade

These kind of showbiz-focused Middle Cases are generally pretty good for Getting Paid Probabilities, but this case is a bit more complicated.

Cause the plot of this case hinges on Machi being so desperate for money that he was willing to risk death via cocoon smuggling,

Situation… I cannot explain. But money. I needed. Very much money.

That doesn’t necessarily mean he was unable to afford a lawyer - without details of why exactly he needed that Sweet, Sweet Cocoon Money we can’t be sure.  But it’s plausible that hiring Apollo was not out of his price range but he was desperate for something far more expensive. 

Considering his young age and… you know, until the final day of the trial he pretended to not understand a word of English, it’s also possible hiring Apollo was a matter handled by Lamirior and/or the duo’s agency. Both of which will probably feel committed to Actually Paying, each from their own angle. 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

Turnabout Succession

Now, HERE’S a complicated one! 

Going generally over the usual stuff, Vera is a pretty nice person and she’s clearly grateful for what Apollo and Trucy did for her. And while the Misham Family was driven into forgeries by financial desperation, at the present-time they seem stable enough that Vera could at least afford the rates of the WAA. If this was just another case, it’ll get like a solid 0.7 at minimum. Pretty typical stuff by now.

But this isn’t just one more ordinary case. This a weird sort of ‘Test Trial’ for the Jurist System with every factor - including the Defendant and the Attorney - arranged by Phoenix’s weird little committee.

Well, for one, I'll be chair of the Jurist System Simulated Court Committee. The chair constructs the ideal situation… choosing the case, the jurist candidates… …even the judge and the courtroom.

Apollo: So… what kind of case is the trial simulation about? Phoenix: Well, since it is the first run through of a new system, I wanted something simple. Trucy: Good thinking! No sense wearing yourself out on something too serious! Phoenix: True. The case is a murder. Apollo: That's not simple at all!! Trucy: By "simple", did you mean that the defendant is… Phoenix: …Guilty. Yes. Most likely. …So, good luck, Apollo. Apollo: Um… with what? Phoenix: With the trial tomorrow. You're defending, of course. Recall that I said it had something to do with you.

So I guess the question here, did Phoenix basically make Vera officially hire Apollo? Did the committee hire Apollo and they’re the one paying him? Is this another case of Phoenix trolling Apollo into doing Free Volunteer Work for him?

Honestly I wouldn’t put that past the AA4 version of Phoenix..............but also if he did that I doubt he would’ve missed a chance to crack a joke at Apollo’s expense about that. 

...You know, I started this thread of thought with the thought I’m arguing for a lower Getting Paid score for this case but I think I just talked myself into increasing the probability.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.8

Also bonus round: THE TRIAL OF SHADI ENIGMAR!

Zero fucking chances Phoenix got paid on this one. HIS CLIENT DISAPPEARED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE COURT PROCEEDING! And even if Phoenix gets paid before a trial is concluded (unlikely, since he didn’t know Larry wasn’t paying him until after the case was closed), he was his attorney for like half-a-day before he disappeared so wouldn’t have much of a chance either way.  And considering Zak’s character (and how he also tried to sabotage Phoenix’s current Poker-based career seven years after that), I doubt he put that much thought into Phoenix and his financial considerations to give him a down payment in case he had to to do his disappearnce act or whatever. The only thing Zak left Phoenix with when he left was his goddam abandoned child and ONE LESS BADGE!

So I think this case deserves a very special score!

Probability of Getting Paid: -1

Turnabout Countdown

It’s time for Athena’s first case! Or second case, depending on how you look at it.

Now, one of the major ways that Dual Destinies is gonna shake this Deep Serious Analysis up is that before we had, like, one Active Full-Time Lawyer at any time (maybe with a backup lawyer for Flashback Cases), and we now have Three Different Lawyers actively working together on the same cases. My main concern is primarily not which WAA Lawyers get paid for these cases, but IF any of them got paid at all. Still, shenanigans of cases changing hands officially and unofficially are gonna play a factor in my analysis as well.

And it’s here right from the start! We once again have a Lawyer defending their bestest friend in the whole world, and while some people’s instincts might suggest that means that Defense was for free, well… First things first, we already established Precedence for that back in the first trial of the first game with Larry (not for Lawyers getting paid by their friends, but at least expecting payment) and Juniper’s family is probably doing Just Fine considering she attends this super-fancy-pant prestigious Lawyer High School - so she would want to financially support Athena I would think.

And ALSO, Juniper technically didn’t hire Athena, Apollo was the one supposed to defend Junie in court at first. And although Juniper is… growing closer to Apollo at this point in canon, I don't think it's quite the ‘defend me in court for Free’ point of their relationship, compared to where Juniper and Athena are at. So this is just, like, one extra point to the Final Score!

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

The Monstrous Turnabout

So in this episode, we actually have two different jobs we need to make sure if Apollo actually got paid for. We have the actual criminal defense case, and we also have Babysitting Trucy.

Trucy: Oh, we'd better hurry. Doesn't look Daddy's going to make it, so let's get going. Apollo: Huh? Where are we going? What about the job he mentioned? Trucy: This IS the job, Polly! You're supposed to keep me company today! Now, come on! Apollo: Another day of not being a lawyer. Should've seen this coming. Trucy: Well, this is the "Wright ANYTHING Agency," y'know. And there's no law-related work at the moment, so… Apollo: (Tell me again why I chose to "work" here?) Where is Mr. Wright, anyway?

That being said, Phoenix might still be a bit of a troll but the WAA is doing a lot better financially now that Trucy has those Sweet Gramarye rights and he’s not quite as mean to Apollo as he was back in Hobomode. So I get a feeling that even with this little runaround, Apollo is probably at least getting paid for chaperoning Trucy around?? Probably?

The actual case is actually a lot more clear cut. It is directly mentioned that Damian Tenma could probably afford lawyers much more prestigious than the WAA, it’s just a matter of the WAA being the only ones crazy enough to take on this ‘doomed’ case. 

Trucy: Apollo! Maybe this is your chance. Apollo: Chance for what? Trucy: To do the right thing and defend Jinxie's dad in court! Apollo: Who, me? Wouldn't a man like Mayor Tenma have access to more experienced lawyers? Jinxie: Umm… You wanna know what the detectives said? They doubted there was a lawyer who could get a not-guilty verdict in this one.

And with Mayor Tenma’s personality being based around being almost overly-generous and grateful…

Tenma: How… incredibly… RUDE! Apollo: Umm, sorry. Did I do something to offend you? Tenma: A visitor when all others shun me like a common criminal! And here I am with nothing to offer! I am the epitome of rude! Apollo: (………Wait, so he wasn't mad at me?)

I feel like it is almost a certainty that Apollo and Athena did get paid for this case! 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.85

Turnabout Academy

Okay so, it’s Junie again! Or Junie for the first time depending on how you look at it!

So all of the points I already brought up about Juniper from ‘Countdown’ still apply (save for the stuff about Apollo, of course) but ALSO this is right when Athena and Juniper reunited and their whole emotional arc in this case is about Athena feeling Juniper is being Uncharacteristically Cold and Distant towards her. So defending her on a Friend Discount would be a bit strange at this point. Maybe I can see Athena trying to insist she’d do it for free but Juniper refused?

Although I think that IS a bit weird that they had this big whole scene with Professor ScaryStatue taking over Juniper’s case and the issue of payment doesn’t even come up in passing. I mean, yes obviously, the issues of Trust and Truth and Aristotle Means being Sus as Fuck are the important things in this narrative but I’m suprised there’s not even a mention in passing. Like Means accusing Athena and Apollo of wanting this case back for the Money but they refute him???

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.8

The Cosmic Turnabout

Okay, look, I know I keep bringing up the Larry Precedence but it really IS quite relevant. If Actual Overly-Sentimental Human Disaster Phoenix Wright tried to charge a rate for his childhood best friend who was drifting through life doing weird odd jobs at that time. - Then Apollo, who is generally more practical minded, is probably going to charge a rate for his older acquaintance with the stable Astronaut Job. And while Solomon is a bit of a Space Larry, I don’t think he’d try and avoid the payment in quite the same way. Probably.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

Turnabout for Tomorrow

This trial has Phoenix defending one of his own employees in a trial forced on by a hostage situation. I feel silly even extending this paragraph any longer. 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.01

Turnabout Reclaimed

First things first, yes, an Orca cannot pay for an attorney - but I assume that the person who hired Phoenix is officially Sasha Buckler. Who IS a human being with her own funds capable of hiring a lawyer. Especially as we know that other lawyers turned her down specifically because her case is ridiculous (and not for financial reasons). 

Phoenix: What's the real reason you picked me, Sasha? Buckler: …Well, to be honest, I asked a whole slew of lawyers, but they all refused. They said stuff like, "There's no merit to taking your case," or "I'm not sure I can help." They're all as cruel as sharks, with hearts punier than whitebait!

She does mention doing a performance as thanks at the ending of the trial but that’s probably no replacement for Actual Money.

But I think most notable for our analysis about this case, is not actually any of the Orca stuff - it’s this exchange right here.

Blackquill: Today, the orca. Tomorrow, Sasha Buckler. You intend to save them both? Hmph. You say you "believe" in your clients, but isn't money really your true motivation? Why not admit you're only doing this for your own benefit? I could understand that much more readily than your empty, righteous talk. Athena: Our own benefit?! That's not why we're doing it! Phoenix: Now, Athena. Try not to let him get to you.

Yet another rare case of the game Acknowledging Lawyers Are Paid As a General Rule! And notably, when Phoenix and Athena deny it, they don’t deny the fact that they are getting paid - just that it’s not why they’re doing this. This is not exactly an explicit confirmation of Getting Paid to get the score up to a full 1, but it’s probably as close as we’re gonna get. 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.95

The Foreign Turnabout

Okay, so Phoenix basically just bursted into the Courtroom and bluffed his way onto the empty defense bench despite the protests of his own so-called Client. Said client also only started unlearning his Defense-Attorney-Hate during that same trial. And is ALSO a tiny little child who has to work part time as a tour-guide to make end’s meet. I highly doubt Phoenix asked for anything more than, like, a very token rate or maybe a discount on his next tour. 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.1

The Magical Turnabout

Considering how this case has a WAA Lawyer defending the actual CEO of the WAA, I highly doubt the WAA got any money from it. But maybe Trucy could give him some of her personal funds as a token of gratitude?

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.2

The Rite of Turnabout

It’s MAYA TIME again! And while some consideration has to go to her bond with Phoenix or the possibility of some sort of Frequent Accused card the WAA issued for her - the fact that she is not currently a Coworker at the law office and has been an Actual Independent Adult for quite some time now means it is actually a lot more likely she’s able to pay Phoenix now than in any case in the Original Trilogy!

