#im sorry to all the people coming up with deep thoughts for this au

[jekyllnahyena]

Give it some time Fox, he's trying his best

more dumb doodles in the Fox is the fav and thus has somehow ended up with an allpowerful evil grandpa

[nhaaauyen]

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)

PART V: ‘CAUSE I CAN’T TAKE THIS PAIN FOREVER

zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.

series masterpost: part I // part II // part III // part IV

wc: 8.3k cw: smut (MINORS DNI!!!) author's note: thank you to everyone who read/comments + i see your tags on the reposts you guys make me gay and sappy with all your support tysm 💗 (also im so sorry if the smut is so mid I’m not a smut writer and it’s my second time writing smut ever smhhh)

Fifteen died. Including Grayson. 

Daylight is spent in a daze of cleaning up, tending to the wounded, and trying to process the magnitude of what's happened. People are trying to piece together what little they can salvage, but the damage is more than just physical.

As night falls, the community gathers for a final farewell. The loss is too great, too much to be exposed under the harsh light of day. The night offers a semblance of protection, a cloak under which everyone can mourn and where grief can be private.

Candles flicker in the hands of those gathered and the atmosphere is thick with sorrow. Families huddle together, some on their knees beside makeshift crosses, others standing in silent clusters. The candles illuminate their tears, turning them into tiny rivers of gold that glisten in the darkness.

You stand by Grayson’s cross, surrounded by those who knew and loved her. Vander, his broad shoulders tense and Ekko clutches his candle so tightly that the wax has begun to drip onto his fingers. Powder leans into Vi, who wraps a protective arm around her sister. Caitlyn stands close, her face a mask of composed grief, but her eyes are red-rimmed and distant. Ren holds onto your hand tightly, her small fingers interlaced with yours.

Your gaze keeps drifting to the shadows, searching for one face in particular.  

Then, as if conjured by your thoughts, you spot her. She’s standing under a tree, half-hidden in the shadows. The candlelight doesn’t reach her, leaving her face partially obscured, but you can tell it’s her.  She's motionless, almost statuesque, her expression unreadable.

There’s something in the way she’s watching the scene before her that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s almost as if she’s already a ghost herself, a spirit haunting the edge of the gathering. There’s an emptiness to her, as if the life has been drained out of her and what remains is only a shell, a figure standing over a world she no longer belongs to.

A heaviness resides in your chest, a deep, aching sadness that mirrors the grief of those around you. Grayson’s loss is a wound that cuts deep. She was the heart of this community, the one who held everyone together. And now she’s gone, leaving behind a legacy that feels too big, too important to carry on without her.

The vigil continues, but you feel a shift in the air, a quiet, unspoken understanding that it’s time to go, that there’s nothing more to be done here tonight. Slowly, people begin to leave, one by one, their footsteps soft on the grass. You hesitate, your gaze lingering on Sevika one last time. She hasn’t moved, hasn’t acknowledged your presence or anyone else’s.  

As your family and Ren head to a neighbor’s house, seeking comfort in numbers, you seek solace in solitude instead. 

The silence is almost deafening in your room. You close the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as you let out a shaky breath. 

There’s a soft knock at the door, and for a moment, you think you might be imagining it. But then it comes again, and you push yourself away from the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you reach for the handle.

When you open the door, Sevika is standing there, but she’s not the woman you remember. There’s a hollow look in her eyes, a deep exhaustion etched into every line of her face. She’s hunched over slightly as if the weight of everything has finally broken through her defenses.

For a moment, you just stare at each other, neither of you knowing what to say. 

"What's going on?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Without a word, she steps into the room, her movements slow and almost hesitant.

"Sevika..." you start, but the words die in your throat as she looks at you. Her eyes, usually so guarded, are now pools of raw emotion.

"I could have lost you yesterday," she says, her voice cracking. "I almost did."

You step back and fall onto the edge of your bed, overwhelmed by the intensity of her gaze, the weight of her words.  

Sevika falls to her knees before you, burying her face in your lap. Her body shakes, hands clutching desperately at your clothes. The sight of her kneeling before you sends a shockwave through your system. This is Sevika, the woman who’s always stood tall, who’s never shown weakness. 

“Please…” The word escapes her lips in a raw, broken whisper, her voice laced with a desperation you’ve never heard from her before. “Please… I can’t take this pain forever.”

Your hands hover uncertainly over her. She’s seeking you, but you find yourself instinctively pushing back, your fingers gripping her shoulders to keep some distance between you.  The urge to comfort her wars with the part of you that’s terrified—terrified that if you let her in again, she’ll leave, and you’ll be left with nothing but this overwhelming pain.  

Why now? your eyes ask, the ache in your chest tightening. Why now, when I don’t even know if I can trust you not to leave again?

Sevika looks up, her eyes red-rimmed and filled with vulnerability. She reaches for you, but you flinch away, your body betraying your inner turmoil. I won’t, her eyes seem to respond. her hands clinging to you as if you’re the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely.

The push and pull become physical - Sevika's hands grasping at your clothes, trying to draw you in, while you resist, your grip on her arms keeping her at bay. You see the realization dawn in Sevika's eyes as she understands your hesitation. She doesn't speak, doesn't try to persuade you with words. Instead, she simply holds your gaze, her hands loosening their grip but not letting go entirely.

The tension between you is palpable, a living thing that fills the space between your bodies. You can feel it gnawing at you - the fear that she’ll pull away, that this moment will shatter like glass. 

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Sevika's resistance fades. She doesn't try to pull you closer anymore, but she doesn't move away either. She simply kneels there, her head bowed, waiting.

It's this surrender that finally breaks through your defenses. Your hands, which were pushing her away, now tremble as they cup her face. You tilt her chin up, meeting her gaze fully for the first time.

What you see there takes your breath away - it’s a steadfast devotion that silences your doubts. At that moment, you understand that she's not going anywhere.

Your hands finally move, your fingers threading through her hair and letting it fall from its ponytail. The moment you touch her, she lets out a shuddering breath, her body sagging against you as if the weight she’s been carrying has finally become too much.

Sevika sees the hesitation in your gaze, the lingering fear, and something shifts inside her. She surges up, pulling you into a desperate kiss—a plea for you to trust her.  The kiss is messy, frantic, filled with the need to feel, to connect, to hold onto something real amidst all this.

You respond immediately, your hands drawing her near—even though parts of you want to stop and shield yourself from the possibility of losing her again, you can’t bring yourself to let go.

Her lips are pressing against yours with a need that makes your heart ache, and you both finally give in to the emotions you’ve been holding back for so long. It’s not like the kiss you’ve shared before—this is different. It’s a commitment to each other that you’ve both been too scared to acknowledge until now.

You both fall back onto the bed, your bodies tangling together as you lose yourselves in each other. 

Your hands are never leaving her, your lips never straying too far from hers. Her bionic hand presses into your back gently, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you and you can feel the steady beat of her heart against your chest.

She suddenly pulls you onto her lap. One hand slides under your shirt, causing a shiver to run down your spine, while the other lingers on the small of your back. With a swift movement, she removes your shirt, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable under the moonlight cascading through the window.

A blush creeps up your cheeks at the sudden exposure. 

"You're beautiful." The moonlight dances in her eyes and her voice is filled with sincerity and adoration. 

Your breath hitches as she leans in and presses a kiss onto your chest, her lips travel lower and lower until she forces a nipple out of your bra.  Your gasp quickly turns into a moan as her lips wrap around it and her tongue is swirling, her teeth teasing and biting at the sensitive bud.  

Your hands find their way into her hair and shoulders, grasping at something to stabilize a desire that feels like it could push you over the edge.  As her lips dance across your neck, her tongue tracing the curve of your jaw, you feel your hips surge forward, seeking the friction that will bring you relief. Your hands, still fisted in her clothes, tug her closer, the fabric straining against the pressure. Sevika's fingers, still tangled in your hair, pull your head back further, exposing your throat to her hungry mouth. Her breath is hot against your skin, sending shivers coursing through your veins.  You grind into her fingers, a low, desperate moan builds in your throat, and you hear yourself repeating her name like a mantra.

"Sevika, Sevika, Sevika please."

Your legs tremble as you press into her, the thin fabric of your panties rubbing against her fingers, which are still wrapped around you. The pressure builds, a crescendo of need threatening to consume you whole. 

She teases you, her fingers occasionally dipping inside you before pulling back out to rub against your sensitive nub. Each time you’re on the brink of release, she stops and kisses you deeply, driving you crazy with need.

But finally, when you can’t take it any longer, she plunges two fingers inside you. Your fingers dig deep into her shoulder as she sets a steady pace with her fingers, hitting just the right spot inside you that has you writhing in ecstasy.

You’re panting at her touch, your hips bucking into her hand as she moves her fingers in and out of you, her thumb rubbing circles over your clit. Each touch sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you crave more and more.  She whispers sweet words in your ear along with wicked promises that make you wetter than you could imagine.

You grasp the edge of Sevika's shawl, the delicate fabric slipping through your fingers as you slowly pull it away, exposing her bionic arm to you. The shimmering metal catches the dim light of the room, contrasting beautifully with your warm hands. You can’t help but admire the way it seems to glow, each curve and joint blending seamlessly into her skin. 

Sevika’s breath hitches at the sight of her exposed arm, and a flicker of vulnerability passes over her face. The vulnerability in her eyes makes you want to show her how incredible she is, and how every part of her makes you feel alive.  

You lean closer, your lips brushing softly against her bionic arm, feeling the coolness against your mouth as you press gentle kisses along the sleek surface. It’s smooth, almost soothing, and you feel her relax into your touch. Your breath quickens, merging anticipation and a hunger to worship every part of her. 

She changes your positions, laying you down gently on your bed till your head sinks into a plush pillow.  You can feel the heat radiating off of her body as she begins to kiss down your body. Her lips leave a trail of fire as they make their way down your stomach until they reach the waistband of your panties. She easily removes them and throws them aside.  She starts by lightly kissing and licking your inner thighs, slowly making her way towards your center. You can already feel the heat pooling between your legs as she gets closer and closer to where you want her most. Her gaze locks onto yours as her head hovers over your soaked folds.

“Just focus on me,” her voice comes out hoarse and commanding.

Sevika buries her face between your legs and you gasp at the sudden sensation, gripping the sheets tightly. She flicks and sucks on your clit while slipping a finger inside of you, matching the rhythm of her tongue. There’s a sense of urgency in the way she looks at you – a primal need that mirrors yours perfectly. 

Her fingers dig into your thighs, holding you down firmly.  You feel yourself getting close, but before you can reach your peak, she stops abruptly.

You whimper in frustration, but it’s quickly replaced with adoration as she climbs up to kiss you, tasting yourself on her lips.  

“You got such a pretty body,” She bites teasingly at your ear. “Prettier when it’s a mess for me.” 

A course of desire jolts through you at hearing her low and raspy voice whisper those words. Your fingers trace the curve of her shoulder, moving down her arm until you reach her hand. You intertwine your fingers with hers, feeling the coolness of her bionic hand.  Sevika blows a hot breath over your glistening mound and you instinctively close your legs around her head. 

The room immediately fills with the sound of heavy breathing and the soft, wet noises of skin against skin. Her finger curls inside you, causing your back to arch off the bed in pleasure. 

With each thrust and lap of her tongue, she pushes you closer to the edge. You can feel the tension coiling within you—she intensifies her rhythm, sucking and teasing in perfect harmony with your body's responses. The sensations build higher and higher until they finally explode within you.

You release with a loud cry, shuddering in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure wash over you, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed in bliss.

When you finally break apart, it’s only to catch your breath. Your bodies are still tangled together, a sticky, wet mess, but neither of you cares. Sevika holds you tightly, her face buried in the crook of your neck.

The room is bathed in soft, silvery moonlight filtering in through the window. The sounds of your soft breathing fill the space, mingling with the faint rustle of the sheets. Everything feels tender, and fragile, like you’re both holding on to something delicate and precious, something that could shatter with the slightest misstep.

Your fingers trace the scar on Sevika’s cheek, the roughened skin contrasting the softness of her lips. She looks at you, her eyes searching yours as if she’s trying to read the thoughts that you’re too scared to say aloud.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you murmur, your voice trembling with emotion.

“You won’t,” she whispers back, her lips brushing against yours in the softest of kisses. 

“Promise me..” Your voice falters, struggling to grasp the idea of not being able to feel her, see her, or touch her like this again.  “I don’t know how to exist without you.”

“I’d spend the rest of my days searching,” Sevika replies quietly, her gaze unwavering.  “Even just for the chance of seeing you again.” 

She cups your face with one hand, her thumb brushing gently over your cheek.  “I’ll always find my way back to you.”

You rest your head on her chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heart, the sound soothing in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. Your fingers trace gentle patterns on her skin and a quiet peace settles over you, a sense of calm that you haven’t felt in what seems like forever.

As you lie there, holding each other in the darkness, the world outside seems to fade into insignificance. You close your eyes, letting yourself finally rest, knowing that she’s here with you, that you’re both in this together. It’s a fragile peace, but it’s yours, and in this moment, it’s more than enough.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

One Year Later…

The kitchen glows in the warm light, sunlight streaming through the window and illuminating the marble countertops. The sweet aroma of cinnamon and vanilla fills the air as you stir a pot of rice pudding on the stove.

Ren bursts into the kitchen, twirling in her new outfit - a pretty blue dress with matching ribbons in her hair. "Look!" she exclaims, eyes shining with excitement.

You smile warmly. "You look beautiful, honey. Are you ready for dinner at Vander's?"

Ren nods enthusiastically. "Can I go over early? Please?"

"Of course," you reply, giving her a quick hug. "I'll see you there in a bit."

You watch her go, a fond smile lingering on your lips. Ren has become such a central part of your life, switching between living with you and Sevika, and some nights, staying over at Vander’s with the rest of your family. Dinners at Vander’s have also become a tradition, starting as a semblance of normality for the kids until you realize that sometimes everyone just needed a family meal too.

You turn back to your work, carefully measuring out the sugar to add to the pudding. You’re so focused on getting everything just right that you don’t notice when Sevika slips into the kitchen. She moves quietly, her steps almost soundless as she approaches the stove. It’s only when you glance up and see her broad back that you realize she’s there, her figure blocking the light from the window.

"Hey, you're home," you start to say, but then you spot the spoon in her mouth. "Sev!" you exclaim. "I'm not done with that!"

Sevika turns, the spoon still between her lips. "Tastes good," she mumbles around it, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s supposed to taste good when it’s finished,” you retort, gently pushing her away from the stove. 

Suddenly, you feel Sevika's arms encircle your waist, her body warm against your back. She nuzzles into your neck, placing a soft kiss just below your ear. "Mmm," she hums, "doesn’t taste as good as you, though."

“Don’t think you can sweet-talk me into letting you try more,” you say, trying to stay focused despite the distraction she’s providing.

She chuckles again, her deep voice rumbling against your back. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

You smile, the familiar banter easing you into a comfortable lull. The gentle pressure of her arms around you, the way she’s so casually affectionate now, fills you with warmth. 

"Hey, did you bring home any fruit for the pudding?" you ask, turning in Sevika's arms.

You feel her tense slightly, her smile faltering.  "We’re having a bit of a dry season," she says, her tone careful.

The words hang heavy in the air. You know the reality - supplies have been tight lately, with produce struggling to grow and the scavenging teams venturing further each time.

Before you can dwell on it further, Sevika leans in to kiss you, clearly trying to change the subject. But as she does, you catch a whiff of something less than pleasant, and you instinctively pull back, wrinkling your nose.

"Babe, you fucking stink," you blurt out.

Sevika's eyes goes wide in shock, then narrows playfully. "Oh, really?" she growls, trying to pull you closer.

You dance out of her grasp.“Go start a bath,” you say between giggles. “I’ll join you in a bit, okay?”

She lets out a noise of disapproval but obeys regardless. “I wasn’t that bad,” she mutters as she turns toward the bathroom.

“Yes, you were,” you call after her, still grinning as you watch her go. “Go on, I’ll be there soon.”

With Sevika finally convinced, you head to your bedroom to grab some towels.

The bedroom has changed over the past year, becoming more of a shared space than it ever was before. Sevika's red shawl drapes over the back of a chair, while your jewelry glitters on the dresser. The wall above the bed is adorned with colorful drawings - Ren's artwork, depicting your entire makeshift family, the sight of it never failing to warm your heart.

It had started casually enough - a few items of clothing left behind after hurried encounters, a toothbrush appearing in the bathroom. You and Sevika were sneaking around, stealing moments together whenever you could.

When you finally told your family about your relationship, they celebrated, of course.   It wasn’t a surprise to them—they had seen the way you and Sevika gravitated toward each other, the looks you reserved solely for one another.  You found yourself practically living at Sevika's, though neither of you had officially acknowledged the change.

Then came the day you noticed the difference in her dresser. The already sparse drawers had been reorganized, creating a dedicated space just for you. Your scattered belongings were neatly arranged, claiming their place in Sevika's life.

You remember standing there, staring at that drawer, your heart swelling with emotion. It was such a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. Sevika, always more comfortable with actions than words, had found her way of saying "stay".

A small smile forms on your lips at the memory as you close the closet.  Gathering the towels, you head towards the sound of running water.

You settle onto the stool beside the bathtub, watching Sevika relax in the warm, soapy water. Her broad shoulders peek out from the bubbles, her head tilted back slightly as she rests, eyes half-closed in contentment. The sight of her—this tough, unbreakable woman— soaking in the bath like she has nowhere else to be, makes you giggle.

"You look adorable."

Sevika cracks one eye open, giving you a playful glare that’s nowhere near as intimidating as she probably hopes it’ll be. "I’m not adorable," she grumbles.

You reach for a washcloth, gently running it over her back. Your fingers work out the knots in her muscles, and you feel her relax under your touch. The bathroom is quiet except for the soft lapping of water and Sevika's contented sighs.

"Don't get me wet, Sev," you warn as she shifts in the tub.

“I thought I always did,” she shoots back with a sly grin, and before you can react, she splashes a handful of water at you.

The warm water hits you square in the chest, soaking your shirt. You let out a small gasp, and Sevika just laughs, clearly pleased with herself.  

“Now I’ve got no choice but to join you, huh?” you say, feigning annoyance as you peel off your damp clothes.

Sevika's arms wrap around you as you settle between her legs, your back pressed against her chest. "No funny business," you remind her. "We've got dinner later."

She groans, burying her face in your neck. "Do we have to do that?"

You intertwine your fingers with hers, squeezing gently. "Yes, we all need it. Even you, Miss Grumpy."

Sevika huffs, but doesn't argue further. It's rare to see her act so petulant, and you can't help but find it endearing. You lean back further into her embrace, savoring the warmth of her skin against yours.

A chuckle escapes you as a memory surfaces.

"What's so funny?" Sevika murmurs against your ear.

"I'm thinking about us," you reply, still grinning. "Remember the first time you came to family dinner?"

Sevika groans again, this time in embarrassment. That first dinner had been spectacularly awkward. Sevika, sitting at Vander’s table, towering over everyone, her presence so imposing that no one knew how to break the ice. You could feel the discomfort radiating from the others as they tried and failed to strike up conversation. Sevika, never much of a talker herself, hadn’t made it any easier. 

"I thought Caitlyn was going to have an aneurysm trying to make conversation," you laugh.

"She kept asking about the weather," Sevika recalls. "As if we don't all live in the same damn place."

“But my family loves you now.”

Sevika raises an eyebrow. “They’re still nervous around me though.”

“True,” you admit, chuckling. “But now they know you’re not going to kill them if they say the wrong thing. Well, most of them know that, anyway.”

”I like to keep them on their toes.” Sevika smirks, her lips brushing against your neck. “Can’t let them forget who I am.”

You turn in her arms, facing her now. "I don’t think they would be as afraid if they saw you in a bubble bath right now."

She narrows her eyes at you. "I’m still scary."

"Is that so?" you challenge, your faces inches apart. 

Instead of answering, Sevika closes the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss. You sigh into it, brushing a damp strand of hair behind her ear.

You're nestled against Sevika, the warm water lulling you into a peaceful state when a sharp knock shatters the moment. 

"Who the hell..." She's about to call out, likely with some choice words, when a familiar voice filters through the door.

"Sevika? You in there?"

It's Ran. Sevika's expression immediately hardens. 

She gives you an apologetic look as she carefully extracts herself from the tub, wrapping a towel around her body.  You remain in the bath, straining to hear the muffled conversation. Snippets reach your ears—"Silco... needs to see you... scouts..." 

By the time you've dried off and dressed, Sevika is already changed, her face grim. She's heading for the door, and you follow.

Out on the streets, the usual bustle of Zaun seems subdued. Sevika turns to you, her eyes softening slightly.

"It's just a quick meeting," she assures you, though her tone lacks conviction. "I'll be back, okay?"

You look at her, worry evident in your gaze. She must see it because she adds, "Family dinner is still on. I promise."

You watch Sevika disappear down the street, her words echoing in your mind. Despite her assurances, you can't shake the feeling of unease that settles in your chest. Instead of heading home, your feet carry you to a familiar path.

The old target practice area comes into view, untouched since Grayson's passing. The targets are weathered now, the paint faded and peeling. You moved the practice area after... after everything, but this place still holds a piece of history you can’t forget.

You settle onto the worn bench, you could almost hear Grayson's patient voice, the sound of gunfire. Now it's quiet, a ghost of what it used to be.

Lost in thought, you barely notice the approaching footsteps until a shadow falls across you.

"Quite the view from up here, isn't it?"

A man’s voice cuts through your reverie. You look up to see him, his usual sly smile in place. 

"Mind if I join you?"  He doesn't wait for an answer before settling onto the bench beside you.

“What do you want, Finn?” you ask, your guard instantly up.

“Just wanted a place to admire Zaun,” he replies. "It’s getting a bit crowded down there.”

You remain silent, wary of engaging. Instead, you’re both gazing out over Zaun—The community sprawls below, a patchwork of light and shadow.

"You know," Finn begins, his voice casual, "I used to come up here sometimes, watch Grayson train the new recruits. She had a way about her, didn't she? A real vision for what Zaun could be."

You nod, unsure where he's going with this.

Finn continues, his tone thoughtful. "Things have changed a lot since then. More people, less space. Resources getting tighter." He glances at you sideways. "Makes you wonder what Grayson would think of it all."

There's something in his voice that puts you on edge, a subtle challenge. You choose your words carefully. "Grayson always believed in Zaun's potential."

"Ah, but potential for what?" Finn leans in conspiratorially. "It looks like things are starting to fray at the edges. People are getting restless, hungry. And when that happens… well, who knows what might come next?" 

You feel a surge of anger, but you keep it in check, refusing to let him get under your skin. “Zaun’s strong,” you say firmly. “So if you’re trying to stir up trouble, you can take it somewhere else.”

Finn holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "Of course, of course. I'm just thinking about the future, you know? But hey, I'm sure Silco's got it all figured out."

Finn stands, brushing off his pants. "Give my regards to Sevika," he says lightly. 

"Tell her... we're all counting on her to keep us safe."

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

You and Sevika walk side by side through the bustling streets of Zaun, the rice pudding cradled carefully in Sevika’s arms. As you approach the door, you can already hear the sounds of laughter and chatter from inside. Before you can even step over the threshold, a blur of blue barrels into view. 

Just as Powder rounds the corner, she nearly collides with you, her eyes wide as she skids to a halt. “Oops, sorry!” she exclaims, a sheepish grin spreading across her face as she steadies herself. “Sorry, double for last time,” she adds with a knowing look.

It had been a few weeks ago, when Sevika was trying to grow out her hair, a fact she was oddly self-conscious about. You guys were standing in the courtyard, watching as Powder excitedly showed off her new contraption, a slime trap shooter she cobbled together from spare parts. 

The demonstration started off well enough, but suddenly a glob of viscous slime shot out wildly, landing with a wet splat right in Sevika's hair.

Powder's enthusiasm instantly turned into fear as she realized what she's done.The look on Sevika’s face had been priceless—a mix of surprise and horror as she reached up to touch the mess clinging to her hair.

“I’m gonna kill that kid,” Sevika grumbled, her voice low and menacing.  “My hair looks like shit.”

You’d barely managed to suppress your laughter when it first happened, but now in Vander’s bathroom you couldn’t hide your amusement. 

“So, that’s a no on having kids, then?” you joked as you reached for a pair of scissors to help trim the slime-covered strands.

Sevika had turned to look at you, her expression one of shock and something else—something deeper that neither of you had wanted to confront. It was just a small joke, but it carried the weight of a conversation you hadn’t yet had, and might never have. Sometimes,  you couldn’t avoid the fact that this was it for you two.

But you quickly brushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. As you carefully trimmed the damaged hair, you leaned in close, whispering in Sevika’s ear, “You’re sexy already. No amount of slime will change that.”  

That had earned you a reluctant smile from her in that moment.

"No harm done.”  You tell Powder, inconspicuously kicking Sevika’s feet to agree.

“Yeah.” She grunts, and you hold in a snicker at the obvious grudge she held. 