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.5

Turnabout Storyteller

This one’s a pretty average case. The Defendant is not a total stranger, but he is more of a friend-of-a-friend (and Simon was originally planning to get Apollo or Phoenix into the courtroom so the connection was even more distant when he contacted the WAA). He seems to be doing alright financially with his own noodle business, and he’s a pretty alright kinda guy. The only possible concern is that he’s too totally slushed to remember he’s supposed to pay his attorney. But then again, Simon might be ‘officially’ the one who hired the lawyer for the case.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.6

Turnabout Revolution

It’s time for the THREE CASES IN ONE SPECIAL!! Because we don’t just need to consider Dhurke’s trial, I think it’s only appropriate that we take into account both Apollo and Phoenix’s side of the civil case. They are both WAA Lawyers, after all.

On Apollo’s side, he is defending Datz Are'bal, an escaped prisoner/wanted revolutionary criminal in his own country hiding away in an abandoned building and making homemade lizard skewers for food- but Datz did apparently enter Japanifornia legally via legitimate means.

Apollo: What are the charges this time? Datz: Unauthorized entry, or something like that. They think I'm an illegal alien! And I can't prove otherwise ‘cause I lost my passport! Trucy: Is there any way they'd let you go? Datz: Not without my passport… If only I had it! Dhurke, AJ! You gotta find my passport! Apollo: …All right, we'll find it. (One more thing to add to our to-do list. Now, where might Datz's passport be?)

So he presumably has some sort of funds to pay Apollo for his legal services, at least a little bit. 

And with him being Dhurke’s best friend and knowing that he also struggled financially to make end’s meet as a defense attorney at first - I would like to think that’ll incentivise him to support Apollo financially if he can?

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

Meanwhile on Phoenix’s side, while Phoenix uses the word ‘hire’ when talking about working for Atishon. Phoenix was once again coerced via kidnapping into the position of attorney. 

And THIS time, there is no Assassin with a Code of Honor who might consider paying Phoenix a fair rate. Both Atishon and his ‘benefactor’ are sleazeballs who would not pay Phoenix a dime if they can get away with it. Plus, with this being a civil case, there might actually be a Contingency Basis going on when Phoenix basically quit and then they lose.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.001

And finally, the grand event of this case - the Trial of Dhurke! 

So… Can a summoned undead spirit pay for an attorney? I suppose it’s probably easier in Khura'in than in other places. And it’ll mostly work the same as if the client died before the case finished, right? It’ll be considered a debt to be carried by their next of kin. Who in this case will be Nahyuta… but also maybe Apollo? Still, considering all of Dhurke’s living family ranges between ‘wealthy and well-respected’ and ‘Literal Royalty’ - I’m going to assume they’d be more than happy then to pay their Weird Brother for his help. 

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.75

Turnabout Time Traveler

And here we are! The last case, and a relatively straightforward one at that - at least compared to the last one lol!

Ellen herself does not have many funds as a housemaid, it seems - but since she literally just married one of the richest inventors in the world, I assume her husband is gonna cover the legal fees. The WAA Legal Team and Also Edgeworth and Ema also got an invite to the Wedding but I assume this is not instead of actual payment?

That is, of course, unless it’s technically Larry who hired Phoenix actually.

Then he’s never getting the goddam money he deserves for his labor.

Probability of Getting Paid: 0.7

Average Probability Score for All Cases (not counting the Zak Bonus Round): 0.51721875

So what have we learned today? I think that while the WAA’s reputation for basically giving away legal services for free is not entirely unearned, it is perhaps somewhat exaggerated. While there’s certainly a lot of Shennanigans and their rates are probably not high (especially not for people they know), they still get paid for a decent amount of high-profile cases. I mean, this Getting Paid Probability Score is over the 50% mark at least....

And… the odd thing is that the First Turnabout really is the only time the subject of the lawyer getting paid is really brought up directly. I get that it might, y’know, ruin the Drama if we acknowledge that our Brave Heroes are getting paid to save people from being convicted of a crime they didn’t commit - or on the other hand of the equation, that they should get paid cause They Need Money to Live. But still…

Is the fact that the only time payment is brought up directly is when Larry isn’t paying Phoenix a bad sign for the general financial situation of our Anime Lawyers? Or is it actually a good sign? Like, that they only mention Larry not paying implying that every time it is not mentioned that means the client did pay them?

[vergilscatgirl]

── .✦  A Gentle Shred of Humanity ♡

𖥻 Pairings ; Vergil/Fem Reader, Vergil/You.

𖥻 Content Warnings ; Explicit sexual content (18+), reader is fem-bodied (though no gendered pronouns are used), porn written with plot, fingering, penetration, creampie, praise, situationship to lovers, partially vocal Vergil, slight obsession if you squint.

𖥻 A/N ; I’m not sure why I wrote this. I had this idea since I began writing “Humanity Isn’t Easy” (A fic I’ve been working on for about a week now), Vergil may be OOC, but I’ll let you all be the judge of that. I haven’t written smut in the longest time, but feedback is greatly appreciated. A big thank you to @dantescatboy and @fragmented-stars for beta reading this for me and providing feedback. ♡

Vergil struggled to navigate humanity and the intricacies it held within. Whether it be socially, romantically, or platonically, little did it matter; for he still found difficulty in truly comprehending its meaning.

Meeting you brought a whole new perspective. It has been weeks since he returned to mankind — despite the icy demeanor he upheld to, you begun to pierce through the defenses he built; albeit, minimal chips at the exterior, it was progress. What you two shared wasn’t a romance, but it wasn’t platonic either. Gentle touches interlaced with dulcet conversations, exchanged fleeting glances at one another during work.

He was uncertain about the emotions he was experiencing towards you, it seemed like a far away concept, baring no sense of familiarity. It was obvious a connection of some form was developing between the two of you, but comprehension failed him. It took time to even acknowledge the probability that he had the capacity to have feelings for someone, especially someone who was human. For most of his life, Vergil denied his own humanity, yet in the time he sought it out, he hesitated when addressing it head on.

Later that evening, when you approached his room, to him it came as a surprise. He hadn’t foreseen your visit to his door at such a late hour in the night. Granting you a silent nod of acknowledgment, the door opened further, welcoming your entry.

And that’s what led to this.

You lay, nestled in his embrace, amongst the dark of the room that encircles you both, with the moonlight above casting the floorboards and walls with a luminescent blue. His grasp on you was gentle, holding onto you as if he never wanted to relinquish you — while he couldn’t explain why. 

“What are we?” You would ask, out of the blue. “We act like lovers, but are we really even that?”

“I have no answer to that,” was his terse response. The uncertainty gnawed at him — beyond his exterior, he was keenly aware you two had a connection of some form, though the prospect of it developing into something more was a thought he dared not address. “Are you wanting a relationship with me?” He found himself inquiring aloud, seeking clarity to calm his ever growing musings.

“That’d be nice, yeah.” 

The silence that lingered between you two felt interminable; as if a century had gone by. He found himself without words, adrift in indecision. For a man who thrived on seeking, knowing, understanding the truth of what he sought after, grappling at the concept of romance in its entirety proved to be an arduous challenge.

“Is there anything in particular you had in mind?” Idle hands remain on your body, cherishing your warmth against his own.

Your face would flush in response to the unexpected  question. “Not..exactly, no.” Your hands explore the texture of his chest, soft traces along the skin.

“I am unable to understand what is included within a relationship — beyond the usual, we already do what contributes to a connection, aside from sex, if that is what you’re implying that you want from me.”

Your face would heat up even more, if that was even possible, face pressing firm into his chest. This was definitely not the implication you intended, however if that were to be the outcome, you wouldn’t deny him.

“If that is what you wanted of me, I’m sure I could provide it for you.” With a gentle glance towards your crimsoned face, hidden within the confines of his body, he almost found a smile gracing his lips, which manifested into a mere tilt at the corner of his mouth. 

“I mean.. I.. don’t really.. well..” You mumble incoherencies, unable to find your wording, arousal clear in your tone, an ache igniting within you; mutters turn into mere, hushed noises. 

“Only if you wanted to, that is. I’m not fully informed on the subject, though that may change.” His voice looms above, hand raising to caress your hair in placid strokes in an attempt to calm your growing nerves.

“I mean..I wouldn’t mind.. if.. we..” You truly were at a loss for words, taken aback by the forwardness of his statements.

It was as if time had come to a standstill; his movements are precise—premeditated, every maneuver found purpose. His grip on you remains as delicate as before as your body lays beneath him, a near yelp escapes your lips. His gaze locks onto you, unwavering as his hands leisurely explore along your body, as if noting every unique detail he could find. 

“I will ask this once, and I want you to be entirely honest with me,” his voice resonates from above, “are you wanting this with me?” 

If you weren’t aroused before, you certainly were now, the pruriency aflame within you formerly boils to a further degree, pooling between your thighs — you stare at him, the moonlight casting a glow on his features. Frigid, azure eyes reflect sincerity, seldom seen beyond his typical austerity, lips compressed into a firm line, awaiting your answer.

“Yes,” your hands raise from your sides, serene in your movements, cupping his face. Butterflies flutter within your entire being, his arms enveloping your body with such admiration, as if you were the most beautiful creation humanity had to offer him. 

Calculated motions, timing stilled in hushed breaths in the fever of the moment — grasps at your shirt, peeling it away from your body with intent. Desperate, tremendously so, though his composure never falters, he endures the ache, testing his displicine; to him, this moment was not about intercourse, it wasn’t an act upon lust, nor passion — a chance to produce a connection anew, restoring the jagged bond between you two, to piece together the sporadic fragments of his humanity. He can feel it in the way you caress his body, lips parting to disperse near discernible whimpers. You were his fortitude, his longing, his humanity. He yearned to discover that exhilaration which intoxicated him so sweetly, something he pursued for so long, now right within his grasp.

Sultry breath fans along your collarbone, leading to your neck. Coarse hands ensnare your frame, treading circles into your skin, seeking out more, sparing no time to ease your shorts down your thighs. Your body radiates heat, sweat glistening along your skin, all you desire is him in the moment, your mind running vacant. “Your body is of God's most divine creations.” His tone rings true, fingers pursuing elsewhere, curling around the waistband of your underwear, to guide it down, slick coating its fabrics. “You poor soul,” he murmurs into the alluring warmth of your skin, inhaling the essence of your scent.

Fingers taunt your skin, earning a gasp from your lips, a singular finger slipping into your silky and soaked heat, your pussy clenches around his digit, enticing him in further. “How I adore hearing you,” he adds another, your hips bucking up to meet his penetrating motions, gliding out, only to plunge right back in. Your breath was caught in your throat, moan after moan rolls off your tongue, the sounds you make urges him further. His thumb strokes your clit, in careful, precise circles. You can sense your climax approaching, deep within your abdomen, a coil burning alight, your cunt gripping his fingers so firm.

 “Vergil, oh god, Vergil,” you weep to him in utter desperation, hand reaching to his hair, tangling your fingers within his unkempt silver strands, slick with sweat. The needs within you boil over, noises falling upon his ears like a graceful song, cunt smearing his hand with your juices, coating the sheets below, and it’s sloppy; and you’re so close, each gasp that leaves your lips, glossy with spit, chest heaving—

His actions halt, fingers slipping out of your pussy, a trail of slick following. A pitiful whine slips from your throat. “Why did you-”

“Quiet,” was the only response he would grant you, his tone carrying the weight of an unspoken command. Rising to his knees before you, his belt unfastening in a brisk manner, his hardened cock finally being freed from the refinements of his pants. Your eyes broaden at the sheer size of it, worrisome that you may be unable to fit it. As if reading your expression, he supplies with, “and you can take it, my love. I am positive you can.”

With his body pressing against yours, you surrender to his touch, fingers finding place in his sweat-coated hair much like before. His own find home on your hips, gentle and light, kneading into the skin.

“You are my everything,” he leaves no time for your response, cock easing into your sopping cunt, ceasing only to watch as your eyes cycle upwards, a soft cry breaking through the air. A kiss brushes your temple, followed by the weight of his own as he respites there. “I have you, my love.” He pulls himself from your heat, only to push himself back in, relishing in the way you clamp around his cock. He stifles a groan, the now harsh thrust of his hips melting away your composure, his right hand leaving its place to begin circular strokes at your clit. The coil burns anew, if your whimpers are any give away to the pleasure capitulating you. You’re so full, and the immense pleasure stirs within your entire body. You can tell by the way his thrusts grow sloppy that he’s close himself. “Vergil, please, I.. I’m so-”

Your words matter not, for his labyrinth of thoughts entraps him, “my everything, my light,” his praises ring in your ears, bringing you closer to your climax, “my own gentle shred of humanity, for you have made me feel alive again.”

You seize, body trembling as your climax washes over you, a loud moan igniting the air, your fingers digging into his hair, whimpering out babbling incoherencies. He continues on, guiding you through your high, before succumbing to his own, a final sharp thrust of his hips as he fills you, his cum flooding within you, a moan finally escaping him. He stays there, noting the heavy rise and fall of your breathing, your body against his. He presses a gentle peck to your forehead, brushing your hair from your eyes. “I love you.”

And you were his; his ever present humanity, a guidance to his troubles, his light in the dark, something to cling to in his journey through life, to never relinquish, to never let go of.

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 07

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings:

Words: 3639

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie

Previous:

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

The man's hands felt warm on your body, hugging you close to his chest. You could hear his heart in your ear, but your soft whimpers and sobs were louder.

The first to get to you was Hobi, who immediately went to your curled-up form. His arms were quick to also wrap around you, your back now warm and protected.

„Yah, what happened, Jungkook-ah?!” His voice had a pissed-off undertone to it. You were doing quite well the whole day, as far as he heard, and the photos Jimin sent to the group chat also looked happy and sweet, your small smiles warm and genuine.

When the youngest didn't reply immediately and you went to turn to the older, your hands reached for his neck. Right away, Hobi paid attention only to you, his warm palms picking you up and holding you to his chest. He didn't have time to say anything before the others came around.

„Kitty, baby, what happened?” Quickly asking you, Yoongi took one look into your worried and teary eyes and recognised the look all too well. Whatever went down at the mall when they first met you has happened again.

He wasn't a pro at comforting; he definitely wasn't that. But since he already had a bit more experience with settling an omega, which was really only you and his family neighbour, he didn't take much time to step in and help.

When he was younger, the family he lived with at the time used to have a neighbouring family pack that had an omega boy. He was only about a year or so younger than Yoongi, and so when the alpha presented at his 15th birthday, the second gender of his neighbour was soon revealed too.

A lot suddenly made more sense—the sudden states of anxiety, random panic attacks, or stressing for no good reason. He wasn't necessarily too friendly with that boy; Yeong-Su was always just a bit too shy for that. Even when the two family packs met up, they hardly talked—until one evening, during the New Year's celebrations, the omega had one of his first drops.

Such things are sadly just too common; simple things can bring them, and for the person who experiences them, they are more than terrifying. Often times, they can end up terribly.

Yoongi was the first one to notice the weird smell Yeong-Su suddenly carried. So when he got the opportunity, he led the omega away, asking him what was going on. The younger boy only burst out into tears, not being able to speak for a few long minutes.

The alpha was reminded of that smell when he was on his way to the liquor store with Jimin at the game shop, only to be abandoned after a few minutes. He wasn't too interested in new games like his younger packmates were, and so he decided to refill his own personal mini fridge.

He was very glad now that he was in the mood to drink back then; it brought him down to the bottom floor of the mall, where he smelled that scent once again, quickly realising what was going on.

Now he knew it was the same aroma once again, and there wasn't much he could do about it. There weren't many ways to settle upset omegas; it was just troublesome sometimes. Often, it was easy to cause bigger damage instead.

Coddling you, Hobi started to softly shush you in your ear, his voice once again gentle and light. Your face was buried in his scent gland, right at the junction between his neck and collarbone. His soft skin felt nice and cool against your warmed-up, tear-stained cheeks.

Letting him help you wrap your legs around his waist, he was quick to hold you securely against his chest, not wanting to even think of the chance of you falling. Yoongi sighed at how you looked, and he lightly patted your head.

„It's alright, my kitty. Just breathe for now. We will get through everything together from now on, yeah? Alpha got you, sweet baby.” His eyes were soft, warm, and calm. Even if he seemed quite alright on the outside, he could feel his heart beating quicker than usual.

Lightly nudging Hoseok towards the seats, the other man looked at him with a bewildered expression.

„Just sit with her for now. There is no use in standing around like this; it won't help. Just go get the food.” Looking at the others by the end of his sentence, he realised that, with how worried they seemed, they weren't about to move much further from you.

Forming a human wall around you unconsciously, the alphas stood tall and protective around the booth. It might even look a little silly to an unknown eye, but if you dare to walk a little closer and the heavy omega scent hits you, you will quickly understand.

Namjoon stood completely opposite you and Hobi, his back turned to you as he watched over every single person in the food court. His eyes were sharp and quick to notice any sudden movements. So when a different alpha went to pass by through the booth corridor they were in, he didn't take any time to get into action.

He knew deep inside that the random stranger didn't really mean any threat, but with how his hair fell unnaturally deep into his eyes, oily and unkept, he felt the sudden urge to protect his pack. It seemed a lot stronger than any of his naturally calm auras, so he didn't hesitate.

Taking a few quick-paced strides towards the shorter alpha, he stood in the man's way.

„Back off, man.” The guy almost bumped into the pack alpha, his eyes widening slightly. Looking up from the phone screen he seemed to be on beforehand, his brows furrowed a little. Measuring the other alpha up, the stranger went to push around his shoulder and continue on his way, but Namjoon was having none of that.

It was his pack's omegas that wasn't feeling well. Whoever this guy was, he just didn't seem to get the message.

Stepping to the side, he stood in his way, standing tall and protective. He didn't want this alpha to see you in your vulnerable state. That just wasn't something he would allow.

If you had a drop, then it was something very vulnerable for you to have happen. After you come back from your sudden mindset, it will feel too uncomfortable for you to know that someone you didn't know enough about might have gotten their scent on you slightly. That could have you dropping on them once more. definitely not what they wanted to go down.

The strange man sucked in a breath, about to start an argument. He really didn't have time for this, and it was stupid. But just then he caught the lightest whiff of the scent surrounding the table.

Quick to understand, his eyes grew a little wide. Mumbling a light curse word, he looked back at Namjoon.

„Yea, just... go the other way.” He didn't ask in a polite way; there was no reason for him to do so. He wasn't requesting; he was commanding. Nodding slightly, the other alpha pushed through the plastic chairs and went on with his day with no further issues.

Namjoon didn't move until he got the stranger out of his sight. When that happened, he didn't take long to rush back to his pack, quick to attend to any of your needs.

You were held close to Hoseok's chest, your face angled away from them. The man was mumbling small shushes in your ear, rubbing your back, and combing his fingers through your hair occasionally. He took the seat furthest from the opening, naturally taking you the furthest from any possible danger.

Yoongi stood close by, rubbing at your face and cheeks with his hands, the wrists cleverly held close to your nose. 'He is trying to calm you down with his scent gland', Namjoon realised, moving closer to you.

His big palm took up almost the whole back of your head, cupping it gently in a soft embrace. His body stood tall to cover you fully from any bystanders.

„Pup, it's alright. Don't cry, you poor thing; you are making Alphas all sad, see? What happened, sweetheart? What did Koo do? I'll beat him up for you, little pup. What do you say?”

The threat at the end of the sentence was mostly meant to be lighthearted, unless Jungkook, of course, messed up purposefully. If that was what happened, the pack alpha wouldn't hesitate to reconsider. He was sure his youngest packmate wouldn't do such a thing, though.

You didn't really answer; only a soft whimper left your throat, and Hoseok brought your face back closer to his neck. Running a hand through his hair, Yoongi crouched down next to you, well, as much as the space allowed. There wasn't a lot after all.

His palm rested on your hip, lightly patting it from time to time. „Hm? What is it, sweet kitty?” His voice was unbelievably soft and comforting, and your body went unconsciously lax at the sound of all the alphas coddling you.

Softly chuckling at the change in your earlier tensed-up muscles, a gentle, gummy smile appeared. Untucking your face from Hobi's neck, you looked down at the alpha, who was only a few tens of centimetres shorter than you now.

Meeting his eyes, he watched you with patience and care. Wiping at your teary eyes, your fist was left wet. Before you had time to rub your face again, your hand was quickly pulled away from it.

Your fingers intertwined, and your small palm immediately felt a lot warmer. With the smallest gasp, you looked up at Namjoon, his dimples showing fully. „It's really not good for you, small pup. Don't do that.”

Feeling shy, you went to cover back into Hoseok's inviting neck, but as you were about to fully rest against the crook, you were once again interrupted.

„..No, no, no, baby, kitty, look at me now. Hm.. aren't you just the cutest little thing? Look at you..” Mumbling, the alpha wrapped his warm palms around your cheeks, wiping off the tears that must have stopped only a few seconds ago with his thumbs.

He smiled at you, and your eyes stayed glued to his smile. Your grip loosened on Hobi's jacket, but he still made sure to hold you close. Reassuring you about their presence is a very important thing to do in such situations.

„Aigoo.. Yoongi has a nice smile, doesn't he? Here, go cuddle with Hyung for a second, my cub.” Passing you to his elder, Hoseok went to help the others that had disappeared earlier to bring the earlier discussed food.

Taking a seat back on the couch, the two alphas gave you their full attention. Placing you on his lap sideways, one arm around your soft waist, the other holding your head close to his collarbone, facing his neck.

Namjoon pulled your legs over his lap, letting your feet covered in the snow boots dangle off the side of his masculine thighs. Patting your calfs over the fabric of your pants, the alpha watched over you, only occasionally glancing away when he smelled someone passing by.

Taehyung hurriedly packed a plastic tray held by him, filled to the brim with different foods. Behind him briskly walked Jimin, his strides longer than they usually were. He held four big refillable cups in his hands, propping them up against his chest so they wouldn't fall.

Placing the tray in front of you and the two other men, Tae took a seat next to Yoongi. Quickly sliding to the right of Namjoon, Jimin followed soon.