As you enter the kitchen, you're greeted by the sight of Vander attempting to wrangle a massive pot of stew.  

“There you two are,” Vander says, looking up from his cooking. “Thought you might’ve gotten lost on the way here.”

“Not a chance,” Sevika replies, setting the rice pudding down on the counter with a grin. “This one would never forgive me if I missed dinner.”

“Damn right,” you reply. “You need any help, Vander?”

“Nah, we’re about done here,” Vander says, wiping his hands on a towel. “Just need to get everything into the living room. You know how these animals are when they’re hungry.”

You laugh, grabbing a tray of bread rolls while Sevika grabs a platter of roasted vegetables.  She follows you out into the living room, where the rest of the group is already making themselves comfortable. Ekko is lounging on the floor, watching Powder and Ren as they buzz around him. Caitlyn and Vi are chatting quietly in one corner, Vi’s arm casually draped over the back of Caitlyn’s chair.

“Hey you two,” you greet, setting the tray down on a table near the center of the room. “Food’s here.”

Vi reaches for a roll, and Caitlyn swats her hand. "Wait for everyone, you brute," she says affectionately.

"Come on, cupcake, I'm starving!" Vi whines dramatically.

Soon, everyone settles in various spots around the room, grabbing plates and piling on food. Vander passes around mugs of ale, the rich, amber liquid sloshing slightly as he hands it to the adults. 

Sevika sits down beside you on the floor, her back against the couch, and you hand her a plate, watching as she loads it up with a bit of everything. Powder's regaling everyone with a tale of her latest explosive experiment, complete with dramatic reenactments.

"You guys won't believe what I made today!" She exclaims, barely touching her food as she launches into her story. "So I took some wires from that old TV we found, and I connected them to a car battery. Then I rigged up this pressure plate..."

"And then - BOOM!" she exclaims, throwing her arms wide and nearly knocking over Ekko's plate.

"Watch it, Pow," Ekko grumbles, but there's no real annoyance in his voice.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of laughter and conversation filling the room around you.  As the meal winds down, Powder's eyes light up with a new idea. She bounds over to you and Sevika.

"Hey, hey! You guys wanna play Nerf guns with us?" she asks, her eyes wide and pleading.

Sevika raises an eyebrow. 

"I modified them. They shoot further now, and I added a cool light-up feature, and-"

"Modified?" Sevika interrupts, looking slightly alarmed, she was already thinking about the last mishap with Powder’s “modifications”.

You laugh at the expression on Sevika's face, she couldn’t hide the suspicion and concern written all over it. "Come on, Sev," you nudge. "Could be fun."

Powder's practically bouncing now. "Please? Pretty please? I promise there’s no slime this time!"

Sevika sighs. "Fine." she concedes.

"Yes!" Powder cheers. "You won't regret it!"

Powder herds you, Sevika, Ekko, and Ren onto the couch, squishing you all together as she stands before you, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Alright, listen up!” Powder announces, pulling out a set of nerf guns. The colorful plastic weapons are covered in stickers and doodles, clearly customized to her liking. She hands one to each of you.

Sevika takes hers with a skeptical look, turning it over in her hands. “You can’t shoot shit with this,” she mutters, the derision clear in her voice.

“Oh, yeah?” Powder smirks, clearly prepared for this. She whirls around, aims at a water bottle perched on the windowsill, and fires. The nerf dart flies across the room and smacks the bottle dead center, sending it tumbling to the floor with a satisfying thud.

Sevika raises an eyebrow, impressed despite herself. 

“Now that we’ve established these aren’t toys for babies,” Powder continues, pacing in front of the couch. “here’s the game: upstairs, there’s a crown stashed somewhere by Vi.  The goal is to retrieve the crown and bring it to Vander downstairs. Upstairs is a no-shoot zone, but downstairs, if you’re hit with a dart, you’re out.”

She claps her hands together, clearly relishing her role as the game master. "Now, we need to split into teams," Powder continues. "Sevika and Ekko, you're one team. And-"

You all glance at Ren, the youngest of the group at just eight years old. There's a moment of awkward silence as everyone tries to figure out how to handle this diplomatically.

"You should take her," you say sweetly. 

Sevika’s eyes narrow playfully, already sensing where this is going. “The kid likes you more."  Despite being dubious of the game at first, you could tell Sevika’s competitiveness was taking over.

“I thought this was just a kids’ game?” you tease, leaning in slightly with a raised eyebrow.

Sevika gives you a sheepish look, clearly caught between her competitive streak and her soft spot for Ren. 

Feeling a bit guilty, you suggest, "Why don't we let Ren pick?"

Ren beams up at both of you, clearly delighted to have the choice. "I wanna be on your team!" she exclaims, pointing at you and Powder.

“You’re gonna be our secret weapon,” you whisper, wrapping an arm around Ren’s shoulders.

“Alright then,” Ekko chimes in, finally managing to free himself from the couch. “Let’s do this.”

Everyone grabs their nerf guns and heads outside. You can't help but chuckle at the sight of Sevika, usually so intimidating, clutching a bright orange plastic gun with a determined look on her face.

"Alright, teams start at opposite ends of the house," Powder instructs. "When I give the signal, the hunt begins!"

You crouch behind a bush with Powder and Ren, all of you trying (and failing) to look serious with your toy weapons.

"Ready?" Powder calls out. "Set... GO!"

And with that, you all come barreling into the house. Powder darts ahead, her movements quick and erratic. You follow, trying to keep an eye on Ren while scanning for potential ambush spots.

As you round a corner, you come face to face with Sevika. For a moment, you both freeze, nerf guns pointed at each other. 

"Sorry, babe," you say, not sorry at all as you pull the trigger.

But Sevika's reflexes are faster. She ducks, the foam dart whizzing over her head, and returns fire. You barely dodge, and you take the moment to sneak onto the stairs.

Upstairs, you quickly begin your search, darting in and out of rooms, peeking under beds and behind curtains for any sign of the hidden crown.  Ren’s small size gives her an advantage as she slips into tight spots that you and Powder can’t quite reach.

But despite your efforts, it was nowhere to be found. "How?" you mutter, bewildered.

Powder's eyes narrow, scanning the area. "Ekko," she hisses, pointing to an open window. "He must've climbed up from outside!"

Quickly, you formulate a plan. Ren is dispatched to keep watch with Vander, ensuring Ekko can't make a sneaky victory while you and Powder hunt down Sevika and Ekko.

With that, you guys head back downstairs, moving quietly as you scan the house for any signs of the other team. As you move through the house, you and Powder eventually decide to split up, hoping to cover more ground. 

It doesn’t take long before you spot Sevika, her broad frame moving stealthily through the hallway. She hasn’t seen you yet, and you quickly close the distance, pressing yourself against the wall to remain hidden. When she finally turns the corner, you’re right there, catching her off guard.

“Drop the gun,” you command, your voice low and teasing as you pin her against the wall, your body pressing into hers. Sevika’s eyes widen in surprise, her hands instinctively going up in mock surrender, though there’s a glint of amusement in her gaze.

“And what if I don’t?” she murmurs, her lips quirking into a playful smile.

“Then I’ll have to make you,” you reply, your tone equally flirtatious as you lean in closer, the game momentarily forgotten.

"Ewww, get a room!" Ekko's voice breaks the spell. You spin around to find Ekko aiming at you, the crown tucked under his arm. 

But before you can react, Powder emerges from a doorway behind Ekko, her nerf gun raised and ready. Without missing a beat, she fires a dart that hits Ekko square in the back. “Gotcha!” she shouts triumphantly.

Ekko’s eyes widen in shock as he instinctively drops the crown, clutching his back where the dart hit. “Hey, what the fuck, Powder?!” he exclaims, his tone incredulous.

“Language, Ekko!” Vander’s voice booms from the kitchen, echoing through the house.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Sevika quickly knocks the nerf gun out of your hand. But before she can fully capitalize on her victory, you kick the crown down the hallway, sending it skittering toward the kitchen.

“Move kid!” Sevika barks as she grabs Ekko by the arm, dragging him behind a couch. Ekko, still nursing his mock wound, yells out dramatically, “Man down! Man down!”

There's a moment of tense silence, then Ekko's voice pipes up again. "I'm getting healed by a health kit!"

“What the hell?” Powder says with a look of utter disbelief. “There’s no health kit in this game!”

"Yeah, 'cause I took it!" Ekko retorts, popping up from behind the couch and unleashing a barrage of foam darts.

The living room erupts into chaos. You dive behind an armchair, Powder taking cover behind another couch. Foam darts fly in every direction, peppering the air with colorful streaks.

You peek out, catching Sevika's eye across the room. She winks at you before ducking to avoid a well-aimed shot from Powder. 

"Cover me!" you shout to Powder, making a dash for the hallway where the crown disappeared.

Ekko leaps over the couch, trying to intercept you. "Oh no, you don't!" he yells, unleashing a volley of darts in your direction.

You slide across the hardwood floor, narrowly avoiding his attack. Sevika provides covering fire for Ekko, keeping Powder pinned down.

As you scramble to your feet at the kitchen entrance, ready to grab the crown and make a triumphant dash to Vander, you freeze. The crown is gone.

A throat clears behind you. You turn to see Vander, sitting calmly at the kitchen table. Beside him stands Ren, a victorious grin on her face and the crown placed neatly on Vander's head.

The chaos in the living room dies down as everyone realizes what's happened. Ren's giggles fill the sudden silence.

"I believe," Vander says, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "that we have a winner."

For a moment, you're all too stunned to speak. Then Powder bursts out laughing, followed quickly by Ekko. Soon, you're all in stitches, the absurdity of the situation hitting you all at once.

As you catch your breath, you feel Sevika's arm wrap around your waist. "Can’t believe we were outsmarted by an eight-year-old," she murmurs in your ear.

You lean into her, watching as Vander lifts Ren onto his shoulders, parading her around the kitchen as the victor. Ekko and Powder are already arguing about a rematch and new teammates for next time.

As the excitement of the game winds down, Vander glances at the clock. "It's getting late." 

You nod in agreement, glancing over at Ren. “Do you want to stay at Powder’s or with us tonight?” 

Ren's eyes light up. "Stay with Powder!" she exclaims without hesitation.

Before you can even respond, Powder and Ekko are already shepherding Ren up the stairs, their voices a jumble of excited plans for a sleepover.

Caitlyn and Vi exchange a knowing look. "Ooh, you two are finally getting some alone time," Vi teases with a wink.

You feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Sevika seems unfazed. 

"So, how are those new recruits doing on the walls? Getting the hang of things?"  You ask, trying to get the attention off you.

Caitlyn's face does a complicated dance between diplomacy and honesty. "Well, they're... enthusiastic." 

Vi snorts, unable to contain herself. "Come on, cupcake. Tell 'em the truth."

Caitlyn's facade cracks. "Alright, fine. Their aim is absolutely atrocious. I've never seen so many missed targets in my life. We had one recruit who managed to shoot his own hat off."

You all burst out laughing, the mental image too ridiculous to resist.

Vander shakes his head. "Everyday I’m thankful that’s not me, I'm getting too old for that kind of headache."

Sevika raises an eyebrow at him. "Not too old to keep experimenting with your homebrews though, are you?"

You all laugh at that. It's true - besides overseeing the community's agriculture, Vander's taken to crafting various meads and ales in his spare time.

"I'll have you know that my brewing skills only improve with age, unlike my patience," Vander puffs up his chest in mock indignation.  “And I'm taking back the ale from tonight, can't have you lot disparaging my other talents.”

Vi grins. "C'mon, Vander. You know the community needs that alcohol. How else are we supposed to cope with Powder's 'experiments'?"

This sets off another round of laughter, but your conversation is suddenly interrupted when Ren comes downstairs, looking shy and hesitant. 

"What's wrong, sweetie?" 

Sevika seems to understand before you do, her voice softening as she reaches out to Ren. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you tucked in.”

The three of you make your way upstairs, the house now quiet as the night settles in. Ren leads you to the bedroom she’s sharing with Powder and Ekko. 

Sevika moves to the bed, pulling back the covers and helping Ren climb in. Ren looks up at you both, her eyes wide and a little sad, as Sevika tucks the blankets around her snugly. “Can you get it?” Ren asks quietly.

You follow her gaze to the small play tent in the corner of the room, where she likes to spend her time during the day. You walk over, crouching down to peer inside, and that’s when you see it—peeking out from under a pile of toys. Your breath hitches as you recognize it instantly: Grayson’s yellow armband.

You carefully pull it out, the fabric worn but still vibrant, and bring it over to Ren. She takes it from you, her small hands wrapping around the band as if it’s the most precious thing in the world. “I miss her,” she whispers.

Your heart breaks at the sight of her holding onto that small piece of Grayson. You kneel beside the bed, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I know, honey,” you say softly. “We all miss her. But she’s always with us, in here.” You gently place a hand over Ren’s heart, offering her a comforting smile.

Ren nods and she clutches the armband tightly, her grip strong for someone so small. Sevika’s expression is unreadable, a mix of emotions flashing across her face as she watches the scene unfold. 

After a few moments, Ren’s eyelids start to droop, exhaustion finally taking over. You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to Ren’s forehead. “Goodnight sweetie,” you whisper.

You and Sevika quietly bid Ekko and Powder goodnight as well, sharing a few last words before heading back downstairs. The house is much quieter now, the energy from earlier having dissipated into a peaceful calm. You say your goodbyes to Vander, Caitlyn, and Vi, thanking them for the evening.

As you step out into the cool night air, the streets of Zaun are mostly quiet. Sevika’s hand finds yours, her grip warm and comforting. “You okay?” she asks.

You nod, though your mind is still on Ren and the armband. “Yeah,” you say softly, squeezing her hand. “It’s just… it’s hard sometimes, you know? Seeing how much she misses Grayson.”

Sevika doesn’t respond right away, but you feel her thumb brushing gently over your knuckles, a silent gesture of understanding. “She’s a tough kid,” she finally says.  “She’s more resilient than we think.”

You wordlessly agree, falling into a comfortable silence as you guys listen to the hum of the surrounding houses and your footsteps on the pavement.  For a while, neither of you speak, simply enjoying the quiet together.

You find yourself stealing glances at Sevika, admiring her profile in the dim light. She catches you looking and raises an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. You playfully bump your shoulder against hers, and she returns the gesture, a bit harder.

You smile, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you bump her again, just to see what she’ll do.

Sevika doesn’t say anything, but you can see the corner of her mouth twitching upward, that almost-smile that she gets when she’s trying to keep her cool but failing just a bit. She bumps you back, a little more firmly this time, and you laugh, the sound light and carefree in the stillness of the night.

You nudge her again, and this time, she stops walking altogether. Before you can react, she grabs your hand, pulling you toward her with a gentle but firm tug. The sudden movement catches you off guard, and you stumble slightly, your hands instinctively reaching out to steady yourself.

But Sevika’s already there, her strong arms wrapping around you, holding you close. There’s a brief moment where you just look at each other, the playful teasing of earlier fading into something softer, more intimate. The distance between you disappears, and you feel the warmth of her body against yours, the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathes.

She doesn’t say anything—doesn’t need to. The look in her eyes, the way she’s holding you, it says it all. 

Without a word, she leans down, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss. It’s sweet and gentle, and it fills you with a warmth that spreads through your chest, making you feel like you could stay here forever, wrapped up in this simple, perfect moment.

You melt into the kiss, your hand sliding from her shoulder to the nape of her neck. 

When she finally pulls back, it’s only by a fraction, her forehead resting against yours as she breathes out a soft sigh. You can't resist leaning in to place another quick kiss on her lips, delighting in the way it makes her smile.  

"What was that for?" you ask softly, not that you're complaining.

"Do I need a reason?" she asks, her voice husky but tender.

You shake your head, smiling. "Definitely not. Feel free to do that anytime."

She chuckles softly, pulling you close as you resume your walk home. Her arm wraps securely around your waist, and you lean into her, feeling safe and cherished.

taglist:

@mirconreadzztuff22 @lils-1979 @veoomvroom @schmoni

@poxismind @kittykatz1227 @archangeldyke-all @abbyssgf @ivorydevil

@lez-zuha @iamastar @jellyfishrnice @anemoxlys @l0vel3tterl0ver

@lavendersgirl @h0pe-scotch @lia-winther @kittykatz1227 @dontknowwhenispawned

@sevikitty @sarahduke @raphaellearp @cewl-casper @crying-lighting443

@sodavrr @sweet-lover-girl @love-sevikalove @pinkyykisses @glass-apothecary

@mulan-but-gay @lesbnrock @hyuckiesoftie @melanie-watermelon @powderbomb-jinxed

@levilvrr @theacedragon0w0

[reader-from-another-dimension]

IM BACK IM ALIVE So sorry for being dead for a bit tehe im back again with some tomfoolery, hope you enjoyyy :P Secondbee au by @yuukirita!!! Part 1, 2, 3 hereeee

_____________________________

Elita regrets telling Optimus about the cave-in.

She sighs, watching the leader of the Autobots pace around the moving train, occasionally stopping to look out at the window glass to check if they’re there yet.

You would’ve thought she told him the Decepticon had busted in their base. The way his face pales (as much as it could being silver, anyways) and how he insisted on coming with.

She wasn’t worried about Cliffjumper, not really, the mech can handle himself just fine - there was a reason his name was what it is, after all. But alas, logic might not be available inside Optimus’ blue-helm right now, seriously, he spirals.

“Optimus, sit-down.” The pink mech grits out, she was already in a bad mood when Cliff scares her half to death when his comm suddenly cuts out, then the reports about the collapsing mine.

How ironic, she couldn’t have ever forgotten that mine. There were a lot of feelings going on when she assigned the place to Cliffjumper, it was mostly to just distract the bot, but deep down, she had hoped that he might be able to stumble upon sub-50.

Now, Elita has never personally seen sub-50, the place was a myth to her, a warning to scare mine-bots into behaving, she hadn’t thought the mines even went that low.

She hasn’t gone there, not really. Not even after what happened.

She wasn’t sure if she even wanted to.

Optimus told her about it, sometimes, if he had enough high-grade on a particularly slagged day. He told her about Steve and the others (she had only recognized Steve’s name), told her about how he and D-Megatron found him.

The stories usually ends there, when the mech starts shaking and they drop the topic.

Elita knew, she heard enough of Cliff’s complaints enough to know, Optimus truly couldn’t handle the red-mech being in any sort of danger, even though he was a fully trained soldier. Jazz said it might be a fragged-up coping mechanism, she wasn’t sure.

The Prime babies Cliffjumper to the point of ridiculousness, it had only gotten worse.

Despite that, Elita couldn’t bring it on herself to talk Optimus down from it. It was also pretty funny to watch, too.

Optimus flinches at her rough voice, and meekly sits down next to her, his antennas scratching the roof of the train, making both of them wince. Elita sighs.

This is going to take awhile.

______________________

Finally, finally, they arrived at the cave-in mine. Next to her, Optimus exhales shakily at the sight of the mine’s entrance. She had told him to stay behind, damnit.

Regardless, they look around, occasionally tapping their comms to search for Cliff’s frequency, awaiting a response. Every cycle passes, the more nervous and jittery Optimus becomes, pacing around again. Elita sighs, she could never understand how some people find this mech intimidating, was it the height difference?

They walk and walk, until finally arriving at the reported collapsed part of the mines. Also presumably where Cliff’s signal was lost.

Elita grimaces at the gaping hole in the ground, so deep she couldn’t even see the bottom. Glancing at Optimus, she can clearly tell the mech was going to lose it at this point.

She nudges him, tilts her helm, then jumps down.

Optimus’ scream is like music to her audio-receiver.

________________________

They landed in a run-down hallway, looking like there was no one around for centuries, the amount of dust in this place is going to clog her vents, ugh.

“Elita.” Optimus calls out, and she walks over, glancing at what he was pointing at.

Fresh poot prints, about the same size as Cliff’s.

“Well,” She lets out an exhale she didn’t realize she was holding. “Looks like we won’t be here for long, after all.”

They continue on.

Passing broken lamps and scratched walls, Elita frowns at the shredded posters of Sentinel, she’d recognize those claw marks anywhere - Cliff never really had good impulse control. They were heading in the right direction.

“Hey, Elita.” Optimus’ voice jolts her out of thoughts, she looks at him.

“Do you think…nevermind.” Oh no, they’re not doing this again.

“Once you start something, better spit it out, Optimus.” Elita snaps, it was the only sure way to pry any kind of worry out of the Prime, he had developed this nasty habit of hiding things - even from her.

Optimus isn’t looking at her, but his antennas are flat against his helm, red flag.

“The matrix, it’s…acting up.” That made her pause, as much of a blessing the artifact had been, it was also a huge headache, for both her and Optimus. Damn gods and their cryptic relics.

“It is? How long has it been doing that? Have you gone to Ratchet for that? What am I saying, of course you haven’t, Primus, Optim-” “Elita!” The Prime’s shout cuts Elita off of her rant, she glares at him, but the annoyance quickly vanishes when she sees what he was pointing at.

Cliffjumper, very much alive and kicking, standing shell-shocked at the sight of the two of them at an end of a dimly lit hallway. Elita releases a vent she didn’t know she was holding. See, Optimus? Cliff was fine, he-

What the pit is he holding?

Cliffjumper seems fine, nowhere physically injured, at least. Squinting her optics, as Optimus calls out for the red bot, Elita can vaguely make out a small figure in Cliff’s hold, like a drone bot.

Primus, if Cliffjumper also starts getting attached to and bringing back drone bots, Elita wouldn’t know what to do. Why, oh why did out of all of Optimus’ traits, that would be what Cliff picks up after the Prime.

Oh wait, he’s coming closer to them, Elita can hear his voice echoing back from the end of the long hallway.

“Optimus, Elita! L-Look!” Oh no.

“Cliff, I swear to Primus, if you’ve picked up another dro-” Elita had to cut herself off, her voice failing her as she looked at what Cliffjumper had in his hold.

“...Oh.” Optimus mumbles, his out-stretched hand frozen mid-air.

Elita resets her optics, twice.

Shivering in Cliffjumper’s arms, so small Optimus could probably hold him in one hand, was a sparkling. An honest to Primus actual, active sparkling.

And that’s not even the real kicker. Because when Elita resets her optics again, Optimus has one knee on the ground. One would think he’s doing it in order to not scare the small sparkling who’s a fraction his size, but Elita knows better, it took all of her willpower to not do the same.

Bright, if a bit dirty, yellow frame, with two black stripes running down their rounded chest frame. Two small (absolutely itty bitty) wings on the back, jittery in their movements, likely from nervousness due to the sudden attention.

A small horn at the side of their head, the other side missing, likely an accident, based on the dent on the sparkling’s helm.

Elita lets out a shaky vent, her frame is still and high-strung, like one small push can set her off.

Optimus hasn't said anything yet, he’s not moving, instead the Prime stares at the sparkling who looks so much like a friend that it hurts. Primus must have an awfully twisted sense of humor, he must be.

An old wound now all torn back open, blistering with pain she thought was long gone. Optimus’ frame shakes with frantic vents.

The sparkling looks up at the two of them with wide, scared but curious blue optics. They cling to Cliffjumper like a lifeline, small hands holding on red frames so tight it would’ve left dents.

“E-Elita-” Optimus finally speaks up, he calls out for her, but his optics didn’t leave the sparkling, he didn’t dare to.

“...B?” For the first time in her life, Elita can admit that her voice broke, just this once.

[cinnamostar]

five dates to fall in love

part one. part two. part three (here). part four. part five. part six coming soon.

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 2.7k

cw :actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn (?!), not proofread, descriptors of insecurity and stuff, internal struggle but nothing serious

a/n : finally... its here... sorry for this taking long, i was traveling for holidays and then classes started but its here! lmk what you guys think :3 this chapter is a lot chiller imo... just trying to set a Vibe of emotional conflict... ALSO im not trying to paint hyunjin as the bad guy.,.,, but i think its also important to show that people will form opinions no matter what and will inevitably pick a side. so yus...

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Tears cascaded down your warm cheeks as you tossed yourself in your bed, the frustration and anger you were holding back finally catching up to you as quiet sobs escaped your lips. You hated how horrible the feeling of pure anger, as it always felt you were on the verge of bursting at the seams from how violent and erratic the emotion was as it overran your body. You had no idea what to do with it, always allowing it to linger til it overwhelmed you to the point of tears and surrendered to its burning grip. Your phone began to vibrate, which your hand mindlessly reached over for and picked up without second thought, as you knew it would be no other than Chan calling you at such a moment.

“Y/N… Are you okay?” concern dripped from Chan’s voice, while all you could muster out was a muffled grumble as you stuffed your tear-stained face into your pillows. “Right,” he responds, acknowledging your groan, “Well, I heard what happened through Changbin, so I called to check in on you.”

You take a deep breath in to soothe your hoarse throat from your onslaught of tears, praying your voice wouldn’t be too shaky as you spoke, “Well, I’m upset.”