„Here, babycheeks, I got you the orange chicken you wanted to try out, yeah? Don't be sad anymore, small baby; here, let me blow on it for you. It will cool down soon, hm?” Pulling the plastic recyclable plate from the tray, the alpha took a spoonful of the orange-coloured sause, a small piece of meat, and a bit of rice before he took it close to his lips, blowing on it softly.

Next to the pack alpha, Jimin started unpacking all four straws, putting on the lid covers, and pushing them in. Taking one, he put it right before you. „Drink up, princess; it's a green tea milkshake; it should be very tasty. The nice lady at the checkout recommended it.”

With one hand holding onto Yoongi's wrist, your other hand is outstretched towards the tall plastic cup with the panda logo. Taking the straw between your lips, you took the smallest possible sip, not feeling too hungry at the moment.

It tasted well—sweet but nice. The alphas all waited with bated breath, watching your reaction closely. When you pulled away from the drink immediately, they took it as a bad sign.

Quickly taking the cup from you, the pack alpha was quick to taste the drink himself, checking if anything was wrong with it. It didn't taste too off, so his worries about the milk being expired or something similar were quickly washed away.

„What lady? I'll go have a word with her.” Yoongi muttered under his breath, looking towards the Panda Express restaurant, his eyes sharp. You obviously didn't like it; was she dense? What's wrong with her tastebuds?

„..N-No Yoongi.. it's nice I-.. I just don't have much of an appetite right now.” You mumbled almost inaudibly. At the sound of your sweet voice, all the men were immediately looking at you, leaning in to hear your voice better. They didn't want to make you repeat yourself.

Sighing out once again, the alpha just leaned back into his seat, rubbing at the side of your waist in small circles.

„Just a little kitty. Eat at least a little for now, okay? We are proud of you for telling us, baby.” He voiced his thoughts, rubbing his chin over the top of your head gently. While you needed a lot of soothing at the moment, the agitated alpha in him also had to calm down.

Taking the now-cooled-down bite from Taehyung, you tasted the meal you never tried. It was really good—a little sweet and savoury but also a bit tingly. It was a nice mixture that you enjoyed a lot, quickly going back to take a second bite.

„Careful pup, it's still hot.” They knew more than well that the meal wasn't what was best for you, but they came to the conclusion that a little wouldn't cause a big issue. They hoped that if they just ordered a lot of different types of foods, they would eventually lean in and eat at least half of one meal.

Running his long fingers over your scalp, you could hear the soft jiggling of Yoongis bracelets in your ears. You liked the sound, so after a small second of blowing on another spoonful for you, you were quick to chew once more.

By the time you were going for another bite, Jungkook, Jin, and Hoseok were taking their seats. Worriedly watching over you, Taehyung let the youngest switch seats so he was closer to you. He realised that he felt the need to keep you close for now.

Jin talked to the youngest about what happened while they were waiting at the ramen noodles place, only getting to talking about how you just couldn't deal well with talking about your pack.

Deciding not to bring up the theme for now, Jungkook just wanted to make sure no big damage was done. With the whole pack around at the moment, he knew there wouldn't be that big of a problem for you to settle and calm back down into the happy little omega you truly were.

He didn't want to think about what would happen when only a few of them were around or when none of them were at all. It sent a strong pang of worry straight through his heart, and he promised himself that if that time came, he would do his best to help in any way.

Placing the high bowls of soup on the table, it was soon filled up with different kinds of side dishes. Different types of rice in small bowls, drinks, and coffee littered the small space.

Cupping your face, Kook's warm palms rubbed at your still reddened and plump cheeks. Closing his eyes for a second, the pack's youngest felt relief. You seemed to be a lot better than when Jin pulled him almost by his ear towards the food court lines.

„Are you okay, angel? I was so worried, baby. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do anything wrong, baby. Will you please forgive Alpha?" Looking deep into your eyes, he maintained eye contact, proving the genuineness he brought to his words.

Nodding gently, your lips shook only for a little bit before you were scented once again. This time it was Jungkook doing so, with the banana-like scent covering the top of your head.

Not much else happened during the ongoing meal, apart from the whole pack dotting on you. Warm palms went over your cheeks almost constantly, and Namjoon allowed you to rest over him the whole time you were sitting by the table. Yoongi didn't let go of you either; instead, he chose to keep you in his lap. He didn't eat too much, but when you went to bring the mouthful to his lips, he hesitated only for a small second.

After you really felt like you couldn't stomach any more food, you just placed the spoon on the side of the plate, leaving it there. Curling up into the alpha's chest, you breathed in the lavender scent, calming you even further.

With their calming scents wafting all around you, you closed your eyes once again. Soft head pats pulled you further into dreamland, and so with Yoongi's gentle words whispered in your ear, you nodded off.

„I'm here, kitty; rest for now. We will talk when you aren't so tired, my baby. Just sleep now; Alpha's got you. We will protect you.”

❄️

You woke up to the light swaying of being carried, your body propped up against the alpha's chest. Your eyes were opened only the tiniest bit, but you recognised the rest of the pack as they walked back downstairs the same way you came before noon. Walking down the steps carefully, your grip was strong.

Yoongi noticed you waking up with how you shifted just the smallest bit in his arms, your scent changing from a calm but vulnerable one to a stronger one.

„Kitty, can you tell us your address? We will take you home now, pretty kitty.” mumbling out the address of your apartment complex, you were just too sleepy to really realise what was going on.

Drifting off soon again, you only woke up when you felt the car come to a stop. Blinking your eyes open, you felt your seatbelt go undone before Jin was helping you out of the car, lifting you from the tall step to the pavement.

He could vividly imagine you falling down clumsily with how tired you still seemed, not noticing the tall step before you. Taking a hold of your hands, he bent before you, his warm eyes meeting your gaze.

„Sweetheart, where are your keys? We will go to your apartment with you.” His voice was kept in a gentle and calm tone, not wanting to startle you. He felt a little off, though. This was not the nicest part of the city.

It wasn't the worst by any means, but when he saw a bunch of people on the sidewalks, he felt a bit conscious about being in such a vulnerable space.

Pulling your key bundle from your jacket pocket, you handed them off to his opened palm. Thanking you, I led you towards your apartment doors. With Namjoon walking first and Yoongi and Jimin just at his tail.

They didn't really truly approve of this place; it had a wrong style to it, with some of the railing rotting and peeling off with how long it must have been here.

Stepping up to your apartment doors, there was a small, simple beige door mat before them. After unlocking your doors, the pack alpha pushed the doors open. You were sleeping once again, too exhausted from the day in Jin's arms.

Walking in, the pack dispersed through your space. Noting how small everything was, they grew more worried. With the oldest packmate sitting on your small couch and you resting against him, he watched over everything around him.

He wouldn't call this being lazy and unclean. No omegas were like that. He realised that very well, so it only pushed at the question at hand: what the fuck was your pack doing?

Leaving an omega unattended like this was terrible and just cruel. With only a few clothes in the closet, there weren't many blankets around either. They couldn't see a lot of pillows either; everything was kept to a minimum. You didn't even have a proper bed frame, for Christ's sake!

It was Taehyung who found the plastic box first. Tucked far from sight at the very bottom of your small wardrobe, it held a simple label written on a stick of paper tape.

Reading over it, he pulled it out urgently, opening it. There were all of your nesting materials, cleanly tucked in to take up as little space as possible. The thing that worried him was how dusty the lid was.

„Awhh, babycheeks. What have you done to yourself?” The alpha couldn't hold back the gentle whisper, mumbling to himself.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Next:

[starseungs]

take a shot. ksm. (teaser)

kim seungmin x fem!reader — it really shouldn't take a genius to figure out that you and your co-star didn't get along. you knew kim seungmin. you knew how life functioned despite the cameras. and you knew that it was harder to keep a good shot hidden than it was to delete a bad one.

genre/s — drama, angst, fluff, a sprinkle of comedy, actors au, rivals to lovers • teaser: 1.2k words (actual fic: around 10k or more)

warning/s — profanity, main characters aren't on the best terms, implied death taken lightly, more warnings will be added on actual release if necessary.

note — enjoy the product of me and @starlostseungmin's active imagination over chanel seungmin.... how does one look THAT good? 😖💘 : the full fic is out !!

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

“I’m sorry, what?”

The car remained silent despite your words of confusion. You felt as though your world had come to an extreme halt, giving you a whiplash as the buzz of the road outside continued to pierce through your ears. There was nothing else to keep your mind away from the absolute bomb of news that was just given to you; your manager had turned it down before uttering the horrid sentence that brought your untimely demise.

The car may have kept on with its task of moving forward—but you were stuck frozen in place.

“You’re joking.”

Your world fell on seemingly deaf ears. The man up front, steering the wheel, rendered himself mute to your growing distress, finding the busy traffic of city life interesting enough to keep his eyes glued. But the urban chaos didn’t distract you one bit from brewing a storm of gunpowder inside your throat.

And just like that, a ghost of a click was heard.

“No—please tell me you’re joking,” you voiced out, tone betraying your attempts at keeping things respectful. It soon came to your attention that the effort was of no use, as your manager still chose to keep his peace. “Changbin!”

The car swiveled a bit off-lane for a second before returning to its correct course. Normally, such an abrupt action by a vehicle would concern you, as you would argue that you were still much too young to suffer at the hands of a road accident, but no such thoughts even made their way into your brain. Just like how time had stopped for you, there was no time for debating over survival either. One life or death situation was already enough for you.

You wanted answers, and you were going to get them.

Changbin exhaled audibly from the scare he just put both of you through. His hands shook with a slight tremor, and that was all it took for him to decide that pulling over to the nearest parking area was for the best.

“Don’t yell in the car like that!” You scoffed at his scolding, finding the whole situation ironic.

“Oh, so you can do it all the time, but I can’t?” You shot back. Changbin sighed tiredly, finally registering the extent of your agitation. "Plus, I have a perfectly good reason why I’m yelling!”

“Listen, Y/N, it’s really not that bad—”

“Yes, it is that bad!” The words spill out of your mouth in utter disbelief at his attempts at assurance. “I’m working with Kim Seungmin, of all people!”

“And that’s why it’d be fine!” Changbin argued, running a hand through his already tousled hair. You blinked at his reply, baffled by the sheer implication.

“—How?”

Changbin clicked his tongue at the question, finding it hard to digest just why you were so against working with the mentioned actor. With the mere sound of that actor’s name spat out of your mouth, one would think that he had somehow managed to offend your entire bloodline. But that kind of bitterness could only be achieved through a sour history, so you really couldn’t empathize with your manager’s mindset either.

Even you knew that this movie would be enormously successful from the director alone. Director Han Jisung’s influence and presence in the industry were not a laughing matter—in fact, you should already be trembling in anxiety just knowing that you snagged probably the biggest role you’d ever get in your whole career. He was only around the same age as you, but the winding list of his achievements was already one for the records. And yet, here you were rethinking your contract with him even before the project started.

Just because of who you were going to be acting alongside with.

“Seungmin is a nice person,” Changbin explained gently, like he was coaxing a child, intentionally ignoring the way your face scrunched up at what he said. “I did my research, ok? Everyone only has high praises for him, both on and off set. Isn’t that enough to be trusted?”

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from digging a deeper hole to lie in. The answer was no—it wasn’t enough to be trusted. Now, at this point, someone would’ve had half the mind to ask why you were so sure about your vendetta against the man. If a person was so well loved in a world where cameras were pointed at them in every waking minute, then shouldn’t all the dirt be found by now, if there was any?

To that, your answer would be yet another no.

Because you knew Kim Seungmin. You knew how life functioned despite the cameras. And you knew that it was harder to keep a good shot hidden than it was to delete a bad one.

“Turn the car around.”

Changbin’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets at your demand. Surely, he had heard you now. You crossed your arms and leaned back to rest comfortably on the carseat, turning your head to face the window and glare at the world outside, continuing on with their lives like a well-followed routine.

“Y/N, this is a big opportunity—”

“I said, turn the car around. I’m not attending this cursed table reading,” you pinched the bridge of your nose to keep the incoming migraine at bay.

“You really think I’ll willingly step into a room with the devil’s incarnate? I’d rather get shot—”

“—sensing a great shot!”

Director Han Jisung nodded positively at your performance, satisfied with your initial portrayal of the female lead.

“If we keep going like this, then I’m expecting this project to be a big hit. The casting team really did their pay’s worth on this one,” the young director hummed. “Especially you, Actor Kim Seungmin. I don’t know how they managed to get through your company's walls, but I’m glad they did. You’re perfect for the role!”

You felt your eye twitch as the figure bearing the name appeared within your vision. His mouth curled up into an arrogant smirk, hastily covered up by a bashful smile. You cringed at his actions that only you seemed to see. Why was this prick acting all humble?

“Ah, I always wanted to act in one of your films, Director Han. This is more of an amazing opportunity for me than you, honestly.”

That smoothed honey voice wrapped itself around the room’s premise, charming everyone around like it was coming from an alluring siren. All except you.

Your mouth filled with a coating of spite as his next sentence echoed through your ears. His eyes locked you in as a target, a wordless challenge shooting straight at your own.

“Plus, seeing who my co-star is, I’m quite thrilled to see the end product,” Seungmin grinned with a manic glint.

Fuck. You should’ve turned that damned car around yourself.

mastertag 🔖— send in an ask if you want to be added ! 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix

[hollowed-theory-hall]

What are your thoughts on drarry?

spireasalix asked:

Hi! I just found your blog and find your theories really interesting. I don't know if anyone has asked you before, but what do you think of Draco Malfoy? Do you think he would have a chance with Harry? Could they fall in love or there is too much history between them? Let's make Harry/Draco canon! Hahahaha

Hi, thank you so much! 😊

Since it's a ship/character ask I want to preface that everyone can ship what they want and like whatever characters they want and this is my personal highly subjective opinion.

I'll start with my thoughts on Drarry, as I had an arc there, like, back when I just got into the fandom I really liked the concept of Drarry, so I read some Drarry and didn't like most of what I found back then. That dislike kinda colored Drarry and Draco's character as a whole for me, so it was kinda like: "I can see the appeal on paper, but I don't like it". More recently though I read a lot about canon Drarry from @iamnmbr3 and she honestly got me rethinking my opinion on Draco and Drarry.

As I stand on it now, I'm not invested in Drarry, but I see them occasionally on my dash and sometimes I like what I see. It's the: yeah, I can see it happen, but it's not a pairing I'm passionate about.

Now, to @spireasalix more specific questions.

Draco Malfoy is an interesting character in theory but I don't think it comes across in the books as much as it could. Like, in books 1-5, I find him an annoying spoilt little brat. It can be entertaining when he comes on the page, and I know he'd be whining and dramatic and make a scene. And it makes sense Draco is this way, he's an only child of very rich parents who love him, he looks up to his father like Lucius could do no wrong, but he is lonely and attention-seeking. This need for attention is interesting and is part of why he is so obsessed with Harry. It shows he wants approval and is actually quite insecure under all his pride and mean attitude. He was raised to be a blood-supremacist spoilt jerk, and he does a decent job at being a schoolyard bully without crossing any super major lines.

Younger Draco can be a fun character, he's a problem Harry feels comfortable with because he knows how to deal with him, unlike his other problems (of which he has a lot). I think part of why Harry focuses on Draco as much as he does is because Draco is a predictable problem, one Harry feels he has control over how he wants to deal with him. Which is comforting considering how little control he has over literally every other area of his life.

Then in books 6 and 7, that's when Draco starts actually having his character development, and there are interesting things there, or the potential for them. I love what he goes through, becoming a Death eater only to realize, that: no, he can't really do violence. The constant fear for himself and his family, the torture he most likely goes through, being a prisoner in his own home, like, there is so much potential good angst there but I don't feel like the books really take it as far as it can go.

I recently finished my reread of HBP, and Draco in it was having a crap time, truly. He partially brought it on himself, but he really was thrown into the deep end and he is flailing around to keep his head above water regretting ever asking to leave the kiddie pool (because make no mistake, he asked to be in the grown-ups' pool). And you see how he matures there, going from a spoilt brat to a terrified teen. In one summer he went from the top of his own little world to seeing how powerless he actually is. And, like, out of everyone, the person he apparently confides in is Moaning Myrtle, like, idk, I love that, I think this friendship should be mentioned more. Like, Draco is having a crisis over his family, his worldview, his own worth, being a Death Eater and what it means, and his confidant is the ghost of a muggleborn girl who Tom Riddle, his new master, killed. Like, there are some implications.

I find it fascinating Myrtle says this about Draco:

“No,” said Myrtle defiantly, her voice echoing loudly around the old tiled bathroom. “I mean he’s sensitive, people bully him too, and he feels lonely and hasn’t got anybody to talk to, and he’s not afraid to show his feelings and cry!”

(HBP, 462)

That combined with the fact that Draco doesn't ever really try to harm Harry too badly (@iamnmbr3 wrote many great posts about this). Like, at the beginning of HBP, he has Harry petrified and he just breaks his nose. And this is already after he becomes a Death Eater. He also helps Harry multiple times throughout Deathly Hollows, something that places him and his family at risk.

And, yes, he makes some attempts to kill Dumbledore that harm others (the cursed necklace that hurt Katie Bell and the poison Ron drank) but I think the methods he uses are telling. Draco attempts to kill Dumbledore with methods where he himself is far away from the action. You can say it's due to a Slytherin sense of self-preservation, and that's part of it, I'm sure, but I think the main part of it is that Draco is averse to violence. At the end when he was face to face with Dumbledore he couldn't bring himself to cast the curse. Dumbledore was disarmed and surrounded, there was nothing he could've (or would've) done to hurt Draco, but Draco still hesitated. He couldn't kill him even when his own life and his family's were on the line. Harry also talks about how much Draco is likely hurt from having to torture others on Voldemort's orders in Deathly Hollows, and I think Harry is spot on about it.

If we look at the bullying of younger Draco, he doesn't act out violently. He is the cruel words and insults type, and I remember being honestly surprised he physically hit Harry in HBP because it's not the sort of thing Draco does. So, while Draco as schoolyard bully is mean, he practically is never shown to be physically violent, at least not that I remember. He only starts being more of a physical threat in HBP, and in the cases of Ron and Katie, he does so from a distance in a way he isn't directly involved in the violence.

That being said, while what he goes through is interesting and has plenty of potential and I do like his character, I find him kinda annoying. Like, in my very subjective opinion, I find his whining in the early books incredibly annoying and I find him, even in the later books, kinda underwhelming. Like, I want more out of his character, idk. Like, really, all power to you for liking Draco, he just, unfortunately, doesn't make it into my top Harry Potter characters purely because of personal subjective bias.

Like, for all of Draco being a Slytherin from a long line of Slytherins, he doesn't showcase many Slytherin characteristics (yes, that's something I dislike about his character, go figure 🤷‍♀️). Like, Draco isn't cunning, like, at all. He's smart, I'm not saying he isn't, he gets good and even outstanding grades in various school subjects, and he fixes the vanishing cabinet he knows nothing about on his own. He is skilled and talented magically and he can figure out complex magic on his own, but when it comes to long-term planning or general cunning... yeah, I don't think that's part of Draco's arsenal.

He acts out on useful information on the first opportunity he has, with very little thought about timing or how to best use it and very little forethought in general. In 1st year he gets Harry and Co caught outside after curfew but doesn't think his plan through so he too, is caught out after curfew. And sure, he's 11, but 11-year-old Harry wouldn't have made that mistake, I think (neither would Ron or Hermione). In 3rd year, his plan against Buckbeak and Hagrid was laughable and only worked because Lucius could pull it off. I mean, Draco wasn't even doing a good job at faking an injury compared to Harry who could believably pretend to be the Bloody Baron to scare off Peeves at 11, not to mention lying reliably to McGonagall at 12. In GoF he makes these Potter stinks badges, which are magically impressive (considering they still work 3 years later) but are again, an example of Draco acting on something immediately because that's how he tends to operate. Like how he goes straight to Harry every time he finds something in the Daily Prophet to make fun of.

Even if we look at Draco's later plans, like in HBP, he was mostly trying to buy plans rather than think about how to solve his problem. Because Draco knows how to buy his way out of problems, not think his way out. And while all this does make for an interesting trait for him to have in his rule in the story and he has an invisible arc to break away from this thinking pattern and that does lead him to the vanishing cabinet eventually, it does make me like him less. I'm biased, I can't help it.

His ambition is another thing, I don't know if this is an unpopular opinion, but I don't think Draco is particularly ambitious. Like, he wants to make his parents (especially Lucius) proud, he wants people to like him, and he wants to be popular, sure, but he doesn't have any long-term plans or specific goals in mind. He grew up already having everything, so he doesn't really have any ambitions bigger than that. I'm not saying there needs to be, Harry isn't particularly ambitious either, it's just interesting to me that our poster Slytherin in Harry's year isn't that much of a Slytherin at all.

As I mentioned earlier, Draco also seems to be averse to violence and doesn't have as much of a ruthless streak as his house is usually associated with. Draco, at the end of the day, seems to me like a very sheltered kid who idolized war when he heard about it in stories up until he had to actually take part in it. He is one of the softer characters in the books actually, in my opinion.

While I think he definitely values the traits of house Slytherin as he grew up learning to appreciate them, he doesn't actually possess them, at least, not in abundance. Maybe this is an unpopular opinion, but honestly, I think Draco is more of a Gryffindor than a Slytherin considering he is brave (in the last book especially. I want to note he isn't the same brave as Harry. Draco fears a lot more than Harry does, but when push comes to shove, he keeps going despite his fear. He's more similar to Neville in that regard), bold, and definitely has his personal code of honor and chivalry he acts according to, but I digress.

My personal issue with Draco is the main issue I have with Drarry as a ship, because, like, I can't be actively invested in a ship when I find one of the characters annoying. I have a similar stance on Romione as I have on Drarry. I like Romione well enough, I enjoy the fanart of them I see, but I wouldn't actively search for fics of them. Neither would I write fics where they are the main pairing. In Romione's case, I love Ron but find Hermione kinda annoying, I don't hate her, I don't even dislike her, I actually like her, but she annoys me. Draco is the same way, I like him, but he just gets on my nerves sometimes.