“I don’t blame you one bit, I’d be just as upset as you are,” he reassured you gently, “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you need some more time to figure your feelings out?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, turning your face away from the pillows so your voice was clearer, “I don’t know how to feel. It’s just a lot. It’s such a stupid reason for him to have just been so shitty to me for so long. He literally could’ve just asked me or talked to me about it instead of assuming.”

“Right, I agree. Even Changbin didn’t know about that being the reason,” added Chan, “I’m sure he lectured him on it because that is a crazy conclusion to jump to.”

“And I’m even more upset that was the conclusion he landed on! Why did he just assume I’d do something so terrible? Why did he not consider that I was trying to help him secure the role?”

“Sounds like he has an insecurity issue, if I had to guess, but who knows. You have every right to be upset, but there is another pressing matter we do need to address.”

You sigh, rolling onto your back as you use your free hand to rub your temples, “Yeah, I know. As upset as I am right now, I do still want to keep doing this project, but…”

“But…?”

“I don’t really… know if I can do that because I don’t wanna see his stupid face or go out on any other practice dates,” you huffed angrily, feeling a bit relieved to verbalize some of your feelings. 

“Well, I won’t force you to go on another date if you still need time to cool off, but maybe it will help you get used to seeing his stupid face after this. Plus, Changbin did tell me that you have permission to yell at Hyunjin if you wanna get that out the way.”

You let out a small chuckle, unsurprised to hear that Changbin said such a thing, “I’m not going to yell at him, but I appreciate the offer. I don’t know, I’m still really worked up from the whole thing.”

“Give yourself time, you can let me know in the morning how you’re feeling and we can go from there, okay?” Chan asks, the gentle tone of his voice bringing you a sense of comfort. 

“Okay, I’ll do that. Thanks Chan.”

“Of course, take care, Y/N.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The next morning rolled by rather quickly and while it would’ve been a lovely day to stay in bed, your stubbornness caused you to find yourself walking to your third date of the week. You were still terribly upset at Hyunjin and forgiveness was not in the cards at this point, yet you had other pressing matters that did not allow you to wallow up in hatred and resentment for him. You had to set your feelings aside for a moment in order to make some sort of progress on this current acting project, as you were way too excited for how the final product would turn out and truly believed in the success of the film.

Although, you didn’t have high hopes for today, as you expected it to be a similar outcome to your previous dates. Today’s day was Chan’s idea, which was attending a local farmer’s market in your area that provided all sorts of family-owned shops to look through, including a variety of food to choose from. It was a bit last minute, but Chan knew your love for these small events, so he hoped this would bring you some joy, but also give you the opportunity to wander off from Hyunjin if needed, while also giving you both the chance to talk about something. 

You were approaching the entrance to the park it was being hosted at, checking the time on your phone relieved to know you were on time. Honestly, while Hyunjin would probably be late once again, you didn’t mind the chance to enjoy bits of the market alone, especially on such a sunny day during these winter months. However, you were completely stunned to find Hyunjin waiting by the entrance as well, nonetheless waiting five minutes earlier than the time Chan had told you. He stood there awkwardly, both hands in the pockets of his coat as he bounced on the balls of his feet nervously, his eyes widening when his gaze finally lands on you.

You approach him with caution and a raised eyebrow, not completely believing the sight before you, “I didn’t expect you to be here so early,” you state curtly, trying your best to remain civil and cordial despite yesterday’s events.

“Well,” he stammered, his fingers jittering in his pockets, “I think I owe you an apology, and I thought showing up on time for once was one way to show that I am being genuine.”

“An apology?” you question, your ears not believing his words.

He sighs nervously, brushing a hand through his hair, “I have… realized I was entirely wrong about the situation, and I am truly sorry for that and for treating you so horribly the past two years we’ve known each other.” You wear an unconvinced expression, unsure what could’ve caused him to have a change of heart overnight, especially since he was just in deep denial the day before. He continues his statement after picking up on your apprehension, “I ended up reaching out to director Han about the situation and he… he told me how much you vouched for me when he spoke to you.”

You nod your head as you take in his words, “I see, well, I’m glad you’ve come to that realization and I accept your apology,” a hopeful look appears on his face, “But, I do need time before I can forgive you because the way you’ve treated me has really hurt me. And the fact that you thought I’d ever do that to you hurt me a lot too.”

His expression falters, but he offers an understanding smile, “I completely understand, I honestly do not even deserve your kindness right now, so thank you for being kind about this.”

You return his smile with a tightlipped one, still not entirely believing the sudden change in him, but you couldn’t lie, it did feel a bit nice to see him so timid and meek, and hearing an apology come from him did help loosen the knot of rage that laid dormant in your stomach. “Well,” you clear your throat awkwardly, trying to find a way to continue the day, “Do you want to head in?”

“Sure, lead the way,” he responds, his hands returning to his coat pockets as he anxiously trailed behind you. Eye bags hung on his face, indicating the restless night he had suffered due to the guilt he had been digesting since his phone call with the director. Hyunjin felt horrible after the revelation he had, feeling nothing but the heavy, deep seated weight of anxiety and guilt resting atop his chest. Even the sight of you made the feeling worse, facing the reality of how his actions have affected you all this time was a whole new hurdle he had to learn to conquer. The least he could do was try to be as kind as he could be from here on out, and brace himself for whatever angry slurry of curses you had for him, but how could Hyunjin forget? 

The volatile version of you he had become used to these past two years was not who you truly were, but something he provoked out of you through his incessant insults and stale attitude. In reality, you were an extremely kind and patient person outside of the context of your relationship with him, and your reaction to his apology was evidence of that. He couldn’t help it, he felt like such an idiot for thinking you, of all people, would have ever sabotaged an important role for him, and he only further deluded himself in that belief by pushing you to the point of petty toxicity. 

The best he could do was remain quiet as he followed your course through the various stalls, the shame only intensifying when he would witness your eyes widen with joy whenever you found an item that interested you, and how you even took the time to converse with each stall owner about their products. The genuinity in your nature was something he couldn’t believe he had denied for so long, disillusioned himself so far to have forgotten it. All for what? Because he couldn’t accept his own failures, or face the daunting insecurities about his talents that he held so closely to his heart? Perhaps it was your self-assuredness that caused a hint of jealousy to brew into this mess he had concocted today, your very confidence that struck a chord of envy within him. He didn’t quite understand what led him to act in such a manner, he could only guess why he was the way he was, but all he knew was that he owed you a lifetime of favors.

At the moment, he stood uncomfortably by your side as he watched you peruse through a few crocheted trinkets a stall had, afraid to disrupt the bits of peace you could’ve had with him tagging along. In all honesty, to an outsider, he probably looks like a child who got dragged along with his parents on a day out. You sigh as you place the trinket down, turning your head to catch his eyes darting around nervously, “Hyunjin,” you speak. He startles upon hearing his name, not expecting you to ever pay him any mind today. “I get this is awkward, but you can loosen up a bit. I don’t bite,” you chide with a hint of playfulness in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

He lets out a strained exhale, acknowledging your words, “You’re right, I just don’t want to make you feel weird or uncomfortable,” he confesses.

“Well, I think staying quiet doesn’t help that cause much, does it?” you ask rhetorically before adding on, “It’s okay. Have you seen anything you like from any of the stalls? I really like what this one has,” you muse, a gentle smile taking your features as you hold up a small crocheted keychain of a  jellyfish with a wobbly smile on it, “He’s kinda silly looking, I think I might take him home with me.”

Hyunjin lets out an airy chuckle, his shoulders relaxing a tad, “He definitely is funny looking,” he replies, “Ah, I don’t know. There’s so much here, this is my first time going to something like this.”

“Oh, this is your first time? You’ve never been to the farmer’s market ever?”

“Nope, never been, but this is nice. It’s a lot better than I imagined.”

“You’ve been missing out, I love going to these. I try to go every now and then whenever I’m free,” you took out your wallet, handing the vendor cash to pay for the keychain, “There’s always fun knick knacks here, and everyone is so sweet. You sure there’s nothing you wanna stop by before grabbing some food?”

His eyes scan the stalls surrounding you both, but you notice them lingering at a small jewelry stall that sold handcrafted rings, ones that definitely fit his aesthetic. “Come on,” you motion him to follow you to the stand, “Maybe you’ll see something you’ll like.” He follows behind you, still in a timorous manner, but you could see the way his eyes brighten once he realizes where you were dragging him off to. Although you were far from friends, it didn’t mean you weren’t aware of how particular he could be when it came to fashion, and you wanted him to at least get something out of today after suffering intense awkwardness. 

It was now your turn to watch Hyunjin look through the assortment of jewelry the owner had laid out and of course, he was gravitating towards the silver rings, each with their own intricate designs that demonstrated the amount of artistry and talent the owner held. He looks overwhelmed with the amount of choices before him, indecisive as he holds two different rings in his hands, modeling each to figure out which one he liked best. “Why not just get both of them?” you ask.

“Both?” he ponders on the suggestion, “I guess I could do that.”

“Or,” you start, picking up a ring that you thought would suit his taste, “get this one instead,” you hand him the ring, a knowing smile on your face.

His mouth fell in surprise at it, slipping it on his finger as his eyes marvelled, “Wow, this one is so nice,” he mumbles while now placing the two previous rings away, “How did you know I’d like this one?”

You shrug nonchalantly, turning away from him, “You know, we were friends once,?” you remind him, “Just get it, find me by the food stands once you pay for it.”

He stays in his place as he watches you walk away, once more left speechless by your kindness as he begins to wonder how you were able to treat him as such. The guilt that made its home in his stomach began to rumble, the bitter taste of it overpowering his sense as he comes to terms with just how wrong he was all this time, and how awful he had been to someone as gentle as you.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The day had come to an end, and surprisingly the latter half went better than either of you could have expected. In a way, it was like time hadn’t passed as you both chatted effortlessly over food from whatever food truck caught each of your attentions. You both caught up on what you missed in each other’s lives during your heated rivalry, and somehow, every part of the conversation felt natural, nothing felt out of place and it was almost as if the past two years didn’t exist.

It was incredibly unsettling for you, and you started to feel a bit conflicted on where your anger lied with the boy as the time you spent softened your heart. Although, you knew you couldn’t allow him back into your life that easily, as his behavior deserves some sort of consequences, so you decided you couldn’t allow yourself to surrender that easily. Not all because you found yourself missing the friendship you once had with him, that wasn’t a good enough reason to overlook his actions. You cursed yourself silently as you arrived home, yet there was a small voice in the back of your mind that tried to convince you that perhaps it was best to let this happen in the name of the acting project you were both on. 

No, no, you remind yourself, he definitely doesn’t deserve your forgiveness or trust that easily.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon @lestayzone @vixensss @cupidcures taglist cut off at 20 people :)

[yongbokkk]

by the waters, part 1

pairings: lee know x m!reader

genre: fluff, mermaid au

a/n: hi im back i think... my apologies

stray kids had been waiting forever for their vacation, so they decided to spend all their peaceful time on an island. not many people were touring and the water was still fresher than ever. not to mention, the nature here looked amazing.

the eight of them have already gone to their chosen rooms, beginning to unpack. minho went to the balcony to stare at the scenery, the ocean waves crashing into each other as the water sparkled.

jisung came up to him, "yah, i bet you there's a mermaid out there." he leaned on the glass fence, joining minho.

"mermaids? you're crazy." minho shook his head.

"can't be always wrong." the younger one lightly gasped, "how about you drown, and then a mermaid would come and save you!" he teased.

"you want me to die or something? it's so unlikely they exist, it's just a fairy tale." minho kept denying.

"hmm, okay, believe whatever you want ~" jisung waved him goodbye and went back inside the house.

the older sighed, before heading back in since it was getting late.

it was the morning, and minho went out for a long stroll outside on the island. the breeze was cold but very refreshing. this island was such a good pick for them.

the brunette found two stray cats, which was weird for them to be here. nonetheless, he fed and played with them for almost an hour.

it was a struggle for him to not scoop the kittens up and adopt them, he felt bad he had to leave the two cuties. minho eventually got bored and decided to go fishing, not the best, but he liked to try.

minho went by the waters with a fishing rod, he tied the hook on with the fish bait and threw it into the water.

After a few minutes of waiting, there was a huge tug on the string. he must've caught a big one, he'll definitely tell this to the members.

but as he was pulling it up, streams of crimson blood were found at the surface of the water. did the fish bleed that much?

he was wrong, it wasn't a fish he had caught.

minho's eyes widened as he pulled up a bleeding man, with fishtails for legs.

jisung was right, mermen and mermaids were real.

minho panicked, watching the person hiss at the hook painfully attached to his skin. he couldn't just sit there in shock, he needed to do something.

he quickly unwrapped the scarf that was on his neck, rushing to the merman. minho carefully took the hook out and wrapped the scarf around the boy's bleeding arm.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry..." minho kept apologizing for hurting the person, but all the merman did was stare at the human.

finally, he took the time to look at the merman, and boy, he was the most beautiful thing minho's eyes ever laid down on.

"it's okay, you didn't mean it. right?" the merman was unsure whether to trust the human or not.

"never in my life will i hurt anyone intentionally." he finished tying the scarf around the arm securely, "..are you fine with getting medical help?" he looked around, trying to see if he could find anyone.

"no! don't let them discover me!" the merman sounded scared and nervous. minho understood and dropped calling for help.

"how are we gonna patch that up, then?" he questioned, pointing at the deep wound underneath the cloth.

"the water helps me heal, it'll take a while but you don't have to worry." the h/c put a reassuring smile, which the dancer found ethereal.

"ah, alright." minho was still shocked that he had witnessed a real-life merman, he thought it was all a fairy tale. "do you have a name?"

"y/n, what about yours?" y/n's mesmerizing eyes sparkled in minho's view.

"minho." he smiled, wanting this moment to last forever.

"...promise you won't tell anyone about me?" y/n practically begged, making a stern and serious face.

"of course, i wouldn't tell the world."

minho kept his word and never told anyone about the encounter. when they asked about the missing scarf, he made the excuse of accidentally leaving it somewhere.

jisung wasn't that convinced, he couldn't have just left the scarf somewhere.

"i don't believe you, bet you left it in someone's bedroom." jisung smirked suggestively, making minho scrunch in disgust.

"no, i'm telling the truth." he rolled his eyes, returning back to cooking for the members.

"have you seen a mermaid yet?" jisung asked, catching minho off guard as he made a cut in his fingers with the knife.

"ow!" minho hissed. "l-like i said, mermaids don't exist." he said, causing jisung to sigh loudly.

after eating a delicious meal, all eight of them went to their bedrooms for slumber, except for minho.

his mind was stuck on a certain merman from earlier, he still couldn't believe there were actually living mer-creatures, and that he was lucky enough to meet one.

that next day, minho told the members that he'd be going for another walk again. they didn't care much but to wish him safe.

well, his heart had other intentions. he found himself sitting on the tough but comfortable rock, staring off at the far sea, waiting for y/n's arrival.

since it was unplanned, it was very unlikely for him to show up. so why did minho feel the need to come by?

he waited, and waited, to the point where the said 'walk' he told the other members was now considered a lie. minho slightly had his hopes up for the beautiful creature to pop up.

seeing as it has been almost an hour, he was bound to give up. minho stood up from his seat on the rock, but before he could turn away, the water sparkled.

he was there.

[tul1ps1]

skin (AU)

angst! satoru gojo x y/n

mentions of! self harm, break up, smut, mentally unstable reader, cheating (possibly more)

🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀 🥀

satoru thrusted roughly inside of you, he had you pinned down hard onto the bed, not allowing you to move. causing you to scream and moan in discomfort. but something felt off. he wasn’t spilling sweet nothings into your ear like usual. instead all that came out his mouth were a few grunts here and there. and he was being oddly rough, not in a kinky way, in a way he was hurting you. sex is supposed to be making love to your partner, but there was no love going on here. it seemed like you were being used as nothing but pure stress relief right now. “fuck.” he murmured once he came inside you. satoru wasted no time in pulling out and getting dressed. what was going on? he silently put on his clothes with a cold look on his face. the blue ocean eyes you once knew, quickly became lifeless grey ones. who was this man that stood before you? breaking the silence he finally spoke, “y/n.” the room was quiet and dark. you could only see satoru through the gleaming moonlight. slowly sitting up, covering your exposed body with the sheets, your voice choked, “baby, whats wrong?” never in your entire relationship with satoru have you felt the need to cover your nude body around him. he made you feel so beautiful, so loved. but now only insecurity came over you. the look in his eyes now had no love, they almost looked shameful. like he felt ashamed for fucking you right now.

silence. satoru had now put on his shoes, clearly he was leaving. “lets end things y/n.” hearing those words come out of his mouth shattered your heart into a million pieces. why? how could he leave you like this? after everything you two have been through? after mentally and physically healing you? how selfish could he be? anger, confusion, and sadness came over your body. “don’t do this, please satoru.” you trembled, however managed to swallow the tears. you wouldn’t cry infront of him, not now. he leaned closer to you and cupped your face with one hand, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “i have feelings for someone else. im sorry. i didn’t want it to end this way.” with that being said he grabbed his things and left, leaving you with so many questions and thoughts. tears came rushing out of your eyes. tears turned into sobs, and sobs turned into wails. your mind suddenly went to a dark place it used to be in. you turned your attention to the cabinet drawer next to your bed. there it was. your body froze before picking it up. you winced and clenched your hand as the razor sliced your wrist. you watched as the blood dripped down onto the white bedsheets leaving a puddle of blood. oh how you missed this. the comfort it brought. the physical pain washed over you, pushing the mental pain away. the more the razor cut your skin, the more relief you felt. but you knew the feeling was only temporary. just like satoru’s love for you.

hours has passed and you stayed in bed. you were still naked, havent moved a inch. after crying so much, you felt somewhat numb, but tears kept streaming. the pain from your wrists still stung, the cuts were pretty deep. however you didnt even bother to clean up the mess so the bloody razor remained as well as the blood on your skin. satoru gojo offically had blood on his hands.

authors note! to the people who read this, should i keep going with the story? and i wanted to mention if there are any errors im sorry, english isn’t my first language :) ! i apologize for the overuse of the pronouns such as he, him, you, etc. i really wanted to show the readers pov. i hope you guys like this as much as i enjoyed writing it, much love <3

[leehaner]

Talk: Chapter 1

pairing: leehan taesan x fem!reader

genre: ANGST, love triangle, slowburn, eventual smut, fuckboy!leehan, college au, undecided ending + genre tbh im lit writing this on a whim bffs

word count: 2k

summary: find out

warnings: none for this chapter!

“Please tell me this is the last fucking box y/n” said your friend Jaehyun as he put down one of your many boxes of clothes for the semester.

He’d offered to help you move into your dorm at your newly transferred school, which he also attended.

“You maybe carried one box in here and it was the lightest one, if you were going to complain so much why'd you offer to help move me in? Sungho was going to come instead”, you said in between laughs and you’re sure he replied back with something equally as dramatic as what he’d said earlier but you were deep in thought thinking about whether or not you made the right choice to transfer here.

“Are you even listening to me?!” he says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? oh. Sorry….what’d you say?”

“ I saiiiiiiiiid that one of my friends is having a party near campus tonight and you’re coming. It’ll be good for you to meet new people other than me and Sungho. I’ll come get you and everything!”, he says, leaving almost no room for you to say no and pleading with his hands for you to say yes. It was always really hard for you to say no to him because he’d been one of your closest friends since high school and he always knew what was best for you before you even knew it, so, you agree under one condition.

“Okay whatever just don’t leave me alone at the party because I will leave so fucking fast”

“Then how else will you learn to make friends”

“not going”

“OKAY DAMN I won't leave you alone…. it’s not like sungho won’t be there anyway and i'll introduce you to our roommates'' he says while putting your clothes on hangers in annoyance.

Roommates. That word unexpectedly makes you nervous because up to this point you’d heard crazy stories about Jaehyuns experience with them and the thought of meeting people is always out of your comfort zone. You wouldn’t call yourself shy, but you’re more closed off than you’d like to admit.

“ I should probably also warn you ...one of our roommates, he’s kind of an asshole. So don’t take anything he does too seriously”

Ugh, you’re already dreading this.

“Okay”

And with that you and Jaehyun spend the next two hours or so fixing up your single dorm bickering and fooling around for most of those two hours but you finished nonetheless.

“okay see you later y/n and take your phone off dnd, you’re not getting out of going to this party tonight” he says walking out of your dorm gathering his phone and hoodie from your freshly made bed.

“wasn't planning on it!” you lied. you were definitely planning to shower then sleep and blame the no response to his texts on dnd.

“yeah OKAY, bye~!” the boy says, taking one final stride out of the door and letting it slam behind him which makes you roll your eyes.

After roughly 20 minutes of mindlessly scrolling on your phone you decide it’s time to shower and get ready for the party you were dreading with every fiber of your being.

8:36pm

It's now been an hour since you started getting ready and you were now checking your outfit in your mirror. You were a bit unsatisfied but not enough to change for what would now be the third time of the night. You were dressed rather provocatively but you didn’t care, it made you feel good.Your makeup was already done and now all that was left was to spray perfume and check your phone to see when Jaehyun would be coming to pick you up.

You remembered that he’d probably be bringing his roommates and you were happy to see Sungho as you hadn’t seen him in a while but it was intimidating to meet the rest of them. Still, you were able to, for the most part, shake that feeling off.

myung: hey im like a min away rapunzel let down ur hairrrrrr

you: need you to b normal so bad

myung: HURRY TF UP im downstairs

You walked out of your dorm room and sprinted to the nearest elevator pressing the buttons urgently and waiting for it to come up for a few seconds but it felt like a thousand years were going by so you thought maybe it’d be quicker to take the stairs and slowly started to turn around.

beep

The elevator doors open and someone grabs your arm and turns you around gently. you had an immediate reaction to take your arm back but in an ever-so gentle manner.

“you don’t have to take the stairs” a husky voice says to you

you looked up at him and scanned his features for what felt like years to you but was only for a split second. He had long brown hair and even browner eyes that looked like the entire galaxy was in them.He ran his fingers through his hair with the hand that had just turned you around and put his phone in his back pocket with his other hand.

“Do you always grab strangers into elevators?” you ask him.

he took a few steps forward in order to hold the elevator open on one side

“technically you’re not in the elevator yet but this is my first time, hopefully I was easy enough on you” he replies cheekily with a smirk forming on his face.

You were shocked at how he could just make something so regular into a sex metaphor but somehow it worked. Still you rolled your eyes at the comment, making an automatic assumption about what kind of guy this stranger is.

“and a thank you would be nice”

“thanks” you respond making your way inside the elevator purposely avoiding the side he was evidently holding open for you. You notice he looks down, poking the side of his inner cheek with his tongue and smiling. He steps back into the elevator and you both reach to press buttons. You went for floor one while he went for floor two.

“Got a ride waiting for you or something?” he asks with what sounds like genuine curiosity.

“yeah, are you gonna follow me and kill me?” just as you say this jokingly the elevator doors open once more.

“Just curious but that does sound enticing” he smiles and faces you as he walks backwards out of the elevator trying not to break eye contact with you once.

You smiled to yourself at the small interaction knowing you’d never see him again as he was probably just heading to a hookup judging by the fact floor two of your dorm building was girls only. But ,still, you couldn’t help but feel butterflies from the chemistry filled banter you’d just had with a random stranger even if he was about to go fuck some random. It felt good.

myung: btw. you may or may not have to sit on someone’s lap because my car is not that big SORRYSORRYSORRYSOORY

you: bro im going back upstairs

myung: NO c'mon they’re excited to meet you and sungho has gummies in the glove compartment.. 😁

you: ….bribing me is crazy

myung: it’s the only way i fear🤦🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️

myung: i see you coming down the stairs just walk straight then turn left a little and you’ll see my car

you follow his instructions and see his red car looking absolutely packed with men whom amongst them you only see one familiar face, Sungho.

“Y/N!!!!!!!! I haven’t seen you in forever, i missed you” the tall long haired boy says to you as his passenger side window is rolling down.

“ I missed you too” you gave him a warm smile. Jaehyun then steps out of the car and opens the back door for you revealing 3 boys, one with pink hair, another with short brown hair and the very last with long dark hair and a streak of blonde in the back of it. damn you thought, he’s attractive.

“ So from left to right this is Riwoo, Woonhak, Taesan and obviously you all know this is y/n” , Jaehyun says smiling and gesturing to everyone then you.

There was a sudden flow of nice to meet yous after that coming from all of you and they all seemed rather nice, you felt instantly welcomed by them especially Riwoo who you felt you’d grow close to quickly, he reminded you a lot of Jaehyun in a way you couldn’t exactly pinpoint but was there nonetheless.

“ Now that you’ve met …any of you want to sit on each other's lap so that y/n can sit?” Jaehyun says while scratching his head.

“ I don’t mind," Woonhak says, smiling and shrugging. You smile at his kind gesture and you and Jaehyun walk over to the other side of the car, he gets back into the driver's seat while you stand at the backdoor. Taesan opens the door, steps out and Woonhak follows suit, you assume he’d be sitting on Taesans lap in the middle. However as Taesan stepped out of the car you were shocked at how tall he was, he didn’t seem all that tall from the view you had of him at the start of this interaction but there he was, standing at probably six feet tall at least.

He very clearly checked you out from head to toe and smiled at you politely as he waited for Woonhak to step out of the car, it was like he was going to say something to you but he himself didn’t know what to say first. He then went to sit in the middle of the backseat shuffling into place and tapping his lap with both hands gesturing for Woonhak to sit there.

“Don’t ever do that again” Woonhak says laughing which also makes you and Taesan laugh and you then take a seat next to them and finally close the car door. You all then take off to the party.

On your ride there everyone was mostly on their phones or having small conversations over the somewhat loud music Sungho had on aux. You were looking out of your window and could see Taesan from your peripheral vision occasionally doing the same. Whenever he wasn’t looking out of the window he was staring at you, it felt like he was piercing through your skin with his eyes and maybe that feeling rooted from the fact you wished you could look at him back in that moment but then he’d know you could see him looking at you that whole time.

“Nah man don’t worry about it, he'll probably just be at the party later anyway”,Jaehyun says. You were curious who he was referring to as you overheard bits of his and Sunghos' conversation.

“ I don’t get why he didn’t just come with us” Sungho responds.

“don’t think too much about it seriously , he's always weird like that”, Jaehyun reassures him and with that the conversation ends leaving you wondering who they were just talking about.Ignoring your curiosity you put one of your earbuds in so you could listen to music for a bit.

now playing: the smiths - there is a light that never goes out

“I love the *muffled speech*

“What?”, you take off your singular earbud to ask what Taesan had just said to you

“I said I love the smiths”, he says to you with a smile that was so contagious, you smiled without even noticing.

“Do you want to listen with me?” you ask sweetly, to which he nods. you hand him the other earbud and you listen to music the rest of the car ride there.

you couldn’t help but feel butterflies from how he’d somehow get a brand new smile for each song that played or tapped his foot along to the sound, signaling that he liked your taste in music.

He’s so endearing you thought.

[edenalieth]

Tricked pt.2

Pairing: pixy!hyunjin x afab! reader — read part.1

Genre: faery!au, based on « the cruel prince » universe, smut, slight angst

Warnings: he’s still short tempered his dad is too, unprotected sex (they're fairies, they struggle to have kids and are immortals, you're not), oral m!receiving, fingering f!receiving, orgasm denial, bit rough/jealousy, y'all are a bit tipsy

Summary: At first, he thought he was hallucinating but he could recognize your delicate gestures, the plump of your lips, your hand engulfed by the stranger’s one and the way his free hand was sneakily brushing over your butt. Who was this asshole ? Rage setting his blood on fire, he couldn’t stop staring at you, making him stumble over his partner's feet. He apologized to the lady he was dancing with and headed towards you. Little did he know that you were waiting for this reaction. 

Words: 4.7K 

A.N: hi, it's cami! im back with the second part of this faery au. it's actually a first for me to write a sequel, i recently read the stolen heir so it helped going back into this universe haha. sorry for the eventual mistakes, i hope you will like it ♡ — 231206

His shirt was barely buttoned up, his hair untied and soaked after swimming with you on the lake and he unconsciously hummed a song on his way back to the manor. He felt delighted by the time you had spent together. Of course, he wasn’t forgiving you for the way you had played with his feelings, the way you made a fool out of him but he would let you go with it, for now. And, after all, it was your secret. Just like the place where you had sealed your passion to. He shivered thinking about how your hands touched him, how your soft lips crashed on his. He let his fingers brush against his lips, his steps guiding him towards the white rocky structure he called his dwelling. 

When the heavy wooden door opened at his arrival he heard his name being announced by the guards and some servants rushing towards him. 

« My lord, what happened to your clothes ? Please, you should wear some shoes and get dressed properly. » urged an old woman called Mona. She used to be his nanny and was always making sure things were perfect for him. Since he grew up, he was seeing her less and less as she was busy directing other attendants. However, she always showed up during important times. Today was no exception. 

Hyunjin raised a brow looking at the fae. He checked his white shirt. There was some green stains here and there because of your little fight. His feet were dirty after walking in the woods. Fine but what now ? Were the guests still here ? Even so, he didn’t care. The high society had seen him in a far worst shape than just being underdressed. And, after all, even a cruel and perverted man like Cardan had been able to access the throne. People would not be shocked for so little. 

The woman clapped twice and domestic servants swarmed over him, dusting his shoulders and feet, handing him a clean doublet and boots. He rejected them, annoyed by all this fuss. « Could you at least tell me why I should do this ? I would like to retire to my apartments. » the black haired pixy grumbled, his tone iron cold, looking at them with no mercy. The old fae sighed, not impressed by his temper. « Your father is waiting for you in his office. » 

His shoulders got tensed and he clenched his fists, the muscle of his jaw suddenly prominent. He pulled the clothes off the hands of a brownie, while an other one was helping him to put his boots on. Once ready, he headed towards the office. 

As usual, his steps were echoing on the empty corridors. In the fading daylight, the last rays of sunshine were illuminating the walls of different shades of blue, making the shadows dance. He stopped at the doorframe, took a deep breath and knocked.

« Come. » his father’s low voice seemed calm, too calm. 

Hyunjin entered the room. He bowed and said « Father. Mona told me you wanted to see me. » 

The place wasn’t really big and quite off-centered from the crowded rooms of the manor. Mountains of books were surrounding the huge oak desk, skillfully engraved with pixies and ivy. The young man was about to sit on one of the armchair facing it but his father stopped him, raising his hand as a gesture for him to wait. « No need, I won’t be too long. »

Hyunjin had difficulties to stay focused and he was trying with all his might to not let his wings buzz. His father was writing on some papers, not even bothering to look at his son. When he finished, he sealed it with blue wax, stamping the coat of arms of their family using his signet ring. Hyunjin had a similar one on his left index. « Today was your last tantrum. » his parent stated. 

The boy scoffed, tapping his feet on the floor. « A tantrum ? Maybe it would not have happened if this incompetent » and he insisted on that word, gritting his teeth « was doing his job properly. He humiliated me in front of the guests. » 

His dad stood up, overlooking his son. « No! You did that yourself and a multiple times! » he seethed. Hyunjin could feel his body getting hot from all the rage he was holding back. Controlling his wings was now a wasted effort and it didn’t go unnoticed. The older man looked at him with disdain. « Look at you. You’re dressed like a peasant and can’t even discipline your emotions. You almost hurt a domestic today, you put on a show during our dinner with the duke and your reputation is well known in Insmire. » he paused, analyzing Hyunjin’s reaction to the statement. He continued. « Get ahold of yourself or I will have to interfere myself. » he threatened. The pixy was fulminating. « I dare you to try. » he spit, his body few inches from his father’s. Not getting the time to react, he felt a loud pain on his cheekbone. His mind went blank, something warm dripping along his face. 

His dad pulled out a tissue from his pocket and cleaned his ring. « A ball is going to be held in four days. This is your chance to show the true values of the Hwang family. Understood ? » Hyunjin didn’t answer. « I said, understood ? ». 

« Yes, father. » 

When Hyunjin came back to his room, he had the urge to break everything around him. He checked himself on the full length mirror, his cheek was red, with some hints of purple and dry blood on the cut. Despite his anger, he could tell this argument made him come back to his senses. He deserved to be respected and feared but he also needed to behave a bit more to reach that goal. Not to be the capricious heir and to be able to surpass his dad. First, he would try to control his emotions. Second, he would avoid people making it harder for him to reach his first goal and having a bad influence on him, such as you. He could tell his heart had soften the second he took interest in you. It started when you arrived at the court and exploded after your afternoon together. He would not meet you the next day, breaking his promise. Nor the other. He didn’t need a weakness. He didn’t need to like you. 

Servants were helping him to get ready. He was wearing an all white outfit. The tip of his boots was covered of dark silver and Mona attached a brooch made of sapphires as dark as the night sky. His cloak, also white, was covered of tiny diamonds looking like the morning dew. His former nanny handed him a mask made of tulle. It wasn’t totally covering his face, just enough to hide his bruise and eyes. He was playing with the ring on his index, adorned with his coat of arms. It represented several pair of pixy wings, intertwined with ivy forming a H. Hyunjin often played with it to relax or, at least, try to. He perfectly knew that you would be here tonight. It would probably be difficult to ignore you, he was scared of your reaction. However, it was a masked ball and maybe you would not recognize him in the crowd. He hoped so. 

Once ready, a knight came to escort him and his family to the castle where the ball was taking place. The great hall was beautifully decorated. Fresh flowers were dripping from the ceiling expertly mixing with the high chandeliers where small fireflies were trapped, diffusing a dim light. The tables were covered with food and drinks going from grilled fish accompanied with a lemony sauce, fae fruits and exotic ones, some mortal dishes and different types of wine. 

A small orchestra was playing and a lot of people were dancing dressed with their prettiest gowns or totally naked. Spotting some acquaintances, he followed his family, greetings several people. Trolls, mermaids, elves. He had to go through this if he wanted to get some freedom from his father’s constant monitoring. Which, after what felt like hours, he got. His mother was busy gossiping with court ladies and his father needed to discuss some serious topic with a duke. Hyunjin wasted no time and decided to join some of his friends he had noticed earlier and took a glass of green wine. The alcohol going down his throat burnt him but the taste of it was incredible. 

« Look who is joining us! What have you been up to ? You didn’t come to Xylia’s party this week. » immediately questioned a young sidhe named Jisung. Him and Hyunjin used to hate each other until the pixy helped him out of a really bad situation. Said situation implying his friend having an affair with a married woman. 

« I’ve been on thin ice with my father’s patience lately… Staying at the manor was my best option. » 

Jisung pouted not truly convinced and took a bite on a fae fruit, some of its golden dust slightly covering his mouth. « Better make up for last time then » he mischievously replied with a smirk, pouring another glass of wine to Hyunjin. The latest smiled and let himself go a little while said Xylia, a nymph who had been interested on the black haired man, came up to sit on his lap. 

« Hwang Hyunjin is finally honoring us of his presence! » she purred, sliding her arms around his shoulders. « Missed me ? » he arrogantly said. « Of course ». She chuckled, revealing pointy teeth, then proceeded to come closer to sensually bite his neck. Jisung laughed and looked at them avidly. It wasn’t the first time he was seeing them acting like this but it surely aroused him. Hyunjin used to love it, playing with Xylia, flirting with indecency, teasing his friend. He thought that giving in to his old demons would help him get you out of his mind but everything seemed bland. The nymph strong flowery scent was overwhelming, his mouth felt furred because of the wine and the sidhe’s reaction annoyed him. 

« Stop… » his voice was barely audible. The girl kept on going, sliding her hands along his torso. « I said stop. » he growled firmly, trapping the nymph’s wrist in his hand. His gaze was icy, giving cold sweat to Xylia. « What’s wrong with you ? » she was visibly offended. The pixy man rolled his eyes « I’m bored staying in your company ». He stood up and went towards the dancing crowd. He heard Jisung trying to convince him to stay and could feel the nymph’s angry eyes boring holes into his back. He didn’t care, now that the alcohol was doing its job he could only think about one thing: finding you. 

How came you didn’t cross his path yet ? Yes, all those masks and textile fluttering all around him were making him dizzy and harder for him to notice you. However, it couldn’t be impossible, right ? Unless you weren’t invited… Unthinkable. Your family was freshly part of the high society, they needed to shine among it to get the recognition from their pairs. Hyunjin let himself be drawn into a waltz, changing partners and spiraling according to his thoughts. Until his eyes finally landed on you. At first, he thought he was hallucinating but he could recognize your delicate gestures, the plump of your lips, your hand engulfed by the stranger’s one and the way his free hand was sneakily brushing over your butt. Who was this asshole ? 

Rage setting his blood on fire, he couldn’t stop staring at you, making him stumble over his partner's feet. He apologized to the lady he was dancing with and headed towards you. Little did he know that you were waiting for this reaction. 

You had noticed him rather quickly. How could you do otherwise, anyway ? He was shining like the purest gem among the nobles and courtiers. The tulle mask was doing nothing, you could tell right away that it was him by the way he elegantly walked, his dark blue wings, his pearl earring he seemed to never take off from his pointy ears. The second you saw him in the crowd, you almost ran to him, desperate to know why he never came back to the lake. However, you needed to find the right time for it because you weren’t going to be nice and you couldn’t tarnish your family's reputation. He seemed like a different person when it was only the both of you. You thought he had a soft spot for you. What an idiot you had been. You felt betrayed. Maybe it was his revenge for the little play you had pulled on him and it felt like getting a taste of your own medicine. Bitter. 

He had probably used you and would laugh about it with his friends. This feeling increased the moment you saw that beautiful creature devouring his neck and touching him lustfully. You clenched your fists at the sight of it and regretted not cutting his throat when you had the occasion. In the end, he was like any other fae, directed by his impulses. You went to the closest table and grabbed a drink. You coughed a little because of the high amount of alcohol. And this is how you joined the dancers, well decided not to cry over that mouth-of-nectar. He wanted to play that game ? Oh, you wouldn’t loose and seeing him almost crawling in your direction gave you some smugness. 

« Y/N. » he called out, trying to get your attention as you ignored him thoroughly. People were on his way and he started to push them away brutally — getting death glares — as you danced away from him, still in your lure’s arms. Even if his gaze was blurred by the light fabric covering it, you could tell the same anger was burning inside his eyes, the same one you had witnessed when he discovered the trickery you had played on him. Finally reaching the both of you, the pixy stopped, trying to keep his composure. « May I ? » he asked the man, showing his palm. « Can’t you see I’m… » your partner was about to protest until he saw who he was talking to. Hyunjin was giving him a beautiful grin but not a single cell of his body seemed welcoming. « Lord Hwang I… My apologies, the lady is yours. » he sheepishly said. The pixy looked at him leaving and his smile instantly faded once the man was out of sight. You rolled your eyes and tried to escape but he strongly grabbed your waist and pulled you close to him. 

« You suddenly remember me, Hwang Hyunjin ? » you scoffed, annoyed to not be able to detach your eyes from his. He intertwined his fingers with yours, making you twirl. You were stunning in that dress. It was visibly made of a pearly shaded silk where actual pearls delicately dangled on your chest and arms, like rain drops. A similar mask was adorning your face. It gave you a strong aura and suited the hint of purple in your eyes. « Why are you doing this to me, half-blood ? » he whispered in your ear. Feeling his breath against your face gave you goosebumps. 

« D-doing what ? » 

Damn it! You couldn’t help but stuttered and he smirked. 

« Playing with my feelings all the time. » he replied. Oh wow! So, it was your fault. 

« I’m the one playing ? You seemed to have a good time with that freshwater slut earlier. » you spat, unable to restrain your venom. He recoiled, surprised. 

« Are you talking about Xylia ? I actually pushed her away because I wanted her to be you. » he grumbled. You felt his nails digging into the tenderness of your waist, giving you a small ache. « And you think I’m going to believe you after you broke your promise. I bet you told all your friends how you made a fool out of me, letting me think I had won. »

Your words annoyed him and he frowned. This is what you thought and why you were doing all of this, trying to make him jealous and it worked. His wings started to tickle and his mouth was reduced to a thin line. 

« You truly think I’m a monster when you’re the one who started all of this. » he stated calmly. Surprised, you looked at him but you couldn’t say he was wrong… 

« What do you want from me Y/N ? » 

His intense gaze made you look away and you were glad the mask was hiding your cheekbones which were probably red. You weren’t going to say how much his loss hurt you, how addicted you had become after only one day together. You had too much ego for that. Gulping, you came closer to his ear and murmured, « Prove me I’m wrong, prove that you sincerely desire me. »

He put a halt to your dance, weighing the pros and cons of your demand. Accepting would go against his resolutions, yet, it couldn’t let you insult him without giving you a lesson. « Your wish is my command. » he replied with a sly smile. 

Cutting through the crowd, he guided you upstairs. You weren’t surprised to see some wasted people laying on the floor or hearing laughs coming from other rooms. What surprised you is how easily he found the entry of a boudoir room. Must not have been his first time coming here which made your body get tensed. 

It was small and pretty. The furnitures were scanty. An alcove full of fluffy pillows and beautifully crafted blankets overhung by a large window offering a night view of the garden. A meridian couch and a coffee table, few decorations. You removed your mask, wanting to face him correctly. You looked even more gorgeous and he could feel his body warming up. He carefully locked the door and walked towards you, trapping you against the edge of the alcove and himself. The sudden proximity made your core ache. You wanted to touch him badly but he was the one who had to prove something. After all, he accepted the challenge. 

« Well. Tell me Hyunjin, are we going to stay like that or are you actually going to do something ? » you teased. He scoffed, letting his hand run along your thigh and going up your breast to grasp the dangling pearls. He played with it, looking at the light reflecting on it. Your breathe was faint, anticipating. Not bothering to lift his head up, he spoke 

« I will make you mine, Y/N. You will be my thing, my doll and you will never dare to flirt with some idiots ever again. » You frowned. His thing ? You would never let that happen. 

« You’re all blabbering but you dont act much and, most importantly, you don’t own me. » 

What you thought would be a nice time was turning into an upsetting one. This was ridiculous and, despite your aroused state, you needed to leave. Obviously, the young pixy didn’t let you go, pulling hard on the pearls and making the threads holding them break as they fell on the ground. 

« Really ? » 

You couldn’t really tell what he was thinking because of the tulle and you wanted him to get rid of it. Before you could complain about it, he grabbed your butt and made you sit on the alcove. Adroitly, he left your dress up so that your bottom was fully exposed. « I’m sure of… » you couldn’t finish your sentence, feeling his thin fingers sliding down your folds. You gripped his shoulders and moaned on his neck. He removed his hand, looking at your glimmering arousal and said with a husky voice « Seems like your pussy is telling me otherwise. »

You felt tears forming in your eyes. Why your body had to betray you like this ? You bit your lip, sulking. However, Hyunjin didn’t plan to give you any rest. 

« You wanted to know how much I desire you, uh ? » he growled, leaving incandescent kisses on your jaw and neck. You hummed, too concentrated on his touch. 

« Speak. » he ordered. 

« Yes. » 

A smirk appeared on his face as he closed the gap between the two of you. You sighed in relief, finally feeling his lips on yours, it tasted like green wine. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your core meeting the fabric of his pants where you could feel is hard-on. He grabbed the back of your hair, making your head fall backward. He missed your scent, the softness of your skin and he absolutely wanted to ruin you. 

You tried to find some friction but he was holding you back strongly. The tip of his nose brushed against the crook of your neck when you felt his warm and wet tongue tracing lines on it. « Hyunjin, please… »

As an answer, he harshly sucked on your skin. The pain made a small cry escape your mouth. Fuck. He was bolder than the first time, getting comfortable around you. You heard a pop when he let your sensitive take some rest. 

« Satisfied ? » he asked. Oh, he had to be joking right now. 

« Not at all. » you answered, sulking. His laugh revealed his teeth, making him low-key predatory. 

« Always greedy. » he sighed. His fingers caressed the pulsing point of your neck, travelling down to the valley of your breast to finally reach where you needed him the most. He cupped your sex, making you mewl. « This belongs to me. » 

You wanted to protest but the pressure he was applying on your clit was driving you crazy, his thumb forming small eight figures on it. 

« Say it. » You resisted, shutting your eyes and digging your nails into his shoulders. Loosing his patience, he inserted a first digit inside you. You moaned his name loudly and Hyunjin had to take deep breaths not to fuck you raw.

« I-it’s yours. » you panted. 

He dipped another finger inside your dripping pussy. « Again. » 

« It’s yours, I’m yours. » you chocked when you felt his digits curling. 

« See. It wasn’t that difficult to admit it. » he mocked, his lips crashing against yours. You bit on his lower lip, making him grunt, soon met by an iron taste. The black haired man lightly jumped, his wings quivering. 

« Behave. » he whispered. « I’m sorry… I got carried away. » you immediately apologized, afraid that he would stop. Unfortunately, what you feared inevitably happened. After few more pumps, he could notice how lightheaded you were, how your walls were getting tighter. However, he didn’t want you to come around his fingers. You whined. 

« Keep going, please. I was so close. »

« I know. » he sighed. « But it’s my turn now. » He stepped back a little, putting you back on your feet as he was taking your place and unzipping his pants. He looked sinfully handsome. Totally absorbed by the view, you didn’t notice how he made you kneel down before him. His length was right in front of your eyes, precum glittering on its top. You licked your lips. « Suck on it. » 

Another order you gladly complied to. Him towering you like this, in all his glory, was another type of turn on. You delicately seized his dick before giving him some kitten licks. He let out a loud moan, his hands gripping the edge of the alcove, his knuckles turning white. 

« Stop playing. » he huffed. Searching for his gaze, you seductively put his member into your mouth, your lips perfectly fitting around it. Damn it. He would never be able to avoid you after seeing you like that. The sensation of your tongue twirling around his shaft, the delicious pressure every time you sucked on him. Gripping your hair he gave you light thrusts, until he couldn't stop his increasing pace, the tip of dick repeatedly hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. Tears formed on the corner of your eyes and your jaw started to ache so you had to make him stop. Both out-of-breath, he helped you to stand up, your legs being sore from the kneeling position.

« You did amazing, sugar. But don't you think it would be too bad for me not to come inside you ? » he mused, cupping your chin.

« I want you all. » you whined, already lifting your gown up. It made him chuckle, his eyes turning into crescent moons. Wanting to be more comfortable, he finally removed his cloak and mask. You never thought it would make such a big difference but everything seemed more intense now. You could perfectly admire his features, his dark eyes, the mole under his left one. Something was new, though. You carefully approached your hand from the bruise on his face. You frowned and asked « What happened ? ».

He had totally forgotten about it. He put your hand down and made you turn around. « Nothing much, now bend over. » You started to ask more questions but got easily distracted when he unlaced your dress, letting it slip on your naked body. You felt the palm of his left hand applying pressure on your bare back so that your torso was totally flat against the pillows and blankets of the alcove. He cupped your butt cheeks, slightly spreading them to look at your dripping core. You couldn't see what he was doing, only hearing some wet sounds. Hyunjin pumped himself hastily and, without any warning, penetrated you. You being soaking wet helped him a little but you were so tight that it was difficult for him to put his whole length inside. Gripping your waist firmly, he started with light thrusts, growling with any frictions.

The stretch was a bit painful at first, still, you quickly got accustomed to it, your butt trying to meet his hips and loving how he manhandled you. Seeing you so desperate to feel his dick made him salivate. He could see the side of your face as you bit on your lips, trying to muffle your noisy whimpers. You looked so fucked up and gorgeous at the same time. Inch by inch, he finally buried the totality of his shaft inside you, immediately hitting your sweet spot. « Fuck... Y/N... » one thrust, « I told you... » two... « You are meant to be mine. » His pace was increasing as you nodded, unable to create a proper sentence, your hips continuously hitting against the wooden edge of the alcove. The mixed pain and pleasure made you press your legs together, which didn't go unnoticed. Growling louder, Hyunjin bent over you to get a new angle, his thrusts becoming sloppy and slower. You felt one of his hand sliding down your heat to work on your clit.

« Hyunjin... » you mewl on his touch.

Surrounded by your scent and moans, he wasn't sure if he would be able to handle it much longer, going feral as he fed your eager cunt.

« You feel so good. Even better than last time » he praised, probably because this time he was the one dominating. This statement sent electricity down your spine, your walls clenching dangerously.

« Hyunie, I'm really close... » you cried, your voice barely above a whisper. « Hold on for me, half-blood. » the pixy commanded. You simply nodded and grabbed the blankets under you. You couldn't think straight anymore. You were fighting against the threatening wave of pleasure increasing with each powerful thrust, each change of pace. He was doing you good, too good for your own sanity. You could feel his weight on top of you, his arms caging your torso, leaving faint bruises. Wet sounds were echoing in the small room, sounds of your sweaty bodies rubbing against each other, sounds of sinful sex. His breath was becoming hectic and heavier, your walls so warm and narrow that he felt sucked in.

« Fuck ! » shaking over you, he relieved his seeds inside you, coating your core white. The euphoric wave wouldn't stop as he kept feeding his high, throbbing inside you and spiraling into delicious bliss. Unable to hold back anymore, you were on the very edge of your climax when you felt him pulling out. Stunned, you were left clenching around nothing, your core aching.

« W-what ? » you asked, confused. You fell on the floor, too weak to stand up properly. Hyunjin was already dressing himself up, styling his hair and tying his cloak. Once ready, he took his mask and crouched down to meet your eyes. A smirk was adorning his face.

« Consider this a payback for last time. » he said with his husky voice, preparing to get up « Oh! Before I leave, don't forget that I better not catch you in the arms of someone else than me. » he was towering you, looking down on you and your submissive position. He caressed your cheeks as anger was suddenly knocking your brain, your brows furrowed and eyes darkening. Without a word he turned around and left the room. He put his mask back on, satisfied as he heard his steps and your raging scream echoing on the corridor.