To summarise, I see the appeal of Drarry, and I can see how it could work on paper. I don't think Harry and Draco ever truly hated each other in the books, so, yeah, I think they could get together. They could definitely forgive each other everything, hell, the books practically outright say they forgive each other everything in canon. I think you can build a very compelling love story for them, it's just not a story I'm invested in reading/writing mostly because Draco isn't a character that I'm overly invested in.

[coryothesub]

Sinful Desires

So I’ve been dabbling in some more kinky / taboo themes lately which prompted me to write this as a special treat no one asked for. Basically I have no excuse for this and sorry if I got any tbosas lore wrong because I haven't read the book

nsfw / mdni / sub!coryo / stepmom!reader / stepcest / breeding kink / mentions of underage sex work

You married Crassus Snow as soon as you turned eighteen. Looking back you could say that you were truly in love with the tall, handsome general. However for him you were just a warm body to sleep next to and tight pussy to drown his sorrow after the unfortunate passing of his beloved wife. His decision to remarry had definitely come too soon and you were definitely too young to even understand the implications.

After you received the news of your husband's tragic death, you decided to stay with the Snows, because you simply had nowhere else to go. Just like many others, your family had been torn apart by war and even the house you’d grown up in was now bombed to shreds. Your only options were to be poor or to be poor and homeless so you opted for the first one. 

You were always on good terms with Tigris. Daily struggle to sustain the family had brought you two pretty close especially because you both were forced to do the same unspeakable things just to maintain the food on the table and the roof above your heads.

First you categorically refused to bring her into that, but realizing it was getting harder and harder to make ends meet with your own endeavors and after thousands of silent and desperate “I’ll be fine, if you can do it then I can do it too” you finally gave in and introduced her to some men for whom your ripe age of twenty five was already too old to satisfy their needs.

You both didn't have much choice anyways since Grandma’am simply refused to move into a smaller apartment, let alone leave the Capitol. Apart from that and her other weird quirks she seemed to be a pretty nice lady. At least as far as you knew the right patriotic buttons to push in order to stay on her good side. 

Crassus’ son Coriolanus or Coryo, as Tigris used to call him, didn't seem to like you one bit. He considered you an intruder, an unfair replacement to his mother that did nothing but reminded him of his family's tragedy. 

Over the years Coryo seemed to have learned to tolerate you, mostly because he felt somewhat grateful for all your efforts, but still he remained cold and distant. You didn't particularly mind that, because you had no idea how to raise a young man. You felt pretty happy that he didn't ask you any awkward questions and managed to figure out everything himself. 

Sometimes during his teenage years you noticed Coryo secretly watching you while you were changing or getting ready for a bath. On some occasions he even touched himself while doing it trying to suppress his little moans by biting into his fist. You always knew he was there, but you never confronted him. You knew full well it would make your coexistence very awkward for both of you and frankly you found it pretty amusing.

After all, he was just a silly little boy for you until the time his nineteenth birthday came around. It started even earlier if you thought about it. After Coryo returned from his service in District 12 and got his hands on the Plinths' fortune he turned into a completely different man.

Coryo always had the taste for finer things in life and when he finally got the means to fund it, you only saw him wearing tailored dress suits and perfectly polished shoes. Even his whole posture had changed and when he passed you in the dining room followed by an intoxicating wave of expensive cologne, instead of the anxious malnourished boy you had known for most of your life you saw a fit and handsome young man that reminded you of your late husband so much.

Your run down penthouse was completely refurbished to suit your stepson’s taste and he showered all three of you with lavish presents, encouraging you to throw out your old things.

Finally he could have the life he had always envisioned. And every last memory of your humble existence after the war had to be exterminated and written off into oblivion.

Coryo had become confident, strong and ambitious. Some might say even ruthless. It was hard for Tigris to accept those changes and she grew more distant with her younger cousin. They barely spoke, she was mostly just looking at him with sadness and disappointment in her eyes.

Coryo didn't seem to care about that much. He didn't care about other people's feelings in general. But there was one interesting detail. The colder he became to others, the more delicate and gentle he was with you.

He always wanted to be in your vicinity, lighting your cigarette, opening the door for you or helping you to put on your coat. He always had to do a little something just to remind you he was there. He even pretended to care about your opinion, giving you the most dashing smile every time you seemed to agree with what he had actually already decided.

And the weirdest thing about that all was that he had started to refer to you as “mommy”. He had never called you that before and there was no particular reason for starting it now, especially because it seemed to make Tigris extremely uncomfortable.

And it sounded pretty eerie for your ears too, especially because Coryo always accompanied the word by giving you this one specific look that radiated childish naivety mixed with a hint of pure lust.

It always made your heart skip a beat, especially because in some weird twisted way you wanted it too. The sheer hunger in his icy blue eyes made your pussy tingle and after those interactions you always had to go to your room and touch yourself, your pleasure overshadowed by shame.

After all, you weren’t dead yet, you were just a woman in your early thirties and you hadn't been touched by a man since you had stopped selling your body. But for god's sake he was your stepson! You really needed to find some dick, before things spiraled out of control.

One day you returned to your room after running some errands and found a gift box on your bed. It was adorned with a crimson satin ribbon and a single white rose. You found an envelope laying next to it.

You opened it with trembling fingers, the strong rosy scent of Coryo's cologne filling the air. Inside the envelope there was a card with a few words in your stepson's neat handwriting.

From Coryo to Mommy with love…

You sighed and opened the box, finding a snow white, neatly folded piece of clothing inside. You couldn't really call it a nightgown, it was more like a negligee. You lifted the delicate item against the window, seeing the sunlight pass right through it. Of course it was nearly transparent apart from the exquisite hand made lace embroidery.

Coryo's taste was flawless as ever, you had to admit that, but this had to stop! You were gonna tell him tomorrow. But it wouldn't hurt anyone if you tried it on tonight, right? Just for one night, no one would find out, and you would demand him to return it tomorrow morning.

That night you put Coryo's present on and marveled at yourself in the mirror. It looked like a lacy cloud hugging your naked body so nicely the outline of your feminine curves visible through the sheer fabric. You turned around then moved your hips in a suggestive way flirting with your own reflection in the mirror. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt so desirable.

After pairing the negligee with a pair of white cotton panties, you went to bed. Just as you were drowsing off into your sleep, you heard the door creak before someone opened and closed it quietly. You rubbed your eyes and switched on the night lamp just to notice Coryo standing by your bed wearing nothing but his tight white undies and a loose fitting silk robe. His hair wasn't perfectly styled as usual, instead his blonde curls were falling freely around his face.

“Mommy?” He gazed upon you with the most innocent look in his baby blue eyes. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Coryo had never slept in your bed, even when he was a young boy often haunted by terrible nightmares, Tigris was always the one who comforted him and sang him to his sleep, you were just sitting on your bed listening quietly until you were sure the boy was alright.

You knew full well what his true intentions were. You had to act like an adult.

“I really don't think it's the best idea, Coriolanus,” you tried to sound strict and inexorable.

“Please, mommy! It's so cold and I can't sleep. I feel embarrassed to go to Tigris and ask her for a lullaby, not to mention we’re not on the best terms right now,” he was looking at you, his blue eyes wide and desperate.

“Please, please, just this one time!”

You sighed deeply and gave him a faint nod.

“Alright, just this time!”

To your surprise Coryo threw the robe off his shoulders and pulled down his underwear, revealing his long, handsome half hard cock, its tip looking so velvety and just as pink as his lovely lips.

You were so caught off guard that you didn't even manage to make any protests before he jumped into your bed and glued himself to your side, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Mommy…” he whispered against the sensitive skin of your neck, making you shiver. “I’ve been having the worst nightmares… About the war, about all the things we had to do to survive. I’ve tried everything to make them disappear, but they keep coming back…”

You knew this was your last chance to stop this, you had to push him away, order him to leave your room immediately and never come back, but instead sinful words of encouragement just spilled out of your mouth.

“It's alright, babyboy! Mommy's here and you're safe with me,” you hummed gently as your hand caressed his golden curls. 

God, this felt so wrong on so many levels especially feeling your stepson's now fully hard cock pressing against your thigh, waiting for what seemed to be inevitable at this point.

“Thank you, mommy, you’re always so good to me,” you heard Coryo say just before feeling his lips on your neck. He kept kissing your soft skin and teasing it with his tongue, you felt your pulse running wild and you knew he probably felt it too.

Coryo's hand, previously resting on your shoulder, was now traveling down, his fingers dove under the lacy fabric of your negligee and started drawing circles around your nipple making your breath speed up.

“Coryo what are you doing?” Your mind still felt as you had to resist the pleasant feeling although your body was enjoying it so much.

He looked at you ever so innocently.

“I read that fidgeting something with your fingers can be really calming,” he said, playing with your nipples and tweaking them gently. “I just wanted to test that theory, it seems like it truly works…”

You just sighed, feeling your whole body filling with the insuperable feeling of pure lust, your nipples were rock hard under Coryo's masterful fingers and you felt a treacherous wetness pooling up in your panties. You hated that your own body was betraying you like that under your stepson's salacious touch.

“Mommy, you have such beautiful breasts…”

You inhaled sharply as Coryo's lips wrapped around your nipple, starting to suck hungrily, while his hand traveled further downwards. It easily found its way between your thighs and dove under the waistband of your soaked panties.

“Oh,” he cooed, dipping his fingers in your wetness. “Mommy really needs her babyboy to help her out, huh?”

“Shut up, Coriolanus!”

You grabbed a fistful of Coryo's curls and pulled him away from titty to smash your lips together in a passionate kiss, he felt so needy and desperate as he was exploring your mouth panting softly as you felt his erect cock pressing to your thigh, leaving a trail of precum from its leaking tip.

“Oh fuck, Coryo,” you whispered his name against his lips feeling him pushing his long slender fingers inside you. Your wet cunt that swallowed them so easily. You were literally dripping around his digits as you felt the embarrassment slowly leaving your body and getting replaced by a feeling of raw insatiable desire.

“I'm here for your mommy,” Coryo whispered, his fingers deep inside your pussy, curling against your soft walls and teasing your sweet spot.

“I will help you fulfill all your needs. That's what family's for right?”

With one swift move you pulled down your panties and crawled on top of him pinning him to the bed and covering his mouth with your hand.

“Don't mention family, you filthy little boy!  If you want mommy to give you a treat, you need to stay quiet, is that clear?”

Coryo nodded and you took your hand away from his mouth, wrapping it around his throat instead. The young man gasped watching as your free hand steadied his rock hard cock at your entrance before you slowly sank down on him, your wet pussy taking his whole length with ease. A soft moan escaped your lips as he stretched out your tight cunt.

You kept your hand on his throat in a tight grip as you started to move at an easy pace, eliciting a series of moans from his lips. Coryo's pupils dilated as he saw your pussy sliding up and down his length making it glisten from your juices.

You tightened your grip around his throat as you sped up your movements enjoying his little gasps as he was fighting for air completely under your control. The sight before your eyes made you impossibly wet and lewd slapping sounds filled the room as you bounced up and down his shaft faster and faster with each movement.