[suengmi]

ot8 skz prompt!

you cry when they barely raised their voice at you (but not in a too angsty way, they were just playing around w you) and they comfort you

also HAPPY LATE BDAY 🎉 (im gonna rob you for all ur seungmin and jisung pcs)

hehe thank you anon!! i went to see moulin rouge live and just had a kpop trade day/night with my bestie i was like "i'll swap u any of these two lee knows... for that mingi"

BUT YOU CAN'T HAVE MY SEUNGMIN ONES I'LL FIGHT YOU BARK i got like 26 different seungmin ones with 11 doubles... it's not enough, funnily bangchan is actually my ult in skz alkjsdlaksjd leave me alone seungmin got me WHIPPED

ANYWAYS!! warnings under the cut, i added pics for comedic effect. idk why my writing always goes humour, anyways i worked v hard on this!! and as always,i messed around with the prompt a did a few hurt!skz/you raising your voice at them hehe enjoy!!!

in alphabetical order

all non idol!au, all gn!, as always kinda proofread and lapslock

you're laying on the couch, nose stuffy and filled with tissues. you were always sensitive when you were sick, your head feeling like it's spinning and your body betraying you anytime you tried to stand up. chan was always a caregiver, he loved taking care of the people he adored. not one day went by where he didn't ask if you needed help or needed anything, you could always reassure him that his presence was enough, much to his scoffing.

☆⌒ヽ bangchan

warnings/other: living together, established relationship

you needed help to go to the shower, the steam would probably help. plus, you hadn't showered in two days due to how sick you were.

"babe?" you called out, voice weak.

"baabe?" you squeaked once again, trying to lift yourself from the couch. "baaaaabe?" and nothing, but you can hear him tip toeing around somewhere, the clunking sound of a bottle hitting the bathroom floor.

"babe!" you half yell, still trying to push your self from the couch.

chan rounds the corner, eyes frowning as he taps on the side of his headphone, "what?!" he screams at you, eyes scrunching and brows furrowed.

you burst into tears, suddenly feeling like you're in trouble for wanting help. "i'm sorry, i didn't know you were busy." you can barely speak, voice raspy and quiet.

"what?" he speaks again, pulling his headphones to rest on the back of his neck. this time his voice more gentle. he sees the tears forming in your eyes and immediately comes to your side. "what's wrong?"

"don't yell at me." you say through tears, hands coming to rub your eyes.

"shit," he curses, rubbing the sides of your arms, "sorry, i had my head phones on, i was running you a bath."

"oh," you sob, still letting yourself cry your hands dropping to your lap, "i thought you were angry at me."

"oh my god," he says pushing your messy hair out of your eyes while wiping the last of your tears. he sighs, "i just couldn't hear you silly."

"i've run you a bath, do you wanna have one together?" he stops and gives you a sniff, "you need one."

you frown, using the last of your strength to push him away, but it fails. "yes please..."

--

you're balls deep in your game, you've never been so focused on a game in your life. it's the final battle fight of the last of us 2, you wipe away tears at the scene before you folding out, feeling conflicted as the characters fight in the water.

☆⌒ヽ felix

warnings/other: living together, established relationship, cussing

"ahh!" you yell a bit too loud as you feels more tears form, "this is fucked up, fuck you both, fuck off this is so unfair."

"what did you say to me?" felix says, turning from his pc to look at you. "did you just tell me to fuck off?"

"what?" you turn to felix, eyes back darting back to the screen for a moment, still in the middle of the battle.

"what the hell? why did you tell me to fuck off?" felix says as he scrunches his nose, clearly upset and confused. "what the fuck?"

"no! oh my god, no." you scrambled to pause the game, getting to your feet to stand by felix, "no, no, i was talking to the game!"

"you lyin'?"

you roll your eyes, "why would i say that to you? ellie is fighting abby, and i'm telling them both to fuck off, not you!"

"oh," he says, pleasantly surprised, "valid then."

you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, he looks up at you still kinda upset. "baby, if i were to ever tell you to fuck off it'd be because you ate the last of the bread."

he smiles, eyes crinkling into moons, "oh that's true."

"you wanna watch?"

he scoffs, "god no, i already cried at that a month ago. hell no."

--

"get back here!" changbin screams, running across the field to catch you.

☆⌒ヽ changbin (LMAO THE PIC)

warnings/other: new relationship, play fighting

"no, no!" you yell back, a grin on your lips, you dart around the edge of the tree, seemingly hidden (well, you think at least.)

dating changbin had been a whirlwind, he was kind, funny, silly in the best ways and so cared for you like no one had. it had only been a month, but you were so damn in love with him, even though you were still getting to know him. everyday you were excited to find out more about him, it was never enough.

there's a silence in the air, your eyes dart around the edge of the tree. after a moment or two, a voice screams suddenly, "got you!"

"ah!" you scream, feeling hands aggressively wrap themselves around your waist. you had always been a scaredy-cat, any loud sound would startle you and send you into a frightened mess.

"all mine!" he said as he pulled you to the ground, arms still wrapped around your waist.

you feel trapped, his large arms wrapping around you. you can feel the anxiety in your chest, flight taking it's hold over freeze.

"changbin! that really scared me!" you cry out, but he's relentless.

"too bad, i win!" he chuckles loudly, pushing you to lay on your back, his muscles bulging as he pins you there. he slowly loses his smile when he meets your upset scowl, mouth turned down at the sides.

"baby, no-" he says searching your face, "i'm so sorry, was that too much?"

"yes," you say in a low tone, wrapping your arms around his neck. "i get startled easily,"

"i didn't know, i'm sorry." he apologises again, lifting you up to deepen the hug. you melt into his frame, enjoying being engulfed by your boyfriend, though pocket sized, he seemed much bigger than you in moments like this.

this is your chance to get him back, you smile into his neck before pressing a sharp bite down on his collarbone.

"hey!"

--

usually, hyunjin was the patient one.

☆⌒ヽ hyunjin

warnings/other: living together, established relationship

he would always happy to wait for you when you were getting ready, always be okay with you needed to run back inside and pee because you would probably forget and always, he would always wait for you to tell him what you wanted or how you felt, never pushy once.

you were upset, getting fired from your job. it wasn't your fault, just the reality of the job market right now. 'no more funds.' they had said. you were floundering., wallowing in self pity (and rightfully so.)

when hyunjin arrives home, it's ten oclock at night. you're sitting on the couch, balled in a blanket. the lights are off, black smoke seeming to surround your nest of pillows, the only light on your face was from the tv.

"hey beautiful-" hyunjin says cheerily before being met with your tired eyes, black rings around the bottom. "what's wrong?

"nothing." you scoff, hiding more of yourself.

"babe-" he says softly, kicking his shoes off and dropping his bag. he comes to your side immediately, hands rubbing up and down your side. you say nothing, shifting away from his touch.

he sighs, "you wanna tell me what's wrong?" he seems tired.

"no." you say lowly, turning up the tv volume.

"are you... sure?"

you say nothing as you kick him with your foot, still wallowing and watching the tv.

"fine, be like that." he scowls, voice slightly raised as he shakes his head. he shuffles to the kitchen counter, gripping the soda left on the bench top. he takes a sip, looking back at you, clearly annoyed. "i'm not in the mood."

hyunjin was never one to raise his voice, never had he done that to you. he patience seemed to have be worn thin this time.

"no i didn't-" you sigh, trying to gather your words.

'i have bad days too you know, it's not just you."

you sit up, blanket falling down the back of you. he's right, he's always right. "that was not cool, i'm sorry."

you look over him with sad eyes. he's now leaning over the counter, hands digging into his scalp.

you get up from the couch, readjusting the blanket over yourself as you shuffle to his side. you bump your head into his shoulder, looking up at him with wide eyes. "i love you."

"i love you too," he sighs, leaning his head on yours.

you sit like that for a moment before he speaks. "i got fired."

"no way same."

you both look at each and laugh in disbelief, how on earth did this happen?

--

jeongin was so cute, so damn cute. he reminded you of how cute he was every time he did, well, basically anything. but sometimes, he was really secretive. you didn't know why, until you had come to his house the first time. you hadn't been together long, but you were over joyed when he invited you over for dinner.

☆⌒ヽ jeongin

warnings/other: fresh relationship, not smutty but heavy descriptions and mentions of hentai lmao, pg i guess

"bone app the teeth!" he chimed, placing down the bolognaise he had made. it looked and smelled delicious, and you loved the cute frog bowls he had put them in. it made him that much cuter.

"eee! it looks so yummy." you squealed, "wait gotta pee."

"okay, down the hall to the left" he said plopping himself down, proud of his masterpiece. he sat up, making sure to clarify. "oh not the second door, the first one!"

you didn't hear the last part as hurriedly made your way down the hall. you looked at two doors, two seemingly the same. 'i think he said the second?'

you open the door in a hurry, being met with a large pillow of an anime woman, giant boobs out and her legs parting in display. you just stand there in shock, taking in the sight before you.

"helloooo." you said curiously, stepping into the bedroom. on the light stand there was a figurine. her boobs were seemingly wet, the short skirt she had lifted up behind her, thong busting out. a few more adornments, mostly lewd plastered the room.

"babe?" he called out as he walked down the hall. his eyes met with your curious ones, a smirk slapped across your face.

"babe!" he yelled, pulling you back by your arms. "i said first door! why didn't you listen!?"

"ow!" you said in surprise, feeling a lump of guilt building in your throat. he had never yelled at you before and it scared you. "i'm sorry i didn't hear you."

he sighed shaking his head, "i told you not to go in my room!"

"stop yelling at me..." you mumbled, wincing away from him.

quickly he pulled you out of his room, accidentally slamming the door behind him, it made you jump.

"jeongin-" you started but the lump in your throat grow. "i just got the wrong door, don't yell at me."

you stood in silence for a moment before he spoke up, rubbing the back of his neck, an unsure grin on his face, "i just didn't want you to see yet, i'm sorry i yelled."

you turn back to him, eyes tracing his face. he'd been caught. "theeee hentai?" you smirked, standing on your tippy toes.

jeogin's face burnt red, ears tingling with embarrassment. he scrambled to say something, but nothing came out. just splutters of words.

you laugh, "do you seriously think i'd be upset about that?"

"i don't know..." he says under his breath, looking everywhere but you.

"hm," you ponder, finger on your chin, "i don't know how i'd look in a thong, i might not have the ass for it."

jeongin looks like he's going to burst, his expression surprised and embarrassed by your words.

you sigh, taking his hand in yours, "it's fine but don't ever yell at me again, okay?"

"okay..." he says looking to the ground, feeling stupidly sorry for his actions.

"besides," you begin, smiling at him, "maybe you'd look better in a skirt and thong."

--

"wake up!" is all you hear as you jolt upwards, your forehead sweaty and breath heavy coming from your chest.

☆⌒ヽ jisung

warnings/other: living together, established relationship, mentions of nightmares and knives (not bad i promise lol)

you had a nightmare, which didn't happen often. the dreams you usually had were just an information dump of your day mixed in with people you had thought about, but this felt real, the feeling of fright still tingling in your body.

you look over at jisung, his eyes sleepy but still looking at yours.

"hey, you okay?" he speaks, voice raspy.

"no!" you yelp, busting into tears, still feeling shaken by your nightmare. "you were following me, telling me you were going to kill me! why were you yelling?"

"what?" jisung says in a confused tone, hand coming to your shoulder to stable himself.

you shrug his hand off, "you were going to kill me, why would you do that?"

"what are you talking about?" he mumbles, sitting half upward.

"in my dream," you begin by taking a deep breath, "you were chasing me with a knife, it was so scary."

"i'm... sorry?" he says, still so confused, "i didn't mean to?"

"oh," you breath out, tears slowly stopping. "i still cant believe you'd do that. i'm... damn."

"i'm sorry i tried to kill you in your dream. it was wrong of me...?" he mumbles again, eyes trying to find sleep.

"yeah, yeah it was." you breathe out, "don't do that again."

"okay... i won't." he sleepily sighs, his body falling back to the pillow. "i can't believe... i did that, what a ...dog act from me. asshole."

"absolute dog act, you dick." you finish before you feel your body laying back, waiting for sleep to capture you.

"so wrong of me, i'm such an idiot." he mutters, his lips pressing against the pillow, already falling asleep.

--

you scoff, eyes slowly closing your tiredness overtaking you. "damn right."

aussie slang: dog act if you don't know lol

"c'mon, just let me see." you yell through the crack of his changing room, attention turning from your phone. "i'm sure it's fine."

☆⌒ヽ lee know

warnings/other: close friends who like each other, uh lee know half naked??? spicy lee know, play fighting

"it's not." he says from the change room. you can hear his sighs through the curtain, frustration in them whenever he tries on another piece.

"do you need help?" you start, sliding yourself to the other side of the bench in front of the changing room.

"no!" he fumbles, dropping another item.

you sigh, hand slipping to grab onto the curtain, "i'm coming in!"

"no-!"

you're instantly met with his crotch, boxers tight across his hips, and you can see that. yes, the outline of that. your brows raise, certainly surprised with the view in front of you. his boxers had the kittens on them, cute little kittens of all colours and a pink background. you loved it, you can't deny.

"uh..." you start, not knowing what to do. you'd liked lee know for a while, so you can't say you're entirely horrified. you slowly raise your eyes to his, confusion and annoyance on his face.

you just sit there, his eyes burning into yours, just both staring at each other before he pushes on your face, leading you to fall back off of the bench. "don't do that!"

"ack!" you fall back yelping back hitting the ground with a thud, "i'm sorry i just wanted to help!"

he raises his voice slightly, anger present in his tone, "yeah, well i'm fucking naked!"

you feel bad, you've pushed a boundary and you didn't even realise you had been edging on it. "i'm sorry." you choke out, feeling bad for invading his privacy. you were close but not that close, yet.

you just lay there, ashamed of yourself for what you did, not thinking about his boundaries. after a minute he comes out, you're still laying on the ground in defeat.

he purses his lips in anger as he grabs the side of your ear, wrenching it towards him.

"ah shit!" you screech, laughter behind your words, "i'm sorry! aha i'm sorry! stop it!"

"you done?" he says through his teeth, still pulling on your ear.

"haha yes! it tickles and hurts!" you giggle, mouthing ouch a few times. he gives you a final tug before he finally let's go of your ear.

you get to your feet, rubbing the side of your ear. you both walk in silence before he halts you, eyes glaring into your own.

"if you wanna see me naked just say so, at least i can put better boxers on."

it was your turn to go red in the face, but you smirk instead, hiding your face, "i like those ones."

"really?" he questions, pondering your words, but seems impatient in his tone. "i'll wear em for you this weekend then, you staying over or not?"

you nod hurriedly, instantly agreeing to his plans.

"aw," he stops, clearly enjoying your agreeance and the new realm of flirting with you, "cat got your tongue?

you smack him on the arm, "stop!"

--

"do these look good?" seungmin asks, raising the brown frames to his face. no, no they don't. they absoutely don't. you try to hold in a laugh, your hand coming to your mouth.

☆⌒ヽ seungmin lalsdjka that pic always gets me

warnings/other: established relationship, seungmin thinks he's funny

"umm... maybe?"

he sighs, raising them a bit. "how about now?"

"uh," you begin, trying to hold in your laugh, "sure?"

passive aggressively he throws them back on the rack, turning on his heel to walk to the next section. you follow behind him, you can sense he's getting frustrated trying to find the right sunglasses. his vision wasn't the best without his glasses, so he needed your help trying them on. no contacts in today.

"hmm," he ponders, picking up anther pair. they're so ugly, rectangle and frames way too dark. no one would suit them, that's probably why they're on sale.

"um... maybe?"

"you already said that!" he says, frustration in his voice. "if you're not going to help, just leave."

you feel kind of hurt at his tone, but continue to follow behind him. you can't help but feel the anxiety in your chest, he wanted your advice but never listened anyways so you thought it best to be quiet.

suddenly he turns to look at you, feeling the awkward tension he's created. he throws his hands in the air. "what?!"

"hey don't yell," you start, wincing a bit at his words, "i just don't think those suited you..."

he takes the sight of you in, realising he's upset you, "shit- i'm sorry baby, i'm just annoyed i can't find a good pair. this is so hard."

you grab his hands and bring them to your chest, your eyes looking up at him, "thank you for apologising, you don't gotta be so mean."

he bends down to press a kiss on your lips, it's gentle with apology laced in it. he takes in a sharp breath before leaning back, "okay, which ones?"

"circle, definitely."

he turns to face the other section, hand gently melding to yours. the pair he picks up are just as ugly as the others.

"no," you begin interrupting him. you let go of his hand and pick up a dark circle frame pair of simple sunglasses, "these one's."

"really?" he questions, brows raised.

"just try them."

he sighs, bringing the frames to sit on his ears. "yes or no?"

"oh definitely, these are the ones. you gotta trust me."

he pouts and rolls his eyes, "oookay."

--

a/n: i had so much fun writing this!!!! hope you enjoy!!!!

<33

[rrxnjun]

two people ;; mark lee

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader genre: wedding planner! mark, fiancé! jeno, strangers to lovers au | slice of life, slowburn, angst, hurt/comfort word count: 16.8k warnings: swearing, a break up a/n: i broke my own heart with this one. also, the blue monday series is finally over, after more than a year passing since i started it haha <3 sorry it took so long, but im happy to finally have a series that i managed to complete :) thank you for everyone that read the series, all of the fics are insanely special and to me and i hold them very dear to my heart. hope you like a painful hurt/comfort as our last stop!

synopsis: two people under bedsheets: one suffocating lover, one fool in a wedding gown. in other words, where you find the courage to get over your guilt and break free from your own promise, all becasue, in true irony, your wedding planner.

blue monday series | playlist

TWO PEOPLE UNDER BEDSHEETS, ONE SHIVERING WITH COLD FEET

You’re quite certain you’ve rethought your decision more times than you can count.

When your body hits the cold sheets of your bed, stumbling to your side of the mattress, you wonder if the heater broke again and you’re going to spend another night alone, shivering until the tiredness doesn’t make your thoughts turn off and your eyelids get heavy with sleep. Dressed in your usual pajamas and staring out of the window, watching the stars shyly glimmer, the moon kisses your cheeks in a solemn feeling of a weird nostalgia you can’t seem to shake off no matter how hard you try. The feeling is quite uncomfy. It makes your bones itch, it makes you wonder what is wrong and why you’re suddenly so deep in your thoughts, wondering about all the different paths you could’ve taken. You try to battle the feeling, but there’s no use– it’s too strong and you’re too weak; too tired to keep fighting.

A huff lands into your ear, a muffled sigh that makes you slightly open your eyes and still in your movements, wondering if you’ve woken him up. Feeling momentarily bad, you get ready to mumble a whispered apology for going to bed so late when you know that he has to wake up early for work tomorrow, acknowledging the fact that your arrival to bed always startles him and makes him wake up in the middle of the night, when a strong arm slings itself over your middle, engulfing you in a tight back-hug.

His body grows closer to you, shuffling himself to stick himself as close to your body as possible, a heavy breath reaching your ear. Your hand automatically reaches for his one laying on your stomach, looking over at him to see his eyes still closed, noticing his breathing being steady. You haven’t woken him up, you sigh in relief, eyes traveling along his face for some time, studying his features as if this was the first time he’s so close to you. 

His eyelashes kiss his cheekbones, sharp edges of his face making him perhaps one of the most handsome people you’ve ever seen. You remember all the girls in university being jealous of you, for you’ve managed to catch Lee Jeno– the Lee Jeno everyone had been pining over ever since before you enrolled, feeling pride for how long your relationship has lasted. The shape of his lips is now a familiar sight to you– you bet you could recognise his mouth even with your eyes closed, knowing his warmth and his mannerisms while kissing you by heart now, for it’s happened more times than you can count; more times than you can remember. 

Looking back over to the window, eyes briefly catching the time glimmering on the alarm clock sitting on your bedside table, you bite down on your lips and try to battle the weird feeling starting to dangerously spread across your insides again. His body pressing itself into your back is warm, trying hard to provide you with a sense of home and safety.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you fight the sigh that desires to come out of your chest.

Shimmering in the cold– because your body doesn’t let you absorb the hotness of his love anymore– you nervously play with the silver on your ring finger, twirling it around and feeling for the little pedant in the middle.

Almost like every other day, not being able to fall asleep, you’re quite certain you’ve rethought your decision more times than you can count.

Heels clicking on the shiny white floor, you walk through the narrow hall of the building in the very center of your hometown, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. As you near the service you’re supposed to visit today, your heart starts doing little tumbles and turns, your hands shaky as you think of the appointment right in front of you. Taking a deep breath in and out, you run your hand through your hair, trying to calm yourself down for the last time as you open the door and step inside of the room, telling yourself that there’s no turning back now and you’re in it for good.

The bell above the door rings, making you cautiously look around the room, noticing the whole store decorated in white and nude tones, plants and flowers potted everywhere across the spacious room. In the corner of the whole store, you see a little light wooden desk with three cushioned chairs, a desktop computer in the corner, various catalogs scattered across the surface with some more in a little white IKEA bookshelf right behind it all. 

Admiring everything, you almost don’t notice the man peeking his head out of the door on the right, a hesitant look playing with his features. 

“Good morning,” he says, bowing to you out of politeness.

Caught off-guard for no reason at all, you turn your lips into a tight-lipped smile, greeting him. “Good morning! I’m… uh… I’m supposed to have an appointment today,” you say, playing with your fingers as you clasp your hands together at your waist.

“Oh,” he nods, finally coming out of the room, furrowed eyebrows and all, “Ms… and Mr Lee?” he asks, confirming, earning himself a hurried nod.

“Yeah,” you say, “I’m- I’m Ms Lee to-be,” you clarify, licking your lips in nerves.

The man in front of you nods, ushering you towards the little station in the corner, leading you to the chair and inviting you to sit down. “And Mr Lee is…?”

“At work,” you mutter, putting your hair behind your ear, “he’s- he’s quite busy with work, usually, so he wasn’t able to come and I didn’t just want to cancel it, so I figured I can come alone, but- but he’ll be here the next time, I promise!” you hurriedly explain, suddenly feeling shy under the stranger’s gaze, not wanting to be judged by, who you assume is, your wedding planner.

His smile is gentle and reassuring, nodding as he stares into your eyes. “No worries! It’s okay, it’s just… unusual to come alone to a wedding planning, but I suppose we can work with only you today, then,” he says, his voice calm and sending shivers down your spine.

Clearing your throat, you take your eyes off the stranger in front of you, letting them travel all across the room, desiring to find something to put your attention towards. The whole situation feels weird and awkward. Who even comes to plan their wedding alone? It’s not like it’s only your wedding– there’s two of you that are getting married, and it’s only expected for you two to do it all together. And that’s how it was supposed to go anyway– the appointment at the wedding salon was scheduled a little over a few weeks ago, with Jeno reassuring you that he’s free that day; but when the day came and he told you he has work, you wanted to cancel it and come some other day. He refused, though, telling you that you can start on it alone and he’ll just compromise with you and follow what you’ve chosen.

It all feels like it’s supposed to be about you, but when your own wedding is the thing on line, it almost looks as if your own fiancé isn’t even interested in being a part of it. 

“My name is Mark Lee, by the way,” the man says after clearing his throat, catching your attention again and offering you his hand to shake, “I’m the person in charge of your wedding, it seems! I hope you find working with me on this important day fun and that we can arrange something you two have always dreamt of,” he smiles as you take his hand and shake it, noticing the warmness of his touch.

Mark Lee doesn’t seem like your typical wedding planner. The ones you see in the movies are almost always female, with long acrylic nails and blonde hair pinned up into a funky hair-do, with bright eyes and smile lines imprinted into their face. Mark Lee, on the other hand, is a male– which is unusual, to say the least– and he also seems nothing like the movies. He’s calm and gentle, although still excited to work with you on the day of your dreams, with a shy smile and honest eyes that are slightly covered by the fringe of his chocolate hair falling into them, making him look young and lively.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, “my name’s ______ ______,” you introduce yourself with your first and last name, not taking Jeno’s just yet and shuffling a little in your seat.

“Okay, so,” Mark says as he takes out a notepad and types in the password into the computer that’s sitting in the corner of the desk, “I suppose we can start brainstorming today? Maybe tell me your main ideas, what you want for the wedding and what you don’t, how you want it to be decorated, just- just the general idea, nothing too detailed. We can move further when your fiancé is here as well, to make sure your ideas align and stuff. Sounds okay?”

Humming in approval, you watch him click around for a bit, opening some documents, while also twirling his pen in his other hand, the movement of it through his fingers fascinating you. The steady motions of the blue plastic of the pen catch your eye and make you zone out for a few seconds, completely making you forget about the task at hand and clearing your head out.

“So, anything you have in mind?” Mark perks up your attention again, making you swiftly take your eyes off the pen in his hand and instead look into his eyes again, finding yourself having a hard time maintaining eye contact with his deep brown eyes.

“I- I…” you stumble over your words, trailing off as you get lost in your thoughts. Wondering what your ideal wedding should look like, you chew on your bottom lip and try to imagine the day playing out right in front of your eyes. Your imagination tends to be crazy and wild, completely vivid, but for some reason, in this moment, you can’t seem to see the scene materialize in front of your eyes no matter how hard you try, all moments of it in your brain turning out blurry and hazy, making you sigh in frustration.

What do you even want your wedding to look like? How do you want it to play out? The questions run through your brain in a rush, not letting you focus and come up with answers, making the man in front of you silently clear his throat to get your attention. 

Noticing that you’re probably wasting his time with this, your cheeks feel hot as you point your eyes towards your shoes, sighing. “I’m- I’m sorry. I think… I… I don’t- I don’t really think I have an idea of how the wedding is supposed to look like?” you mumble out, sounding more like a question than a firm answer.

“I see,” Mark answers, nodding in acknowledgement, “you have all the time you need, don’t worry. We’re here to make it perfect,” he says, smiling at you.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you realize you’ve never really fantasized about your wedding. You remember all your classmates at school sighing and gasping about the idea of a big wedding, marrying the love of their life; but you surely don’t remember ever engaging in those conversations. It’s like you never really cared to get married, you never really wondered how it would feel to kiss your loved one at the altar, you never really thought of it as a big deal. And now, when the day is supposed to come that those imaginations are to come true, you find yourself torn and confused, because how do you even chase a dream that was never there in the first place? How do you fulfill expectations you don’t have?

“To be honest, I have no idea about what I want, I just- I kind of know what Jeno would want, so I suppose I can just follow that, but- but I never really…” you trail off, seeing Mark nod and bite on his lower lip. 

“Uhm,” he hums in understatement, “I see. Maybe… maybe you can look through some catalogs and see what you like the best? I understand that you know what your fiancés' imaginations are, but I also want both of the parties to like the big day, so I need your input as well.”

Gulping, you hurriedly nod, sweaty palms reaching over to the magazines on the desk, desperately flipping through the pages and pointing your gaze towards the pictures, trying hard to admire the big ceremonies, the pink and red decorations, the flower crowns and red carpets on the beach; but once again failing, noticing that this is nothing close to what you imagine when you think of what’s supposed to be the happiest day of your whole entire life. 

The pages of the catalog stick together, making you desperately try to peel them off of each other with your clammy fingers, your breathing getting quicker as you notice the eyes of Mark Lee on your figure, watching over your every move. 

This is not at all how you imagined the appointment to go. You’re only wasting his time and embarrassing yourself– there’s no way you’re ever going back.

“Hey, I’ll send you this quiz, okay? It’s like a- like a little questionnaire where you pick and choose what you like and answer some simple questions and then it gives you a rough idea of what your wedding could look like based on these answers,” Mark says, making you halt in your motion, “I know this is probably a lot of pressure on you right now, since the whole process could be scary and stressful and you’re out here all alone, so don’t worry about not giving me an answer today, alright?”

You find yourself nodding, averting the hands off the pages of the catalog and pressing your body further into the chair. “Alright.”

“And you can also take some of these catalogs home and look through them, mark what you like, take notes in them… whatever you want, okay? And the next time you come with Mr Lee, you can tell me what you both like and we’ll work from that.”

Following his lead in the conversation, you nod again and watch him close the catalog you’ve been frantically searching through for the last few minutes, stacking some more on top of it and pushing the pile towards you so you can take it home. 

“Tell me your number so I can text you the link to the test and the next time you come, it will be easier, I promise.”

“Okay,” you nod, desperately trying to take your attention off the fact that you probably look like a little child, following each instruction that’s been given to you, too scared to take a move.

Paying your goodbye to the wedding planner and taking the pile of catalogs back to your car, your heels meeting the ground resonating all through the empty hallway as you walk out of the building, your mind flashes with the thought that Mark Lee already had your email address and he could’ve just sent you the link there.

Sitting in the silent car for a minute before you drive off, you try to battle the memory of what happened just a few minutes prior out of your head.

Fixing up your lipstick in the mirror of Jeno’s car, you get ready to enter the premises of the wedding salon once again, but this time, with your fiancé by your side. You suppose that the last meeting was completely useless- Jeno told you so as well, and you agree, in a way– but if you wouldn’t have gone to that first meeting, you think that the second one would make you even more nervous.

You see, it’s easier to pretend that you know what you want when you’ve rehearsed what you want to say beforehand. Taking the quiz Mark Lee sent you, and also a couple of more, accompanying yourself with catalogs, magazines and Pinterest boards while your fiancé was at work, you tried hard to come up with something you wouldn’t hate as much. 

Maybe you just don’t like the idea of a wedding. That doesn’t mean you should crush your fiancés dreams to the ground and make the whole thing more difficult than it should be. You’ll just go along with it, get married, and then, you don’t have to worry about it anymore. It's as simple as that– you’re good at compromising, after all.

“Ready?” Jeno asks you as you put the cap of the lipstick you’ve been using back on, shooting you a quick look before you nod and open the door of the car, climbing out of the vehicle.

Following Jeno’s footsteps, so confident and easy it almost makes you feel like he’s been here before, you reach the entrance of the wedding salon in no time. You texted Mark about the time of the next meeting a week ago– you figured it’s easier to communicate like this, instead of emailing each other back and forth. Finding a time when it would be fine with both Jeno and you, and also looking for a free time in Mark’s schedule was quite difficult, but you managed to find a spot on a Thursday afternoon. 

You hoped the day would come slower than it did, but as we all know, life doesn’t work like we want it to all the time.

Hearing the ring of the bell above the door, your wedding planner is already waiting for you at the computer, a welcoming smile adoring his features. You find yourself smiling back at him, easing into the situation. The man in front of you is wearing black jeans and a white button-down, opting to a more professional look, as he shakes his hand with your fiancé and introduces himself. 

“Hello!” Mark smiles, sitting down at the stool, pointing his eyes towards the computer and clicking around for a bit, seemingly opening some document where he can note down everything you two tell him about the vision you have for your wedding. “So, as I already mentioned with Y/N the last time, I’d like to hear some brainstorming from both of you right now, just to see the general idea that we can build off of next. Sounds good?”

Jeno offers him a nice smile, the one where his eyes crinkle up into moon crescents, turning into the adorable samoyed you fell in love with in university. Reaching for his hand, you try to calm yourself down by playing with his fingers– an action you always used to practice whenever you were nervous about something– ready to continue with the planning of your wedding. 

“Sounds great,” Jeno agrees, making Mark nod at his answer, glad with the reply he got. Resting his back against the chair, the man in charge of your wedding looks at you with expecting eyes, ready to hear your answers.

“So, what comes into your mind when you think of your wedding?” Mark asks.

Jeno looks at you for a split second, smiling, as if he was waiting for you to go first and say your ideas. When you don’t comply and stay silent instead, he wastes no time in turning to the other man in the room, talking enthusiastically about what’s going to be the most important day of his life, making you stare at him in examination and interest.

“I think of something romantic. I like grand gestures and big things, so I want our wedding to be one big party where everyone has fun and stays up the whole night,” he starts, making you hum. You knew that Jeno was into these kinds of things– he never missed a chance to celebrate anything with his friends Doyoung and Renjun. Even the way he proposed to you was a grand gesture in itself.

The whole thing played out on your vacation in Spain. You like Spain– the architecture, nature and the sea. Everything about it is your ideal vacation spot, a spot that makes you relax and reset after the whole year. Your first vacation with Jeno was in Spain, and so to be proposed to in the same spot you two walked across together a little over 4 years ago was only fitting and romantic. The beach spot you two found together when you graduated from university was decorated with flower petals and fairy lights, making you wonder how and when your dear partner managed to set all of this up, and when he kneeled down and asked you to marry him, you didn’t have it in you to say no. 

Not that you wanted to say no, of course. You’re in love with Lee Jeno– you somehow think that you always have been and also you always will. Marriage is a big step, though, so you think that the status itself was what made you halt and hesitate for a split second before you replied a teary-eyed “Yes” and kissed your boyfriend with fondness and urgency.

“Alright, sounds good. When you close your eyes and imagine the day, what do you see? Anything specific?” 

Jeno hums, even closing his eyes and thinking deeply, before he replies with a grin. “I see people dancing. I also think I’d like it to be in a big venue, a lot of white and pink… something similar to what you have going on right here, to be honest,” he says.

“Great. Y/N?”

Raising your brows up, startled, you point your look to Mark and realize he wants you to answer his question as well. A wedding is a thing for two– at least– so it’s only normal for him to expect you to have some opinion and idea of what you want.

“I… I’d like it to be something small and comfy? With my closest friends, and stuff. I don’t mind it being decorated simply, since… I’m not really that about flowers and… all that romance stuff…” you say honestly, making sure the rehearsed sentences you made up in your mind on your way here sound gullible. 

It’s not that you’re lying– you just, frankly speaking, still don’t think you love the idea of a wedding. What you’ve said is just a thing you know you’d hate the least. 

Mark looks at you with an examining look, furrowing his eyebrows as he nods and notes down everything both of you have said into the computer. 

“That’s… your opinions are completely opposite, to be honest, but I’m sure we can find a compromise and create something both of you would like. I’ll show you some catalogs and you can both point to things you’d like, okay?” Mark says, rummaging through the drawers of his desk and offering you some magazines, almost identical to the ones you have at home from the last time you visited.

Seeing Jeno taking charge and flipping through the pages with much excitement, you watch his profile when he smiles and points to pictures of greatly decorated wedding halls, churches, tables full of cakes and a picture of the groom and the bride photographed together in a dramatic posture, dipped down and kissing. Flower petals, sparkles and fairy lights everywhere– this is the image of a wedding your fiancé would love, and you’re aware of the fact all too well.

“Isn’t this great, love?” he asks, not even tearing his eyes off the page he’s currently looking at, too busy with studying all the details, already imagining the two of you in the moment captured on one of the pictures in the catalog.

Eyes glazing over the glossy page, you bite down on your lower lip, sighing. 

Again, you don’t find it in you to disagree. He looks so excited and you wouldn’t want to break his heart with your decision.

So instead, you only nod and try to put on your best excited tone. “It looks amazing, Jeno.”

Your eyes meet Mark’s for a moment. 

The look is full of stern sympathy.

ONE SUFFOCATING LOVER ONE FOOL IN A WEDDING GOWN

The next part of your wedding planning journey is perhaps the one you, as the bride, should find the most exciting. How you’re gonna look on your big day is truly important, since you can only imagine full instagram stories of the wedding of every single guest invited, and also, the pictures you take on your wedding are what’s shown around to next generations, making your kids look at the moments captured in time, making them see the blueprint of what’s love supposed to look like while also simultaneously reminiscing of the feelings that died down over the years, simmered and a little washed-out into gray.

Maybe the last thing is what is making you despise the idea of marrying someone so much. What if, after many many years, when you’re at the end of your journey, the pictures would bring more pain than joy? What if it’s a painful reminder of something great that you no longer have in your grasp?

You don’t know what’s making you feel so conflicted about the whole thing. Thinking about it is scary, but the underlying stress of everything is still present and makes you constantly feel like you’re walking on eggshells, bound to mess something up.

Standing in another wedding salon, joined by your closest friend Seori– because you despise the idea of a big group of screaming women joining you on your journey of your own remake of Say yes to the dress– and your wedding planner Mark, you wait for inspiration to kick you and set you off to hunting down the perfect wedding dress. 

“Hello, hello,” a man– lean in posture, wearing dress pants and loafers– joins your little group, a bright smile sitting on his face as he speaks to you, “I’m Na Jaemin, nice to meet you!”

Bowing to the man in formality and shaking his hand, introducing both yourself and your best friend of many years, you grow hesitant in your place. Eyes roaming around the room– walls painted a light peach color, creating a beautiful contrast with the white dresses hung all around the room– you take a deep breath in and out, taking a glimpse of Mark Lee standing by your side and saying something to you.

“This is where we usually go with our brides to pick out dresses, since Jaemin here has the most amazing assortment of all kinds and styles,” Mark explains, making you notice that the two men seem rather close. As you nod and walk around the salon with Seori, they catch up for a minute before the one with blonde hair walks up to you with a bright smile.

“Do you have any preferences about the dress? Any image in your head?” he asks, making you startled. This is not the first time you’ve heard someone ask you about your preferences for the wedding, yet, the question always surprises you and catches you off guard. Usually, you’d consider yourself a woman with strong opinions that’s not afraid to voice them– you’ve gotten into multiple arguments about feminism over your university years– but suddenly, you feel weak and disheartened, shrugging.

“I’ve looked on Pinterest the last night… and the last couple of nights, actually,” you softly laugh, trying to ease yourself into the conversation, “I found more styles that I liked, but I’m not sure if they would fit me well.”

“That’s what we’re here for!” Jaemin encourages you. “Just pick up whatever you like and we’ll help you try it on! Any adjustments needed will be done here, so don’t stress about it.”

Gratefully smiling and nodding at the man, you turn to the rack full of pearl white and shades of cream, your hands start working before your brain does, moving the hangers around and taking a look at all of the dresses available, taking your time. You’re not quite sure what would look good on you, not really able to imagine the dresses on your figure, and you feel the mental block of not being excited enough about all of this holding you back and tying you down. 

“What about these?” Seori asks, an excited glint in her voice. Turning around to her, seeing the dress she’s picked out, you can’t help but giggle, since the dress is awfully similar to the obnoxious gown you wore to your senior prom, just in white. 

“You’re unbelievable,” you laugh, coming up to her and taking the hanger into your hands, “one look and I’m back in high school,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief and hanging the dress back onto the rack, giving up on that option already.

“I still remember how funny you looked,” Seori laughs, poking fun at you, “I can’t believe you wore that.”

“I can’t believe you let me wear that!” you argue back. The memories of your senior prom hit you with a sense of weird nostalgia. It was all so easy back then– you went with Jeno, and you had a lot of fun together. It felt like an end of an era, and it truly was just that, even though the reality of it didn’t click for you back then. You’ve lived through multiple stages of your life with Jeno, and to think you’re going to be with him until the end of your life, seems oddly unbelievable on your insides. 

“You were unstoppable, girl,” Seori grins, shaking her head. Continuing to look through the dresses, you pick out a few that you like, hesitantly moving them to the separate rack that’s emptied out for your options. Catching a glimpse of Mark sitting at one of the sofas, alongside with Jaemin, your eyes meet as he offers you a warm smile. This works as a reassurance, making you walk back to the dresses, standing next to Seori, seeing her pick up another white gown, showing it to you.

The dress is long and lacy, decorated with mesh on the shoulders, flowery details scattered all along the skirt. You can’t help but find the dress a little obnoxious, a little too much, perhaps, yet, you’d still call the piece of clothing beautiful, for you can see the appeal of a princessy look for most women your age. Hesitantly scanning over the many details, Seori speaks up to you.

“Jeno would love this on you.” 

Meeting her eyes, she looks at you warmly. She’s known Jeno for as long as you have, all of you being friends since high school, so you can’t say she wouldn’t know. Because, frankly speaking, it’s true– Jeno would love that dress, and he would love it on you. It fits the image of his ideal wedding perfectly, with all the romanticness, all the grand gestures matching with the long skirt and the girly detailing across the neckline. You hate the dress, you feel sick as you’re looking at it, it makes you feel claustrophobic and dizzy, yet, the words that came out of Seori’s mouth resonate in your head over and over, making you pick up the hanger and move it to the rest of your options.

Jeno would love that dress.

“I… I think I have enough options now, I’m gonna try some on,” you say, smiling at the men sitting on the sofa, being met with eager nods of acknowledgement. The two of them seem to talk like old friends, and you can’t help but wonder why Jeno doesn’t meet up with his friends anymore and why he no longer has time for anything other than work. You’d like to see him like this– immersed into a conversation, yet, still playful and happy to just… exist.

Seori helps you into the dresses behind the curtain of the dressing room. The first few of them are a miss, you don’t like the way they look on you and the way some dresses enhance the features you dislike on yourself, saying no to them almost instantly. You don’t know how long it takes for you to get through all the dresses; it feels like infinity, like the time’s stopped and you’re stuck in this loop forever, when only two dresses are left: the one Seori picked out and your own, personal favorite.

Choosing the one Jeno would love the most, you wear it and hear Seori squeal out with excitement. “This looks so good on you! Oh my god!”

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you look like the woman Jeno would want to marry. Like a cut-out from the wedding magazines he likes to look through on his free days, you spin around like a princess, fitting the image of Jeno’s ideal wedding almost perfectly– with all the flowery details and romantic style. 

“Do you like it?”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shrug. You must seem unsure– but on the inside, you are screaming. The claustrophobic feeling settles into your chest again, making you feel like you’re suffocating on the inside, making you desire to rip the gown off and never see it again. 

“Let’s show them!” Seori says, opening up the curtain and making you step outside of the dressing room, turning you in your place so you twirl like a Disney princess. “Doesn’t she look magical?” 

Jaemin instantly nods, a happy glint in his eye. You wonder if he likes his job so much– he certainly looks like it, from the never-disappearing smile on his face and the enthusiasm he walks around the place with. You’re quite jealous of him. He seems like the perfect image of what you’ve dreamt of being when you graduated university– a person with their life together, loving their stable job and starting a family. Yet, you’re here– seemingly put together in a wedding dress that makes you panic, the eyes of everyone on you feeling judging, not sure of what to do and to which direction to step towards to finally get yourself together.

“She looks amazing!” you hear Jaemin say, making you nod with tight lips. “Is this your favorite one?” he asks.

Opening your mouth to agree– even though it’s a lie– you blink a few times to calm yourself down. The mental image of your favorite dress still waiting at the empty rack, waiting to be tried on, burns in the back of your brain, but you’ve said goodbye to it the moment you dressed up as Jeno’s bride. 

“It can’t be,” Mark says, making you look at him with glossy eyes, confused.

“B-but-”

“You have one more to try on. You’ll see which one you like better after, okay?” he says, almost as if he was reading your mind, seeing the hesitance you tried so hard to hide.

Nodding, you step inside the dressing room again, changing the dress for the one you picked out with the help of your best friend. Taking a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, your eyes almost start to water, the A-line of the skirt and the simplicity of it all making you feel the best, like you could actually imagine yourself getting married, if you were wearing this gown. Turning around in your place, admiring the silk fabric, you don’t think you could ever find a better one. 

Yet, the other dress still sits in the back of your mind like a bad memory, not letting you leave without it. It’s there, pettily kicking it’s foot against the flooring of your brain, bringing you headache and making you nervous as your clammy fingers move your hair away when you step outside of the room, ready to be criticized by the other people at the salon.

Eyes shaking, they find solace in the features of your wedding planner, his eyes like big pools of honey when he softly traces over the lines of your body, his lips parted agape. The expression makes you shy away from his gaze, heat rising to your face when you notice light pink dusting the man’s cheeks, quickly breaking his gaze from you.

“You look beautiful,” he mumbles, clearing his throat. The compliment should sound more casual than it has, the three words making your hands shake as you turn back to the mirror, forcing yourself to watch your surroundings through it instead, shielding yourself from the situation.

“Thank you,” you say.

“So, which one do you like more?” Jaemin asks, walking up to you and tightening the dress around your waist, showing you its full potential. 

Locking eyes with Seori, you see that she’s not up to the simplicity of the dress you’ve got on. You see the suggesting look to the other dress, the one that makes you drown in despair, the one that you should be wearing, logically; the one that Jeno would love to see you in, the one you should be wearing to be his wife. 

Pupils shaking as you take your reflection in for the last time, you’re ready to say goodbye. You’re ready to take the dress off and force yourself to forget about it, force yourself to never think of how pretty you thought you looked wearing it, force yourself to never see the image of you in your brain– to not cause yourself the bittersweet feeling you’ve been getting used to recently.

“Y/N, you should… You should only think about yourself right now, okay? Our opinions don’t matter,” Mark says from behind you, your eyes locking in the mirror. He uses the word ‘our’, suggesting that you shouldn’t think about the people in this room, that you shouldn’t think about what Seori, Jaemin, or Mark himself thinks, but somehow, you feel as if the words had a deeper meaning.

Perhaps he’s telling you to forget about Jeno’s opinion for a minute. To truly let yourself get lost in the planning of the wedding, to let go of the opinion that’s weighing you down the most of them all. To pick the dress you like, and not the one your fiancé would.

“This is the only part of the wedding that’s completely up to you, after all. Maybe you should take advantage of that,” Mark completes, sending an encouraging smile towards your figure.

And he’s right. You can’t be fully in charge anywhere else– almost to the point of feeling like your opinion doesn’t matter if it’s not the same as your fiancé’s– and maybe, that’s what’s making you feel so restricted in the whole process.

Maybe you should take your favorite dress. Maybe you should do at least one thing for yourself.

The trips to Mark Lee’s wedding salon are a usual thing now. It’s your first time planning a wedding for yourself, and while you also truly hope it’s also the last time, you can’t help but feel a little weirded out at the ordinariness of it all. You get used to the trips to the salon, you get used to the time it takes you to drive there in your small car– letting you time the songs in your playlist almost perfectly until the last moment when you park and turn the engine off– only when you’re driving there alone, though, because Jeno likes to pick the music when he drives and compromise is one thing you two can’t do when it comes to a playlist. It’s okay, though. You drive to the wedding salon more times alone than with your fiancé, and while it’s unusual and you’d really want him to be there, you guess you can’t really do anything about it now. It’s not like he was the one to ask you to marry him, after all… 

“What about the honeymoon?” Mark asks one day, looking at you from under his eyelashes. The weather outside is cold and he’s wearing a thick hoodie, his whole outfit looking twice as cozy as your little thin jacket that you threw on yourself quickly before leaving the house. The image of his sweater paws makes you wonder how it would feel to be in the soft material of his light gray hoodie, making you almost slap yourself when you're caught on your own with the thought in your brain. It’s not like you’re thinking of another man when you’re on your way to get married, that’s not it– it’s just the simple jealousy of the warmth Mark radiates that’s gotten you to this point. 

Shrugging, you glance at him, meeting his chocolate eyes. “I bet Jeno would love to go somewhere to the sea. We got engaged on a beach, so I guess that’s the right way to go.”

Scribbling on the notebook that’s sitting on his table– you wonder when he switched from his laptop to written notes; maybe it’s the power crisis– he hums before he turns back to you with an examining look. “And you?”

After working for you for a couple of weeks, the man should already know that it’s no good to ask for your opinion when it comes to your wedding. You don’t really have an image in your mind, and when you do, there’s no use in pushing through with your view, since Jeno’s would always be stronger, and what Jeno says, usually goes. And you love him– he’s the one dreaming so much about marriage. So you do what he wants, naturally. 

“I don’t know,” you mumble.

Earning yourself a sigh from Mark, you almost laugh at his annoyed look. “How many times do I have to tell you that you need to tell me something I can work with, Y/N?” he asks.

After so many days spent at the wedding salon with Mark Lee, you two have come to a state of a casual friendship. It’s not all so formal and stern anymore, leaving you two space for jokes and snarky comments about cliche decorations shown on the shiny pages of magazines, making you two comfortable with each other enough to joke about looking dead when the other one is tired and telling each other about your days when you have time. Ever since you two have met, you’ve been the most indecisive person Mark Lee’s ever known– and he’s met a lot of people in his profession of a wedding planner so far. The only thing you’ve ever had a straight opinion on was the wedding dress.

He can’t get the picture of you in your dress out of his mind. Sure, he’s seen a lot of brides before, the image not really impacting him as much anymore as before– for the look on the bride’s faces never failed to make him emotional with the premise of the fact that he’s a part of something beautiful. He’s seen a lot of brides and weddings before, but in the white lights of the bright salon, he couldn’t help but think that you’ve been the most beautiful one so far, and he can’t seem to imagine anyone ever beating you. It’s a silly thought– one that he finds himself battling more times than he should, but it’s still there, in the back of his mind, whenever you two meet eyes. 

That’s why he couldn’t let you choose the dress Jeno wanted. Not because he would be selfish– at least he desperately hopes he’s not selfish for wanting to see you in that dress again, at least once, at the wedding– but because he knows that you wouldn’t feel like yourself in the other one. And why would he let that happen, when he’s practically the one in charge of the whole ceremony?

And so, the fact that you say you don’t know what you’d like for your honeymoon doesn’t surprise him. But still, he wishes you could let yourself get more in tune with your opinions than Lee Jeno’s. At least when he’s not present…

“I know, I know,” you roll your eyes at the scolding manner, “but I just… I’ve never thought about it before, I guess?”

“That makes sense, I mean, it’s your first time getting married,” he shrugs, “but you must have a place you’d like to see one day, no? A place both of you, with Jeno, would love to travel to one day,” he says, looking at you with expectations in his orbs.

Lost, shrugging at his question, you almost look full of despair and confusion. Truth be told, planning a wedding is not as relaxing as one would think. There’s many things to take in mind, a lot of things that can go wrong and need to be taken care of. And you keep telling yourself that it’s going to be alright and that it has to be the most perfect day of your life, but you just can’t seem but to be a little stranded, especially in moments when Jeno isn’t by your side; when he’s the one that should be in charge, and not you. 