Chasing your own pleasure you let go of Coryo's neck and threw your head back, letting the straps if your negligee slide down your shoulders revealing your lovely tits bouncing up and down as you kept riding your stepson's cock.

Coryo's eyes widened at the sight and he let out a deep groan as your tight walls clenched around his cock, his tip hitting against your sweet spot as you kept moving.

“Oh mommy, you’re making me feel so good,” Coryo spoke, breathing heavily as you were too busy chasing your release to make him keep up with his vow of silence.

“I want to cum inside you, to put a baby in your belly. To make you nice and round full of new life that would make our family complete and strengthen our ties forever.”

In your mind you realized how twisted these words were and that they could actually become true considering that you weren't on birth control since your sex work days but your brains were completely shut off by pleasure as you kept moving up and down Coryo's wonderful dick your manicured nails digging into his smooth pale chest.

Coryo's nostrils flared, watching your boobs bouncing up and down as he felt his climax approaching.

“I can't wait for those beautiful tits to be swollen and full of delicious milk oh oooooh…” he cut himself off, moaning loudly as thick ropes of cum filled your cunt spurting up against your velvety walls.

You rode him through his orgasm and your red nails dug deep into his skin leaving red scratches. After mere seconds you came hard all over his cock and squelching sounds filled the room as your juices were mixing together with his cum. You collapsed on top of your stepson, his cock still inside you and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.

“Just let me stay inside mommy's pussy a little longer,” he whispered. “Don't let the seed go to waste.”

“Fuck you, Coriolanus!” You hissed and bit into his neck using his distraction to wiggle out of his grip and crawl off of him making him whine at the loss of contact.

Coryo didn't put up a fight, he just watched you as you pulled the straps of your negligee back on your shoulders and then pulled you into his arms, wrapping himself around you.

You sighed and brushed a stray curl off his forehead looking into his big sleepy eyes. There was no way of denying the fact that you had just slept with your stepson, especially since you could still feel his heart beating softly against your skin and his cum dripping down your inner thighs.

It was so wrong. But still deep down in your heart in some sick and twisted way it felt so incredibly right.

[kimsmuse]

yandere hongjoong + baby trapping ♡ !!

i do not condone anything here, it’s all just fictional. do not consume if you don’t like yandere or dark themes.

fem!reader (no pronouns, just because there's mention of pregnancy) 1.2k words. warnings include manipulation, mentions/implications of sex and messing with birth control and condoms, and yandere behavior, and also kinda stockholm syndrome?

i have a planned part two, so let me know if anybody is interested <3

Your relationship with hongjoong is normal. Very normal, in fact. He has the kind of aura that would automatically appeal to everyone around you as your perfect partner. He had a caring nature and it wasn’t just limited to you, he brought out gifts and things your parents briefly mentioned that they liked for them and helped them out in tasks that even you being their kid, didn’t want to. And when it came to your friends, they were rightly impressed by him from the very first time that they met him over lunch and he insisted on paying the bill. But even without the economic front, all of them were secretly swooning over how when you said you didn’t like the food you ordered and rather liked his dish, he was immediate in swapping them even though it was evident that even he didn’t like it.

Your parents had already dreamt of him as the perfect son-in-law, the one that they would be bragging about to neighbours, relatives, you name it and they’d be bragging and your friends were already planning to invite him and you, ofcourse to this new italian place that opened for lunch..

So it comes as a shock to them when you let them know that your relationship has sunk to a saturation point, meaning it was just dying. it wasn’t even anybody's fault - not yours and neither hongjoong's but it felt like a pretty, beautiful flower wilting, slowly withering away. it was good while it lasted though.

your father's first comment was to ask, "does that mean i have to watch all my baseball matches alone from now?"

you knew what it meant though. have you two broken up? not yet, but you were going to talk to him today.

lately, all he replied to you was with “hmm's” and a nod or maybe if you were lucky enough, he would look your way. he said it was because he was stressed about his work, and that he really needed some time and space to focus for it, which you weren't quite against but the way things had steadily been the same for about more than 6 months, you felt like you had to be the bad person and pull the trigger.

“hongjoong,”

he sits down on the sofa and sighs, but responds to you, his voice tired.

“yes, baby? ” he asks.

you're in the kitchen, removing your apron and slowly making your way to the living room, you wonder what his reaction will be when you finally break the news to him. accepting? angry? upset?

“ hongjoong, we need to talk, ”

now, hongjoong wasn’t born yesterday, he knows what that stands for wnd he's been aware of the crumbling of the relationship as well but when push comes to shove…

he decides that he'll let you speak, he'll let you pour out whatever you feel like saying, what are the problems you think are bothering your relationship.

“I get it, baby,” he emphasises on the nickname sourly, “do it.”

he looks nonchalant about the whole situation while you just want out now, you didn’t like where this whole thing seemed to be heading now, his eyes were getting almost angry, something you’ve seen him do with others, but you? you’d never have imagined him looking your way like that.

there’s something scary about it, “oh, joong, i don’t want to break it off, i’m just wondering if we can work on it, give it a better chance.”

relief fills you when you see that his expressions have softened. “i’m sorry, i thought you wanted to leave, shit. sorry, i can’t believe i would…”

hongjoong had messed up, big time. it wasn’t excusable this time, he felt guilty that he was angry at you when you didn’t even want to leave him. you’d never want to leave him, right?

hongjoong waits, with bated breath. he's been waiting for about, 3 weeks, yes, as the calendar tells him. and it finally begins, the wave of nausea starts hitting you and its not his alarm that wakes him up but the sound of you retching out your guts. he doesn’t mind it, not right now, when it was his plan all along.

and he can tell you're confused, you had the pills! you took them! and he watches you try to sheepishly dispose of the pregnancy tests, and he even follows you to the gynec’s clinic, careful to keep a distance so you can’t see him.

but you see, if there’s one rule hongjoong would always tell his future kid to follow is to never trust anybody, in your case you didn't have a choice really so he doesn't blame you for giving in to him. but for his kid, he needs to instill this one thing in him thoroughly. the world was a big, bad place, where people like his father lived.

after you confronted him, it was like hongjoong woke up from his sleep, like if he didn’t do anything, didn’t put in efforts, then you could actually leave, and he’d be damned if he ever let you do that. so he decided to level up his games, first it was his change in behaviour, he came home early, he brought in all sorts of trinkets and snacks that he thought you would like and he returned to his normal self, but he could, deep down, sense that it wasn’t the way it was before and he was scared that you pack up and leave still.

it was why he had replaced the birth control pills and even went as far as to poke holes in his condom.

he wasn't a bad man really, but he was getting sick of your protests to leave soon and that you've had enough of him or that you both aren't working anymore. he notices that those complaints have considerably started going down as your focus shifts to your health.

and now he doesn't think the crumbling state of his relationship would matter much, he would hit the reset button and he would become the man that you and his kid needed.

he becomes so, so soft throughout the entire period, it would make you forget about any of the cruelties he ever inflicted on you. and you think to yourself, maybe he really can change, maybe he really did change for the better?

and hongjoong thinks that as well, he's just so happy for the both of you. you're having a baby! it's so exciting!

when you tell him he pretends to not know, to be surprised, “we’re having a baby!” as if he wasn’t the one who conspired and made the whole thing happen.

the best thing is that you seem happy about it too, hongjoong has changed, and there’s nobody else you’d rather have a kid with, especially since you’ve seen how caring he is with other kids and just other people generally, so when it would come to his own kid, he would definitely come into the perfect father category.

when you looked at him, holding his hand, he feels like the man you fell in love with in the beginning and you’re sure, that you’ll love the father of your kid forever. let’s just hope you never find out how he bent seas and mountains to make that happen.

[thewritetofreespeech]

can you do scenarios for the GoM boys + Himuro falling asleep by or on female reader?

GoM Boys + Himuro - Nap Time

Akashi

It was hard to tell when something was wrong with Akashi. He held in his emotions very well. However, being around him so much, and so close, you could tell that something was off; even as he diligently worked on the student council paperwork.

“Akashi-kun, is something the matter?”

The red head looked up from his writing, slower than usual, but smiled. “No [Y/N]. Of course not.”

“I can tell that something is off with you. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

He seemed to hem & haw over your earnest entreaty before he turned back to his paperwork. “I’m just a little tired. Nothing to worry about.” It took a lot for Akashi to mention that. Any sign of weakness was something that his family, or father, would not tolerate. So, it showed how much he trusted you.

You weren’t surprised he was tired. The expectations put on him, as well as his academics, extra curriculars, and basketball, it was a wonder he wasn’t exhausted all the time. The stress must really be getting to him if he was willing to admit he was ‘a little tired’.

Setting down your pen, you sneak over to the door of the student council room and lock it. “Why don’t you lay down on the couch?” You offer. “No one can come in now. And I’ll keep watch for anyone lurking around in the halls.”

“I couldn’t possibly do that.” Akashi insisted. Acting as if the whole idea was absurd.

“Come on. It’s not like you’re the first student council member to crash out on it.” The implication that he was no different from his peers may Akashi furrow his brow. “I won’t tell anyone. Rest is important for recovery. I’ll work on this, and you can take a quick cat nap, and will never tell anyone your shameful secret of you being tired once in your life.”

He scoffed once at your joke, but seemed to concede. “Very well,” Akashi agreed as he loosened his uniform tie and headed for the couch, “as long as my secret is safe with you.”

“Always.”

This seemed to put him at ease and Akashi fell asleep to the sound of your pen against paper. Scribbling away while he rested in the afternoon sun.

Aomine

Aomine napping wasn’t anything new. He spent most of his school days up on the roof in his favorite nap spot, watching the clouds and laying in the sun like a cat. It was a wonder he didn’t get burned.

Climbing the stairs to the roof, you found him spread out on the concrete. Still unsure how that could possibly be comfortable. “Are you going to class at all today?”

The basketball star opened one eye up at you, then shrugged. “I’ll go to lunch.”

“Lunch isn’t a class, Aomine.” You remind him as you knelt beside him.

He stretched long and loud before he settled back into his nap position. “I’m gonna go to science here in a bit. We’re learning about cicadas.” You smirk at Aomine’s childish interest still in all things insect related.

He rolled over and placed his head in your lap. “But that’s not for another half an hour.”

“Hey! I’m not a pillow! And unlike you I have to go to class.”

“If you did you wouldn’t be up here.” He cleverly remarked. You growl a little and tempted to just stand up and let his big, dumb head smack against the pavement.

Aomine’s hand reached back to touch your leg. Not in a gropey way, but in a calm, affectionate, soft kind of way. “Stay with me.”

His words make your heart weak. Looking at his peaceful face, and the gentle way he spoke only to you. Your resolve cracked instantly. “Fine. But we’re going to class at the bell.”

Aomine smirked in his sleep and continued to nap. Resting in your lap with the cool breeze and warm sun. You wish you had brought a book.

Kise

It was late at night when Kise texted you and said he was finally finished with his shoot. The two of you were supposed to meet up for a date, after his modeling gig, but it had run very late. You were willing to let it go, but Kise insisted that you had made plans and were going to stick with them.