Maybe Mark can read your mind. Or maybe, he’s just too good at reading people.

“Okay, relax,” he smiles, nudging your leg a little under the table, “then just… think about what you’d like to see. Your dream holiday destination. A place you always wanted to visit. Don’t think about the honeymoon thing or the wedding, if that helps.”

The grateful smile on your face is like a reward for the man, your eyes close a little as you lean back in the chair and think of the place you’d love to see the most. Not held by the grudges of the wedding, not holding on to the thought of a honeymoon, you find it easier to see the place right in front of your eyes, to focus on the noise of the destination, the crowded town centers and amazing architecture; you find it easier to be in tune with what you want, letting go of the thing you always force yourself to say.

“I’d love to go to France. Paris. I- I know they say it’s dirty, but frankly, I just want to see it with my own eyes at least once. And I think it’s quite romantic,” you say, opening your eyes to see the man in front of you glancing at you with a soft smile playing with his features, feeling yourself getting shy as your cheeks heaten up at the words you’ve just uttered out of your lips, “oh god, this might just be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever said out loud.”

Mark chuckles, shaking his head at you. “It’s a nice change.”

Scratching the back of your neck, you watch as the man scribbles down the word ‘Paris’ into his notebook, the lack of eye contact leaving you with your walls down and your soul in open. “But I don’t think- I don’t think Jeno would like to go to Paris. I’ll think of something else, so it fits…”

Looking back up at you, the shame mirroring in your eyes when he examines your whole figure, he lets himself shake his head in disbelief, showing you his true opinion on the comment. “I think you should compromise, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s what I just said.”

“That’s not a compromise, Y/N,” he says, his voice considerate, “that’s just… you compromising. Not Jeno. Never Jeno.”

And while you’d like to tell him that that’s how it’s supposed to be, because you already agreed to the wedding despite not making your mind yet, while you’d like to tell him that you owe it to him for not being fond of the idea, while you’d like to tell him that what Jeno says goes, because you can’t imagine yourself breaking his heart with telling him that this is not at all what you want– you stay quiet. Shrugging, you avert your gaze to the ground.

“I’m fine with that. I’m more than happy to comply, if he’s happy.”

TWO PEOPLE UNDER BEDSHEETS, ONE WALLOWING IN DEFEAT

Swirling the maroon liquid around in your tall glass, feet dressed in warm socks as you’re twisted into a blanket burrito, you overlook the figure of your fiancé sitting at your small couch, papers sprawled all around the coffee table. Taking a sip of the red wine, you feel comfortable for the first time in weeks– you don’t feel rushed, you don’t feel like there’s a burden on your shoulders– and you pray hard that it’s not just the effect of alcohol.

“Can you pass me that paper?” you ask Jeno, seeing him turn around with his half-wet hair, having just come out of the shower after work, his slight smile putting you at ease.

“Which one?”

“The list of guests. The one in the corner,” you point to the paper sitting at the coffee table, the contents of it another important step closer to your wedding. Mark advised you two to compile a list of all the people you want to invite to your wedding, so you know how big of a venue you’ll need to rent out. You complied to his request, sitting at your table one afternoon and scribbling down names of all the people you’d miss at your wedding, having the list not being that long– there was around 15 people, including your family, and you knew damn well that some of the people in your list will overlay with Jeno’s, for you have a couple of mutual friends.

“Oh,” he nods, passing you the list, “want to go over it? I did mine a while back, when you were at work,” he adds, making you nod.

“Sure.”

“Are you inviting girls from university?” he asked, looking at you from under his eyelashes. He knew some of your friends from uni, and while you could very well imagine your wedding full of people that you barely knew, it’s not something you strive for. Your wedding, at least in your head, is supposed to be a little safe haven– a place where you dance around and have fun, a place where you know each face that shows up, being able to let loose and enjoy the evening with your closest friends. So, to Jeno’s question, you shake your head in disagreement.

“Only a couple,” you say, “my roommates, yes. The other ones, I don’t really need there.”

“Oh,” he mumbles, squinting his eyelashes. In the midst of the scattered sheets of paper on the coffee table, he finds his own list, full of lazy scribbles in black ink. You can tell he took the paper you keep in the kitchen for when you need to write down a shopping list, because it’s a little greasy at the bottom. Looking over the names he’s written down, you notice that his list is significantly longer than yours, and you can also tell that some names, you barely even recognise.

“You want that many people to attend?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I want them all there. Besides, my family’s big, so I can’t really make the list shorter, if that’s what you’re implying,” he notes, taking you off-guard with the sudden protest to something you haven’t even started talking about yet.

“I-I wasn’t saying that, but I think we could… go through your list and maybe forget about some people? I mean, my list is only 15 people long, and if we go through with what you have, we’d have to rent a big venue, and I can only imagine how expensive that will be…” you mumble, trying hard to pursue him.

There’s a shadow of an encouraging smile somewhere in the back of your head, a soft memory of a voice telling you that you two should compromise– you bet it’s Mark Lee, but you won’t admit that to anyone. Something about his words on your last meeting struck with you, though, and even though you would love to comply to everything Jeno wants, because he’s the one in desire of a wedding, you find yourself protesting to his idea, because, frankly, maybe you do not want to spend that much money on a venue, and also, maybe because you wanted your wedding to be small and intimate.

“I don’t care how much it costs, Y/N,” he shrugs, “it’s our wedding. We can spend some money on the special day.”

Sighing, you chew on the inside of your cheek. “I just thought we could have a smaller wedding, you know. I always wanted it to be filled with people I know, people I can’t imagine the day go by without, so I was very cautious with the choice of my guests-”

“And I wasn’t?” he cuts you off, suddenly all defensive.

“That’s not what I said, Jeno-”

“Look, I don’t want to cut anyone off the list. You have your own guest list and I have mine. We rent a venue that can fit both, okay?” he insists, making you finally snap, annoyance for the first time slipping off your tongue.

“Why can’t we just compromise on this?”

The man looks at you with cold eyes, something you never imagined to see from a man you’re in love with. Sure, you’ve had arguments before. Yes, they scared you a little each time, but they weren’t anything you weren’t sure you wouldn’t get through. You and Jeno argue over small, blatant things, things you can fix in a second– nothing to make you worry. This time, though, there’s a hit in your stomach that makes you freeze in your movements, halt in your step. Maybe you’ve hit a weak spot in him. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that.

“Do whatever you want,” he says, full of frustration as he throws the paper onto the table and storms off, closing the door behind him as he walks off to the bedroom, ready to sleep.

Is this how your dialogue was supposed to go? With you stating your needs, and him telling you to get over it? Do whatever you want?

You scoff. As if you wanted to get married in the first place…

Drinking the rest of the glass, you shuffle further down into the sofa, trying hard to make yourself fall asleep in the living room, despite your thoughts running around like they’re on a marathon. The warmth that radiated off the man and the whole situation is now long gone, leaving you feeling like an unlit fireplace, hugging yourself as if to shield your body from the impact of the silent sobs that dare to cut out of your throat.

What Jeno wants, goes. How silly of you to think you can compromise.

Sometimes, you wonder if you’re just not holding on to something that’s slowly burning out. Looking at your fiancé in the wedding salon right now, his side profile so perfect you’ve gotten used to it over the years, you reminisce about the memories you two have made together during your early stages of the relationship. The images flash through your brain in a feeling of bittersweet nostalgia, making you desire a time of life that’s no longer here, because you’re getting older and settling down. It’s not like you can feel free forever, you just don’t feel like you’re free in the relationship anymore– and truth be told, you were free and in love in all those moments you think of with a soft smile, so why is the essence of it no longer there? Is it really just because the thought of marrying someone is so deeply terrifying to you, or is there something more to it?

“Do you like these?” Jeno asks, holding up a wedding invitation to you. It’s snow white and the corners are rimmed with a rose gold color, everything falling perfectly with the decorations and the whole theme of your wedding.

“I do,” you nod.

You don’t.

Everything about the whole day, the closer it is, the more scary it truly feels to you. You can’t bring yourself to think of it, to imagine it, to have the promise of staying with Lee Jeno until the rest of your life right there in front of you eyes, and it all makes you wonder– truly, deeply reflect on yourself– as to why you don’t want that, and why you’re so scared of staying with him forever, when in theory, he’s the one you love and the one you should want to marry. 

“And what about these ones?”

“They’re pretty,” you reply, not meeting his eyes.

You wonder if this is just the aftertaste of the fight you had about the number of guests. Maybe you just don’t feel in tune with it because neither of you has acknowledged the argument yet, maybe because you feel bitter because you felt like your opinion wasn’t valid in the process. Maybe that’s what’s making you soullessly stare into nowhere, eyes trailing over the white walls and the clasped hands of your wedding planner sitting cautiously right opposite of you– maybe that’s what’s making you agree to everything Jeno likes; because your opinion will never matter in the first place.

But that’s okay. That’s your fate now– that’s what you signed up for, after all. You agreed to marry him. You told him yes, even though the reply wasn’t clear in your head, you said you’d love to spend your forever with him, even though the feelings battling inside of you were so conflicting, yet the one you were leaving more towards was the urge to run away. So now, you have to face it; you have to marry him, because you lied to him about your emotions, because you let him down with a promise you never wanted to keep; because you can’t face the reality of breaking the man’s heart when all he did was love you deeply.

And it’s not even that you don’t love him anymore. Maybe you just hate the idea of your relationship feeling ordinary. Maybe you’re selfishly just bored. 

“So, which ones do you prefer?” Jeno asks, looking at you with big eyes. If you stare into them for long enough, you could even see a hint of him trying to do better– asking for your opinion and ready to respect it, a hint of him saying sorry for the things he’d said without words, laying the opportunity of being in charge to you again. 

Shrugging, you chew on the inside of your cheek. You hate both. You hate the idea of every single wedding invitation, because you don’t want a wedding, and the idea of using these little pieces of cardboard to invite numerous people to see you lying into your partner’s eyes makes you want to dig a hole and lie in it, maybe even bury yourself alive. “I like both.”

“But we need to choose one,” he insists, putting a hand to your thigh, his grip soft, yet protective and comforting. You used to love his sudden touches, the affection seeping off his fingers any time his fingertips glazed the surface of your skin. Now, you find yourself wanting to shrug the hand off, for the contact of it with your body burns, making you guilty for a mess that’s currently going on in your head, making you dizzy and confused.

“I-” you stutter, “which ones do you like?” you ask, helpless.

Eyes scanning over your figure, Jeno almost pressures you for more. He almost asks for your opinion again, wanting to see the excited glint in your eye as you look through the magazines and choose your wedding invitations, but when he finds nothing in the endless pools of your eyes, he knows to step back and leave it be, a hopeless sigh escaping his lips. “I like the first ones better.”

You could guess the answer if you were asked to.

Smiling, you nod. “I was leaning towards these as well.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Totally,” you nod, trying to reassure him with a soft smile. You’re not sure if it reaches your eyes– you just know that if it doesn’t, Jeno can clearly tell.

“Okay, that’s all for today, I think,” Mark concludes, making you look at him. His chocolate orbs are plastered on your distressed face and you feel naked in front of him, you feel as if he can see right through your lies, as if he can tell that you really want to be anywhere but here right now. 

“Thank you,” Jeno smiles at your wedding planner, the two of them shaking hands in a formal manner before your fiancé stands up from his chair and reaches for his coat, ready to leave the office. When your eyes meet with Mark’s, you offer him a friendly smile– the one you always have saved for him– and turn towards your coat as well, ready for your departure. Just when you’re about to leave the room, Mark’s voice echoes after you, making you halt in your movements.

“Actually, I forgot… Can I talk with Y/N alone for a sec? It’s about dresses, so… you’re not really allowed to hear, Jeno,” he says, cracking his knuckles as he utters those words, making you nod as Jeno offers him a polite nod, telling you that he’ll be waiting for you in the car outside. Once the door closes behind him and the room falls silent, you move closer towards Mark, looking at him with expecting eyes.

“What is it?” you ask.

Mark takes a deep breath in and out, shaking his head as if to get his thoughts straight, before he looks at you again with softness in his eyes, his voice barely louder than a whisper– for the contents of his speech are something that should be banned to say, especially in a setting like this. “You know you can still back away, right?”

Looking at him for a few seconds, a few seconds that feel like eternity, you blink at him in shock and surprise. “What?”

“There’s still time to say no,” he says, now looking you dead in the eyes, the expression stern, yet considerate. 

His words can’t really process in your head, the whole situation making you break down your walls as you shake your head, running your hand through your hair. Scoffing in disbelief, you turn defensive– because who is Mark Lee to tell you anything about your upcoming marriage and why can he see right through you? Who gave him the right to see through your walls, through the facade you built up all those months ago; who let him make you feel utterly, completely naked in front of him, scared of what he’ll see inside? 

“What are you even talking about?” you snap.

“I think you know what I mean, Y/N,” he says.

“I-” you stutter again, all words stuck inside of your throat, “why would I even want to do that? Why would I want to call it off?”

“Y/N-”

Nothing can stop the tangent that’s incoming out of your lips right now– not the soft, considerate look he gives you, not the eyes full of truth and honesty staring right inside of your soul, not the soft touch on your shoulder that you shrug off in the speed of light as your hands fly into the air in frustration. “It’s not your place to tell me to cancel my wedding, Mark, and I don’t know what’s gotten into your brain to make you think for just a second that that’s what I want to do, because- because I know that I’ve been out of it, I do know that, but I just- I just can’t do that to Jeno even if I really wanted to, you know?” you let out, tired voice echoing off the walls of the salon. “So don’t go around and tell me I can still say no, when I’ve already said yes, and don’t try to tell me that this is what I want, because I truly, deeply wish that I didn’t.”

The defeated look on your face is enough for the man to break, yet, he offers you nothing more than silence as you stare him down, wordless and empty. Breathing heavily, you turn to the door, shaking your head in disapproval of the whole thing.

Turning around one last time at the door, you try to burn Mark Lee down with your eyes, for the comfort he gives you with this new opportunity both sets you free and makes you suffocate at once, his words make your insides burn with ashes as you desperately try to breathe for fresh air– the whole thing leaves you mad and stranded, completely alone and left to lean on nobody, because the one that’s supposed to be there for you now and forever is the object of this mere conversation.

“Don’t- don’t mention this again,” you sternly say, reaching for the doorknob, feeling a stray tear falling off your cheek as you escape the pure white walls of his office. 

This whole time, you didn’t even notice you’ve been crying.

Voices of the people present resonate through the half-empty venue, pearl white pillars supporting the weight of the ceiling situated in calculated places all around the spacious room as you lean on one of them, watching your fiancé walk around with your wedding planner, observing the place. There are big windows on one of the walls, the glass panels providing you with a view of the outside– a pretty, long garden filled with flowers that will wilt once the cold season is over, tall trees shielding some places from the sun, providing a relaxing shade. 

Tugging your sleeves down to further cover your arms, since the place is kind of chilly, you try to catch up to the two men in the other corner of the room, both physically and in conversation. Listening to Jeno asking all about the technical stuff and how the place is going to look once decorated, Mark answers him with factual answers, showing him around and making sure the groom is 100% satisfied with his choice. 

You still think you’d prefer a smaller venue– you still prefer a smaller wedding. It’s not up to you to decide, though, and you’ve given up on that opportunity a long time ago. Maybe in the same moment you said yes to him on the beach– you think that was the moment where you decided your own destiny, the moment where you tied yourself down with a metal ball on your leg, and now it’s your fate to drag it around and pretend it’s not there and that you’re not bothered by the weight.

“It seems perfect,” Jeno hums, making you automatically nod with a mechanical smile, looking around the venue once again. In Jeno’s eyes, it sure does seem perfect– it fits all the criteria of his ideal wedding, of the best day of his whole, entire life. And you can’t lie, if you really tried hard enough, you could even see the vision. You could even force yourself to enjoy the image of it in your head, you could even imagine the day going exactly by the plan, and in reality, nothing will even change, because you’ve been living with Jeno for quite a while now, but the concept just seems so scary and unnatural to you that you can’t help but feel like the reality will crash you any passing second if you don’t try hard enough to keep your guard up.

“It’s amazing,” you nod, afraid to meet any of the men’s eyes. Gathering up all the courage you have left in you, you add another convincing message. “I can almost imagine it all decorated and stuff, it’s gonna be great.”

You hear a strangled hum come out of Mark’s throat, a noise you can only decipher with it’s true emotion because you still have the conversation from a few weeks ago fresh in your brain, replaying over and over in front of your eyes as you can’t fall asleep under the blankets of your soft bed, twisting and turning in despair. If he could see it, why can’t Jeno? 

There’s a hint of you that wishes oh so deeply that your fiancé, the man that knows you the best, could see right through your white lies; there’s a hint of you that desires for him to talk to you about it, to get mad and leave you for leading him on and breaking his heart.

That doesn’t come, though, and you know it never will. You're too far in now to ever look back.

A touch on your hand brings you to avert your gaze from the ground to the man next to you, the emptiness of it all breaking your heart a thousand times over and over, your heart yearning for somebody to take it and mold it back together, glue the sharp pieces back again even though they could cut them, to tell you that it’s okay and that you’re human and that people make mistakes, yours just was a way bigger one than you should’ve ever let happen. But that doesn’t come, and it may never– but it’s okay, because you are the reason for your own downfall, and you’re the reason why you now have to play pretend and suffer. 

You glance up at Mark. Strangely, his eyes soften. He should hate you– for even though you pretend, he knows damn well what storm’s going on on the inside, and maybe you could say it’s only for the years of experience he has with fiancés eagerly planning their wedding that he can see you don’t share the same enthusiasm, or you two were just simply connected and in tune. Chewing harshly on your lower lip, so hard you taste the iron bitterness of your own blood on your tongue, your discomfort tries hard to show at your face and you keep battling hard to not let it slip. 

It’s been years with Lee Jeno by your side. Why can’t he see your suffering?

And you keep telling yourself that maybe it’s just his own joy and enthusiasm that makes him so blind to your averted eyes and still body under his sheets. But that doesn’t help your situation; you’d argue it makes it even worse, for you don’t think you can keep going for any longer, and he’s the one pushing forward with such force. You never enjoyed the difference in power you two have. You should’ve never said yes to him in the first place.

And it’s drowning you, because it’s not even his fault. He’s done nothing wrong, but you can’t help but want to stay away, want to hide and run whenever the topic of a wedding is brought to your attention, because it’s not what you desire, even though it’s what you should want, after so many years by his side.

Mark’s voice echoes in your brain, his damn argument never leaving the walls of your head. You want to silence it, but you’re never strong enough.

It’s never too late to back away. But how could you do that to him? You shouldn’t.

You shouldn’t, and that’s why you’ll never do so, no matter how scared and panicked you feel. 

You shouldn’t, because you loved him.

ONE UNREQUITED BELIEF

They say that staring into a cup of black coffee won’t make your troubles go away; nor will it make you feel at least a little better about yourself, but nonetheless, you do it on a cloudy, sad afternoon, sitting in your kitchen as you hug your knees to your chest. Hearing the steady ticking of the clock on the wall, you wonder why you can’t make the time stop– why you can’t just hide away from your problems for a little while, finding a quiet haven and listening to yourself for just a second, to see what you really need and what you should do.

But you can’t stop the time, even though you sometimes really desire for that to happen, and that leads to your fiancé eventually coming home to find you staring into the cup of now cold, black coffee, the solemn look on your face telling him perhaps more than you would’ve expect, but still not enough to fully understand.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking a cautious seat on the chair opposite of yours, not even bothering to put away the groceries he brought with himself on his way from work. Sensing the tense atmosphere, you take a glimpse on his face, and with the sad pools that are his eyes right now, you force yourself to swallow away the guilt and look away. 

“Nothing,” you mourn, your voice weak and almost a little shameful. It makes you feel bad for him– for letting him see you like this, on your worst; but the reality of the knowledge that if you two want to really stay together forever, he has to see you like this until you die– the image of him looking at you with such scared eyes every single time, it sends shivers down your spine. You’d rather crawl out of your own skin than to experience it over and over again, the motion of it destroying you completely until there’s nothing left of you than a broken, empty shell of a human you used to be.

And Jeno, he’d fit in your skin, if he could. He’d crawl inside with you, trying to fix every piece that’s broken, trying to understand the patterns of your veins and the thoughts flowing through your head. But the truth is, that you’ve got some problem, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. And that’s even scarier than anything he’s ever encountered before.

But he’s not stupid. 

“We need to talk about the wedding, right?” he asks, and the reality comes crashing down on you. He knows– he knows, he knows, he knows; he’s aware of the storm on your inside and how the raindrops can’t seem but to wash you completely away, making you drown. And you should’ve expected it, he’s your partner, after all, but you never once in your life could’ve predicted the lost look in his eyes when you finally look up at him from the darkness of your coffee cup and offer him a hushed whisper.

“What about it?” 

Offering you a tired smile, he sighs and nestles deeper into the chair. Brushing his hair out of his face, as if to prepare himself for the tough conversation, he puts his hands on the table and you watch his muscles flex when he moves to crack the knuckles of his palms in nerves, a habit you’ve noticed in him from when you first started dating back in high school.

“You’re unhappy with it,” he proclaims, not even leaving you a second to react with a disapproving ramble that he knows is coming– you always say everything’s fine when it’s not– as he proceeds with his observations, “and I know I might have been too pushy with some of my decisions, and I wasn’t being considerate enough of your opinions, but I promise you that we can change all the parts you don’t like and compromise. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you can’t have a say in it,” he says, and there’s a wallowing pit inside of your stomach, because after all,

he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know what’s going on, he doesn’t see it in your eyes when you tiredly close them to get rid of the exhaustion, he doesn’t understand that this is not the problem, and it’s okay, because he’s not a mind reader, but to your poor, selfish self, it feels like you’ve been wronged, because who can understand you in this, if not your own fiancé, the love of your life?

“It’s okay, Jeno,” you mumble, almost automatically.

“I said I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

There’s a silence overtaking you two, the clock ticking on the wall driving you insane. You think that if you hear the piercing sound of it ever again, you might just open the kitchen window and jump out of it, but then there’s another sound, and that one makes you crawl out of your skin again, the sound of Jeno's voice making your nails scrape against your own insides as the last remains of you need to stay inside, true to themselves.

“So what’s wrong? What do we work on?” he asks, and the tone of his voice is so considerate, so gentle, it almost brings you to tears.

Because you don’t deserve to be treated like this. 

Because you’re a traitor. That’s what you are, aren’t you?

“Nothing…”

“Do we change the invitations? Is it the venue?” he insists, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion as you don’t offer him any response. The silence is excruciating to him and you can clearly see, but still, it doesn’t lead you to breaking the truth to him, it doesn’t make you say the words that have been slowly dying at the tip of your tongue since the day you got engaged.

“Y/N, if you don’t tell me, we can’t fix it. Can you please talk to me and tell me what it is so we can work on it together?” he asks. 

And it’s killing you. 

Shaking your head, you scowl. This is not the way your script is supposed to play out. You were too careless, let him see inside, but all he saw through the crack was a glimpse of the full thing and now him aimlessly searching with a pointless game of guessing is only making it worse, and you don’t know how longer you can go without bursting apart.

“I told you it’s fine,” you insist, eyes closed as you plop your head against your palm, resting your elbow on the hard surface of your kitchen table. Your voice is barely louder than a whisper, but the impact of your words still feel like arrows with a straight goal to Jeno’s poor heart.

Another sigh leaves the man. Reaching gently for your wrist, he tries to pry your hands away from your face, but you stay put as he asks you over and over again. “If you really want to have a smaller wedding, I’ll cut down the guests. I’ll do it for you, if you want me to,” he says, and you don’t know why him fully letting go of what he wants is what makes you break– maybe it’s the fact that now that the wedding won’t be exactly to the point like his ideal, leaving the whole thing a whole fraud, an act you’re playing just to satisfy him and the others– but you do, as you cut him off with another hesitant, yet firm sentence.

“Maybe we can lower the guests… to zero.”

A heartbeat passes, and then another one. You think he can’t quite grasp the full meaning of your words, and you’re right as he opens his mouth and inquires for an explanation, his heart hammering against his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we don’t need a wedding.”

His expression falls more, if that’s even possible, his eyes losing all their glint as he stares at you, dumbfounded. Snickering, he shakes his head. “You’re joking.”

Wetting your lips, averting your gaze from him and taking a glimpse outside of the window– the snow falling for the first time this winter making the whole situation even more idyllic, pushing you further with your final decision– you sigh and shrug, the argument already started and there’s no going back now, so you aren’t even scared of the idea of backing away anymore. 

“I don’t want to get married.”