“Hey [Y/N]-cchi.” He greeted at the door in his signature way, but with much less enthusiasm.

“Kise you look exhausted.” You tell him honestly, but still let him in and close the door. “I told you we could reschedule. You didn’t have to come all the way over here.”

“No, no. It’s fine.” He insisted as he took off his shoes. “The shoot was really hard, but I felt bad for bailing on you because of work. Do you still want to go out? There’s some after hours clubs I could probably get us into.”

“No thanks.” Aside from the fact that Kise clearly looked tired, you were already in your pjs and didn’t want to get dressed again. “Why don’t we just relax and watch a movie. Did you even eat anything while you were on set?”

“Oh, you know models.” He joked as he followed you down the hall toward the living room on autopilot. “Nothing but coffee and mineral water.”

You tell Kise to sit down on the couch and you would make him something. Surely you had enough stuff in your fridge to make him a sandwich. Coming back into the living room you saw Kise on the couch with his head tipped back on the sofa, asleep. You smile a little as you appreciated the gesture of him wanting to make time for you, but it was clear he was working himself hard to keep up with school, basketball, modeling, and you. Kise was a nice guy. He wanted to make people happy; even sometimes at the expense of himself.

You set the snacks down and pull out a blanket to lay over him. Kise roused a little, but more to adjust to a more comfortable position. His head lulling to the side.

You smile again and curl up next to Kise, who immediately wrapped his arm around you in his sleep. It may not have been the date Kise had wanted with you, but it was still nice to spend time together. Even if you were both asleep for it.

Kuroko

“Kuroko….Kuroko….KUROKO!”

The blue haired boy jumped awake in alarm; or as alarmed as Kuroko could get. He looked at you in surprise as you scrunched your mouth and told him, “You were asleep.”

“Oh. Was I?” He asked rubbing his eyes.

“How could you not know?”

“Well, sometimes when I stay up late reading, I just nod off for a few minutes and wake back up. My presence is so low most people don’t seem to notice.”

“And you don’t walk into walls or anything?” You ask curiously. More interested in the phenomenon than irritated now.

Kuroko shrugged. “Not really. If I do, I’m not moving that fast. So I just bump into it, wake up, and keep going.”

“What if you walk off a bridge or something?!”

“I haven’t done that yet either. So I guess it’s ok.”

You watch Kuroko as you continue to walk to school. Staring at his face until his eyes suddenly slide closed and he was practically sleepwalking the rest of the way to school. He was right. No one really seemed to notice and subconsciously moved out of his way as he moved through the morning bustle. Overall it seemed his body had the muscle memory to get him there unharmed, which was really interesting.

When you came to the crosswalk you reached out and grabbed Kuroko’s hand to hold it. He woke back up, blinked a few times, then looked down at your hands before looking up at you. “I’d like to make sure you don’t walk into traffic.” He smiled and squeezed your hand.

You walk the rest of the way to school, Kuroko in and out of sleep, before you both make it to the gate and he seemed ready for the day. “Thank you for keeping me safe [Y/N].” He told you. Squeezing your hand one last time before you part ways toward your separate classes.

Midorima

His head bobbed yet again as he stared at the textbook before it popped up. Midorima glared at the pages, as if their lack of interesting facts was the problem, and tried to refocus again.

“Why don’t we take a little break?” You suggest. Setting your own book down.

“No.” Midorima said emphatically. “We need to get this done before the next cram school.”

With graduation, and future plans for college fast approaching, you had both signed up for the same cram school. A very advanced, competitive cram school that boasted the highest acceptance rate into top universities. But it wasn’t only that the program was competitive, the students were. And though he tried to hide it Midorima was fiercely competitive.

“Midorima-kun, it’s ok. It was just a fluke. You don’t have to get first place for every practice exam. It’s just practice. Second is fine as well.” His hands gripped the pages of the textbook fiercely. Clearly, he did not agree. You sigh and close your book. “You know, studies show that a brain without enough REM sleep can not only not process information, but actually loose retention of pre-existing information in an effort to prioritize necessary function in the absence of rest.”

“Where did you read that from?”

“The Harvard Medical Journal.”

He stopped scanning the page and looked up at you over his glasses. Clearly only seeing reason now that someone with credentials he hadn’t even met had made the argument. “Fine. 20 minutes, then we go back to studying.”

You smile and come around to the other side of the table by Midorima. He seemed uncomfortable resting beside you, at first. But clearly he was so tired that that didn’t matter and was out very quickly after he closed his eyes. Not even bothering to take off his glasses.

You reset the alarm for an additional 20 minutes to let him rest longer. He was a little upset at the loss of nearly a full precious hour when he woke up, but did look more refreshed, and tackled the books with a newfound gusto.

Murasakibara

“[Y/N]-cchi….this movie is boring….”

“But you picked it?” You remind him as Murasakibara stretched out on the couch; taking up most of is with his size.

“I know, but it’s boring now.” He repeated. “Plus we’re out of snacks.”

“Is that why you’re bored?” You ask, not mentioning that you barely got any of the popcorn or candy you’d brought in. “Because you don’t have any snacks? I can pause and we get you some more.”

“No.” He replied. Although he clearly wasn’t responding to your question. “I’m comfy here now.” His head was in your lap, while the rest of was half covered with a blanket. Which, you had to admit, did look pretty comfortable.

“Murasaki-kun, you’re not going to fall asleep are you? I didn’t mention it earlier, but I kind of have to go to the bathroom and…” Your comments were cut off by a loud snore. Murasakibara clearly already asleep in your lap.

+Himuro

“Annnnd now I’m stuck.”

Himuro chuckled at your misfortune. “Sorry [Y/N]. I could try to move him if you want.”

“No…don’t wake him…” You’d seen Murasakibara woken up from a nap, and it was not pretty.

“Can you really blame him though? I’m sure your pretty comfy.”

“Oh yeah,” you droll back sarcastically, “just a big snuggly fluff ball over here.”

He chuckled again and shifted around under the blanket. “Hmm…I think so.”

“Not you too Himuro!” You hiss, trying not to wake Murasakibara, as he rested his head on your other shoulder.

“I’m not. I’m not.” Himuro insisted. “I’m just kidding around. I have a little more self-control than Murasakibara.” Even as he said that his eyes slid closed, and his words came out slower. Another few breaths and he was asleep. Quietly snoring on your shoulder, while Murasakibara snored loudly near your ear.

Yep….you were really stuck now.

[jesterofcringe]

I can't take it anymore- Is that an exit door? [Liminal space au] Natalie x Reader

this follows the rules of the backrooms except i have no idea how the backrooms work and didnt feel like writing the entities so its liminal spaces instead :3 i love writing cringe can you tell also people who sent in requests im working on em now they'll be out soon 😋👍 ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

★It all started because you were messing around with Natalie and it, once again, got you two in trouble.

★It started with a shove, which turned into a couple of light punches, which turned into a whole play fight. 

★Natalie pushed you hard enough to knock you over, and in trying to save yourself you instinctively grabbed her shirt and the both of you went crashing into the wall.

★Except you didn’t.

★The two of you fell for far too long, as if the wall was never there. Finally, you landed with a splash, your entire body submerged in water.

★You had crashed into a wall, and now you were submerged in water. Because that totally made sense.

★In a panic you scrambled to your feet, rubbing the water out of your eyes. When you opened them, you saw you were in a subway system, water flooded up to your knees.

★Everything got more confusing the more you made an effort to understand what was going on.

★Natalie’s hand shot out and grabbed your arm, “Are… are you seeing this too??”

★“Yeah…” You nodded slow “…I think so.”

★“Subway station, balls deep with water?”

★“Mhm.”

★“Could we like, be hallucinating the same thing?”

★You kicked up the water, splashing her, “Would we be able to feel a hallucination?”

★A heavy silence blanketed the two of you as you shivered and tried to figure out what the hell just happened.

★“Fuck.”

★Natalie started to walk away from you, and you instantly followed after her.

★“Where are you going?”

★“It’s freezing. Hallucination or not we can’t just stay here.”

★She reached back and offered you a hand, which you took in one of your own. Somehow, her fingers were colder than the water.

★Ever since then, nothing really made sense anymore. 

★At the end of the subway there was a door. A door with a faint glow around it. That was the only thing that stayed consistent. A door was always there and it always brought you somewhere new, no matter how different than the last. After the subway station it was a movie theater. Following that was a shopping mall, and an empty parking lot after that one. The doors brought you just about anywhere. You had seen more Walmarts than you cared to admit.

★That wasn’t even the weirdest part. No matter where you were, there was absolutely never any people. Entire amusement parks, attractions moving and all, completely abandoned by human life... Did humanity vanish, or did you?

★“Do you think the rest of the yellowjackets are looking for us?

★It was a random ass question. The last door you guys passed through led you into a gas station and the two of you were in the middle of stuffing a backpack you found with as much resources as you could. Despite thinking Natalie's question was somewhat out of the blue, you couldn't deny the fact that you had been thinking about the same thing.

★“I hope so.”

★ She tossed you a pair of flashlights and a candy bar, “What do you think they’re saying about us?”

★“Probably think we ran away and got married in secret.” You shrugged as you attempted to stuff some bubble gum in the front pocket.

★“At this point we may as well," She ripped open a bag of fruit gummies and offered you some, which you politely declined, "It’s not like we’re ever gonna get out of here.”

★You didn't appreciate the implications of never finding your way out, but you didn't mind the idea of becoming somewhat romantic with Natalie, even if it was due to the fact you two seemed to be likely to die together whether you were romantic or not.

★It was hard to keep track of the days. If you had to guess, it had been a few months. It felt a lot longer than that, though. Time was sort of distorted, although the first few weeks you were obsessed with trying to track how long the two of you had been trapped. Natalie was able to tell the whole concept of time was starting to drive you a bit mad, and the next time the doors brought you some place high up she chucked her watch as far as she could so you would stop staring at it.

★"What the hell Natalie! We needed that!"

★"Knowing the time isn't going to get us out of here! You staying sane, will!"

★You had to really get lucky with the places you ended up. Sometimes you went without food for weeks, sometimes you ended up in places with enough resources to provide for the next eighty years. You never stayed even though you knew you should. You were absolutely desperate to get out. Natalie on the other hand, came to terms with the whole thing surprisingly quick. She was very level headed, her calmness rubbing off on you whenever you started to work yourself up.

★“You’re delusional dude, you need sleep.”

★“I don’t wanna sleep, we need to keep going.”

★“We can keep going tomorrow.”

★“But-“

★“We. Can. Keep. Going. Tomorrow.”

★There was a time you ended up in an elementary school when the both of you were exhausted. You were both too tired to realize you had been walking through the same place every time you found the door. When you eventually did realize it after the third time, Natalie said fuck It, and you ended up spooning on the couch in the front lobby of the school.

★[The next morning the door you passed through led you to a mattress store. You didn’t know who you wanted to kill more, the doors or Natalie. The cuddles were pretty nice though, so you couldn’t stay mad at her.]