And in this moment, you almost feel like the clock got broken and the ticking stopped, or the world stopped spinning and the time halted in that exact second– either one of these, as your heart beats angrily against your ribcage, the sound of it in the veins of your ears making you drown out everything else. Lee Jeno is staring at you with eyes that slowly lose all their life, his expression growing more and more full of despair, and the image tears you apart, the little you inside wanting to break free at the sight of him completely crumbling under the impact of your words, and suddenly, you don’t know what to do as you stare him down and await his response. You don’t know how he’ll react. He could scream, he could shout– hell, he could even cry or leave you in silence, the closure never coming as you wait for him at that damned kitchen table forever. But Lee Jeno’s always been a man of words, and so, he doesn’t leave you hanging for long as he scoffs again, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re joking, right?”

But when the silence is his answer, he already knows he doesn’t have to keep asking.

“So you’ve just been… what? Leading me on for the last few months?” he asks, the bitterness falling off his tongue making your hands tremble, lips parting as you want to hurriedly assure him that your feelings were real, they were real until suddenly, they weren’t, and now you don’t even know where they stand and what to do with them and the confusion on your insides.

“This is unbelievable…” he says, running his hands through his hair as he stands up from the chair he’s been sitting on for the last few minutes, walking across and back through the kitchen a few times before he continues, “all those months… You’ve been just lying straight to my face? What did I even do? Why- why do you- why do you suddenly not want to-?” he rambles, and his voice slowly starts to break as you can’t seem to push any other answer out of yourself, all words stolen from your tongue as you stare at him, just waiting until the moment is over and you can let your body relax.

And it’s not his fault. It never was, but suddenly, you’re too weak to tell him, too selfish to give him the answers, too small to be the bigger person and tell him that it’s you, it’s always been you and none of this is a problem he’s created.

“Why did you say yes, then? If you never wanted to get married?” he asks, halting in his steps as he looks dead at you, waiting for your answer.

You should’ve never said yes to him. But you did. And why?

Because you were scared of this exact moment happening sooner? Maybe it would’ve hurt him less if you declined right when he asked. Maybe it could’ve been saved. But now, you’re sure you made more damage than can be fixed.

“Great. Don’t talk to me. Amazing,” he snickers, closing his eyes tightly as a stray tear comes down his cheek, the one you try hard to not notice in fear of breaking down as well, because truthfully–

now is not your time to feel bad or feel sorry. It’s not your time to cry and make it about yourself, because it’s you who messed up. It’s you who made all of this mess.

Looking at you again, and this time, it feels like the last, the question falling off his lips makes you completely shut down and build up walls around yourself, for the weight of the guilt is too heavy and you can’t seem to carry it well this time.

“Do you even love me anymore?” he asks.

Tears falling off your cheeks, your lips pressed into a thin line as you look somewhere into the unknown– anywhere but his eyes– you give him the silent answer again, and that’s enough for him to nod at you with a choked-out ‘okay’ before he disappears out of the door, the rambling through your closet being a background noise to your crying.

And relief doesn’t come even when the door shuts behind him and you don’t get up and try to stop him from leaving and the clock starts ticking in your ears again, grounding you back to reality; relief doesn’t come even when you let your sobs overtake you and your eyes tiredly fall from your coffee cup to the groceries left on the kitchen table.

Staring outside of your window, you can’t seem to find energy to even make any sound, your sore throat reminding you to take a step back and take care of yourself, just like you did mere seconds ago, finally breaking free.

On December 2nd, when the snow fell for the first time this year, you broke Lee Jeno’s heart, and you don’t think you’ll ever forgive yourself.

You decide a walk is surely gonna clear your head– at least that’s what you decide to think when you put on your winter shoes and get out of your small, silent apartment with a loud sigh, the meeting point of your errand today brightly lit in your mind as you leave the car in the parking lot and shudder in the cold. 

The walk doesn’t clear your head, it makes you even more lost in your thoughts, it seems, but there’s no turning back when you’re already halfway there and you’re too lazy to get back and turn the engine of your little old car on, driving there instead. It seems like the consequences of your own actions leave you more miserable than content lately, and although you’re doing all of this for yourself, you feel like you’re unknowingly engaging in some sort of self-sabotage, and the fact that your body is frozen in the strong wind is only the tip of the iceberg of this topic.

After some time, you arrive, your nose runny from the condensation when you reach the heated interiors of the building, clearing your throat as you walk through the door of Mark Lee’s office, just like you would any other day, more often than not with your fiancé, sometimes alone. The man is currently waiting for you at his desk, his silly little journal open on the pages you know so well by now, the image hurting you to your core. 

“Y/N!” he greets you, confusion mirroring on his face when he notices you being alone, since this meeting was scheduled precisely on Jeno’s day off, so both of you could attend, “why are you alone?”

Not giving him a reply, instead walking over to the chair and settling deeper into the cushion, preparing yourself to break the news to him, the curious nature of the man shines through as he asks you hushed questions, a tiny hint of bitterness in his voice unknown to you.

“Does he have work again? Did he cancel?” he asks, prepared to give out an over-exaggerated sigh if you tell him that he’s right about his assumptions, but when you just chew on your cheek and avert your gaze away from him, and instead look everywhere across the pearl white room, he senses that there’s something wrong.

“Yeah, about that…” you mumble, shrugging. 

It’s now or never, you think to yourself– you went here for a reason unknown to you. Maybe you seeked comfort in the man that pushed you towards your decision, maybe you desire for someone to tell you that what you did was okay and the right thing to do. You could’ve just texted him you weren’t going to plan the wedding anymore, since there is none to happen, but you didn’t– you went here yourself, just to break the news to him face to face, expecting nothing and everything at once. It’s weird. Maybe you just, true to your fragile nature, need someone to look out for you when you feel so insanely guilty for doing something for yourself. Why that person is Mark Lee, you don’t know. Perhaps there is something that is pulling you to him, the comforting nature surrounding him being your safe haven in a time like this, making you so selfishly wish that after hearing you say it, he won’t let you down and look at you with defeat and disappointment.

“I- I called off the wedding,” you say, finally meeting his chocolate orbs with expectations, “and we sorta broke up, so I just- I just wanted to tell you that I won’t need your service anymore, but that I’m really thankful,” you add, nodding to prove your point.

The man in front of you is left startled, eyes wide as he searches for a hint of something– anything– on your face that would tell him if you’re okay and what led you to the decision, opening his mouth to talk to you about it, when you cut him off and add another thing, a sentence that breaks him and glues him together in one swift motion, leaving him speechless.

“Thank you for telling me that it was okay… to do that. And that it wasn’t late to call it off. It means the whole entire world to me, Mark, and I’ll never forget that,” you say, smiling hesitantly at the wedding planner, playing with your fingers in your lap, “I felt like I couldn’t make this decision, even though the idea of getting married to Jeno was breaking me, but your words really assured me.”

“That’s-” he stutters, clearly shocked. It’s not like he didn’t know– once again, he advised you to do so himself– but still, the reality of it is making him bewildered, true surprise raining over his face as he shakes his head to clear it, providing you with a more coherent response, “I’m- I’m glad you were able to do that. It’s- it’s so great you broke away from something you didn’t want for yourself, Y/N.”

Smiling, although a little shamefully, you avert your gaze from his intense eyes. “Thank you.”

“No, no, don’t thank me, I mean-” he rambles, his professional composure breaking for what feels like the first time, his figure looking so approachable right in this moment, “are you okay, though? It must have been hard.”

Shrugging, you wet your lips in a moment of thought. Are you okay? You’re not so sure. So instead of worrying him, you just mumble: “I will be,” with a soft nod, reassuring both yourself and everyone involved. Because, in reality, even though it’s insanely hard and the moments without your fiancé feel foreign, you feel free. You feel true to yourself, and that’s the most important thing about it all. And as long as that is preserved, you will be okay one day.

Maybe your and Jeno’s ways parted just because your ideals were different. Maybe the difference between the two was so big you couldn’t get over the height; but that’s okay. Life happened this way, and there’s not much to do about it now. Only to get used to it.

“Okay,” he says, gazing at you.

You’d like to stay longer– the truth is, this is the first time in the last few weeks that you’ve felt relaxed, content, even– and it’s hard to let go of this feeling. Mark looks at you with soft eyes, as if he was scared that a more strong look may break you, and in a moment of selfishness, you think that although this chapter of your life is over, Mark is the one you don’t want to lose out of it. You wonder if he feels the same. You want him to feel the same.

But once the moment is over and you realize your stay no longer has a meaning to it, probably just wasting Mark’s time, you nod to yourself as you stand up from your place in the chair, paying goodbye to the place you’re most likely never going to visit again. “I’ll get going, then. Once again, thanks… for everything, Mark.” 

The man shoots to his feet, hesitantly walking over to you, meeting your expecting eyes. Clearing his throat, he reaches to you with wide arms, and your body moves into his hold almost automatically, selfishness hoarding over you once again as he hugs you tight into his body, perhaps with the same amount of bittersweet feeling you feel on the inside right now, the firm grip around your waist making you relax into his touch. Burrowing your nose into his neck, you forget all about Jeno for a while, the scent of Mark’s cologne overtaking your senses, everything, past and future involved, disappearing when the noisy thought in your brain keeps rambling how you need to remember the way his arms feel around your body forever, you have to imprint his scent into your brain until the end of your time, because this is your last opportunity you have to experience it. 

“I’m very proud of you,” he mumbles, one of his hands running over your back and up into your hair, a protective head pat mendling your fragile, broken body into his touch. 

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, though,” he says.

“It doesn’t- it doesn’t feel appropriate.”

And Mark understands. It feels like he’s the only one that does. And although it may feel like there’s no one but him in this world that’s on your side right now, the reality of it comforts you, because that’s enough.

Breaking away from his hold, you pay him a goodbye as you walk towards the door, not turning around as you escape the room, because you think the image of him, knowing it’s the last time you’ll see him, would break you perhaps the most.

Your journey isn’t over, though. Walking through the countless labyrinths of the town, the weather outside making your bones cold as you stride for your next destination with utter determination, you know that once you complete this task, it’s finally over. The weight of it crushes you, but you know that in a few, you’ll feel completely free, and that’s why you keep going, despite it being insanely hard.

Your eyes are met with the view of a house you know too well; the windowsills greet you with a glassy shine, the sad trees in the backyard reminding you of your university days. You’re met with Lee Jeno’s childhood home, and by the looks of his car in the driveway, you were correct about the suspicions of his whereabouts. He had nowhere else to go, after all, and although you feel a little shameful about the fact, you don’t let it get to you.

Walking over to the small gate of the land of Jeno’s parents’ house, a red post box greets you, your final destination in reach. Rummaging through your purse, you take out a white envelope containing your engagement ring, and while opening the small box, you pay goodbye to the latest chapter of your life, putting the envelope in. 

Taking one last look at the house, you imagine Jeno on the driveway, and you wave at his figure with an apology on your tongue. 

Maybe one day, he’ll understand you. And maybe he won’t.

You can’t be mad at him for the emotions he has every right to feel. You acknowledge that you were wrong for leading him on for so long. But still, you hope that one day, he’ll be able to forgive you. 

And as if your fate wanted you to have the last bit of karma you’ve earned, it starts raining as you walk home. On any other day, you’d despite the shower, but today, you think you can get through it. You think this is your prize, and you’ll keep paying it forever, until you no longer feel the guilt of everything you’ve done.

Putting yourself first breaks hearts sometimes. But still, you think it’s worth it in the end.

Maybe one day, you’ll forgive yourself.

When your body hits the cold sheets of the bed that isn’t yours, stumbling to your designated side of the mattress, it seems, you wonder if the heater in his apartment broke again and you’re going to spend another night shivering until the tiredness doesn’t make your thoughts turn off and your eyelids get heavy with sleep. Dressed in your usual pajamas and staring out of the window, watching the stars shyly glimmer, the moon kisses your cheeks in a solemn feeling of a weird nostalgia you can’t seem to shake off no matter how hard you try. The feeling, however, is no longer as uncomfy as it was the last time. It used to make your bones itch, it used to make you try to battle the feeling, even though there was no use– it’s always been too strong and you were too weak; too tired to keep fighting.

A huff lands into your ear, a muffled sigh that makes you slightly open your eyes and still in your movements. He joined the bed just a few minutes prior to you, telling you he’ll wait for you to be done with your shower, but it seems like he fell asleep in the short time period, making you feel momentarily bad for waking him. 

A strong arm slings itself over your middle, engulfing you in a tight back-hug. His body grows closer to you, shuffling himself to stick himself as close to your body as possible, a heavy breath reaches your ear. Your hand automatically reaches for his one laying on your stomach, looking over at him to see his eyes flutter open and a soft smile glazing his features. “Ready for sleep?” he asks, and with a gentle nod, you watch him get more comfy in the sheets of his bed.

Continuing to watch him, his eyes close on themselves after a short while, his eyelashes kiss his cheekbones, sharp edges of his face contrasting with his overall soft demeanor making your heart swell with the thankfulness you feel because of his proximity. 

Looking back over to the window, eyes briefly catching the time glimmering on the alarm clock sitting on his bedside table, you bite down on your lips and try to battle the smile that’s dangerously trying to spread across your face. His body pressing itself into your back is warm, trying hard to provide you with a sense of home and safety. This time around, it works. It always works out with him.

A sigh cuts out of your throat.

“Everything okay?” he asks, and it makes you snicker. You’ve never felt more content and satisfied in your whole entire life, yet, he dares to ask you this question, still uncertain. Nodding, you reply to him, sureness coating your words.

“More than okay.”

Your body slowly heats up in his hold– he’s like your portable heater, after all, since he likes his bedroom to be a little colder than you prefer, he took it upon himself to always have you glued inside of his arms whenever you sleep over at his place; to not let you catch cold, he says, but you secretly just think he loves to fall asleep with you in his hold.

Just a little over a year ago, with a different man in your sheets, you weren’t able to fall asleep with the weight of your overthinking. You rethought your decision over and over again, not ready to leave yourself to get a final conclusion, even though it was always somewhere there, in the back of your brain.

Now, though, your brain is at ease, relaxing after running laps through various scenarios in your brain– your body is soundly tucked in under the soft sheets of the bed, finding a sweet haven in a person you never imagined you’d let into your life. 

You no longer wake up in guilt and fear. You no longer startle awake at night, too scared to look at your fiancé on the other side of your bed; because the chapter is now behind you, the war is over.

And you learn to forgive yourself. All by Mark’s side. 

If it wasn’t for the actions of your past, you would’ve never met him, after all. Everything in your life has some sort of order, and while it wasn’t a happy journey, at least you’re left with nothing but experience and comfort in your heart.

Almost like every day, much to the contrast of your state a little over a year ago, you reach out for Mark’s hand again, pressing a soft kiss to it as you move it closer to your lips. Almost like every day, while you fall asleep to the scent of his shower gel and the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you to sweet dreams, you’re thankful for every day with him, 

because he was the one that brought you peace again, taking care of you each and every day, carefully catching your heart when you let it fall freely into the unknown.

[brandogenius]

Hey could you do boygenius x sick younger artist reader, maybe it’s kind of the beginning of the tour so ya is still kind of shy and intimated by them so they try to hide it until they just can’t anymore and they boys kind of watch of them and take care of them and it becomes like a bonding experience , super excited for you to write the boygenius x ya reader fic series I love ur page and am always checking to see if you’ve updated ❤️❤️

EEEE!!!! i had a lot of fun with this one!! i’m sorry if it’s really long i got carried away!!

consider this part 1 of the young artist au :D an introduction

‼️RPF‼️

“fresh soup”

the boys & younger!artist reader!

Part 2 here!

(not proofread!!)

word count: 1,969

not even two days into the tour and you were in your assigned bunk with the sniffles. as if the universe has different plans for you. you were excited for the tour but having stressed the entire week hoping it all went to plan.

yet here you were. tissue box propped up against your side as you scrolled through social media. the tour bys was on a bumpy road causing you to take deep breaths. it wasn’t helping.

you were the opening act for boygenius. a famous supergroup full of talented musicians. it was your first ever tour and you were nervous. you spent the first day travelling from where you, phoebe, lucy and julien just settled down into their home for the next couple of months.

“kid” startled out of your thoughts, you heard a small tap on the side of the bunk.

“mhm?” you pulled the small curtain open meeting eye to eye with julien. she looked at you with a look of worry and concern

“thought we lost you back at the buss stop. haven’t seen you come out since we drove off. you doing ok?” julien crossed her arms, glancing over you, taking note of the tissue box and scattered tissues in your bed.

“feeling homesick?”

“i’m fine” you avoided her stare, taking interest in the other bunk behind her. your voice was hoarse. sore to swallow and talk. it had you wincing slightly.

“shit- are you sick already?” julien leaned forward a bit, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. “i said im fine” you frowned.

“doesn’t sound like you’re fine. you want to come out into the lounge and watch some tv with us? instead of being cooped up in here all day” the tattooed woman gave an offer. a small smile on her face. you considered the options. whilst you weren’t that close to the boys or julien you were a bit hesitant on taking up the offer.

weighing the pros and cons felt like it was more cons than pros at this point. what if you got the boys sick? they’d have to cancel the show. you couldn’t afford to get them sick. you’d rather seclude yourself into the safety of your little bunk to wallow in pity and sickness.

“i’m fine- i think id like to stay here, please?” your hand was reaching up to pull the curtains shut when julien nodded. “you sure kid? phoebes makin’ breakfast you want some?”

the thought of having breakfast made you frown. you weren’t sure. you appreciated the thought of julien offering it to you but politely declined. you could make your own breakfast if you wanted to. you didn’t want the boys to use more of what they had themselves. that wasn’t something you wanted to tell julien though.

“i packed some breakfast bars if i need any- thank you though” you gave julien a nod, quickly closing the curtain this time with a small sigh. you listened carefully to julien’s footsteps walking out the door and into the lounge. muffled talking can be heard behind the door. you sighed a little in relief, sneezing a bit as you rolled over onto your other side and shut your eyes for a bit.

unfortunately, people had other plans. the door to the bunk room opened quickly. hurried footsteps made their way down the hallway. you prayed silently, hoping they didn’t stop at your bunk but they did.

“nu uh- absolutely not!” your curtain swung open. you squinted your eyes with a glare, turning over to be met strands of platinum silver hair. phoebe bends down slightly to meet your eyes. “you’re having breakfast, get up and come on” she nodded her head.

“i’m not gonna let you rot away in this ugly-ass bunk. as tour bus buddies, we need to eat and plan for the tour, so come on” phoebe walked down the hallway, humming a tune to herself. an apron was hugging her waist. you stared in confused for a second, watching as she swing a fork around like a microphone.

with a sigh, you flung yourself out of the bunk. your hair was messy and your eyes were dark with bags under your eyes. you wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep but unfortunately, the three musicians in the other room had different plans for you.

“and she has finally left the bunk. seems like the first time we’re finally meeting you!” you quietly opened the door into the small lounge area. it wasn’t big but it wasn’t small either. there was a fridge with cabinets and a sink. on the other side there was a couch with a pull out table.

lucy and julien were sat at the couch. phoebe was hunched over the counter. three pots of cup noodles were opened on the table. a fourth one was being prepared. you took a seat closest to lucy, looking at the tv playing some random cartoon.

“see this bitch” lucy nudged you with her elbow and nodded towards phoebe. “the only woman i know to wear an apron while making cup noodles because she says ‘it’s needed’ needed for what pheebs?” lucy chuckled.

“it’s true- don’t listen to her” phoebe settled the four cups on the small table, taking a seat beside you. “she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. i absolutely need an apron for making these” she twirled the noodles around her fork.

“why?”

“i wanted to look like a cute sexy housewife while cooking you guys some breakfast- damn, you guys don’t appreciate shit in this house” you listened and ate quietly as phoebe and lucy took into a debate. you looked up, catching julien’s eyes as she rolled her eyes jokingly at the other two.

“so i was told you’re sick? little birdie told me you sound like shit” you look up at lucy as she stared down at you. you continued to twirl your noodles. “you could say that yeah”

“you’re lucky tour isn’t for another two days. you can rest and take plenty of fluids. make sure your vocals are good too.” the taller woman added as she pointed her fork towards you.

“julien is making soup tonight. should help. something warm too” phoebe added

“how are you gonna make soup in a tour bus?” you looked at the three in confusion. maybe there was some type of technique you didn’t even think of. but clearly seeing there isn’t anywhere for a stove or oven you were stuck for ideas.

“our last tour we bought a portable stove. a lifesaver if you want something cooked up, instead of living off pot noodles and snacks. portable stove and a pot and it’s just like at home”

“ahh” you replied. that was interesting. your first time on a tour bus, you wouldn’t have thought about it. you quickly ate the rest of your noodles and leaned back, tugging your legs to your chest. you ended up settling into a peaceful quietness as you and the boys watched spongebob on the overhead tv. you weren’t too interested but it was something to pass the time. you were called out to eat with the boys- you didn’t know if you were able to go back to your bunk even if you so wanted to. you didn’t want to sound or appear rude-

“-yeah?” you shook your head, blinking a bit. three pairs of eyes stared back at you. “huh?” feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks, you quickly looked away, wishing the tour bus would open up and spit you out

“i said, you don’t need to hang out with us here if you don’t want to. we’re not stopping you from going back to the bunk” julien nodded her head. her eyes were kind and soft. there was no anger or upset in them. it made you unclench your shoulders and let out a deep breath.

“i’m just going to sleep for a bit” you whispered. phoebe quickly stood up, making space for you to leave.

“that’s totally fine dude. take all the rest you need. we will be calling you for dinner though” phoebe placed a hand on your shoulder and have it a small squeeze. you smiled slightly, ducking out of the room and back to your bunk.

-

“knock knock” you opened your eyes to the familiar voice outside the curtains. lucy stood at the bunk this time, moving the fabric aside with a small smile. “dinner time, we’d give it to you here but don’t wanna spill it all over the one place you sleep. wanna come eat with us in the lounge?” you nodded your head, hopping out of the bunk silently.

“just have some soup and go back to bed” lucy placed a hand in your shoulder and led you back into the lounge.

“evening, sleepyhead. get good sleep?” phoebe sat on the couch this time. laptop on the table and feet kicked up on the other side of the couch. julien was hovering over the small portable stove on the countertop. the smell of tomato soup filled the air.

“have a seat- phoebe get your damn legs off the couch, let them sit down” julien turned around, wacking phoebe with her hand as she grumbled. “personal space doesn’t exist with this one around” lucy gestured for you to sit down first, sandwiched between phoebe to your left and lucy to your right.

“how are you enjoying bus life so far?” phoebe sat cris crossed on the furnature, typing away at her laptop. you held your phone in your hand, switching it on to check the time. 5:34pm.

“it’s fine. it’s unusual- probably because it’s my first time on a tour bus” you replied, glancing at phoebes laptop. she seemed to be replying to emails.

“i’d say the last time you were on a tour bus must’ve been for high school? field trips or whatever they are” julien speaks from countertop. “you did graduate couple months ago right?” you nodded to confirm julien’s statement

“i feel so old now” lucy leaned back on the couch. “there’s like.. an actual child on tour with us it’s like we’re babysitting”

“i mean, i just turned 19 like a couple of months so i’m not really a kid anymore” you said with a small smile.

“oh god that’s not a child. that’s a whole fucking teenager” phoebe laughed. “or young adult. either way i feel like a senior citizen- feel like you’re gonna ask me what the great depression is like or something” this has the whole tour bus laughing.

“alright, pipe down meemaw. you’ll get your dinner and then you can watch your game shows later” julien joked, grabbing the ladle and filling the dishes.

“fresh soup from the portable stove coming up. careful- bowls are hot” julien placed the dishes down onto the table one by one. cloth covering her hands as a substitute for an oven glove.

you stared at the soup with a small smile. “thank you” julien shrugged casually “don’t even worry about it, kid”

you listened to the boys start random conversations. they’d always include you in them. it made you feel happy. you were happy to be included.

“would you rather - listen ok important question” phoebe swung her fork around carelessly as she started the conversation . lucy frowned “can you not maybe try spill soup everywhere?” phoebe gave lucy the middle finger. lucy giving her back back. you laughed loudly at the interaction unraveling before you

“ok before i was RUDLEY interrupted. would you rather be a worm or an ant. i feel like this really determines our friendship with you, kid”

you sat there with wide eyes for a moment.

“what type of question is that?”

“SEE? THANK YOU”

“OH FUCK YOU GUYS”

maybe it wasn’t that bad hanging out with the boys. you’d definitely be doing this more often.

[buffporcupine]

death note headcanons

because i know my death note mutuals aren’t getting what they wanted from me

light

-can crack his elbows the way one would crack their knuckles

-probably had to do a musical elective in his first year of middle school and chose guitar cause he thought it would be easy but it wasn’t.

-the type of song he really enjoys is very specific. going to hell yet i tried so so hard to please god song. i missed my only chance song. why wasn’t i like the other kids song. thrones playlist. i could elaborate but i won’t

-as for sexuality, i see him as not wanting to put a label on whatever he is in theory but in practice being some type of bispec (probably berriromantic) for romantic attraction and then somewhere on the asexual spectrum for sexual attraction.

-as for gender i see him as agender whose not really in labeling himself as anything when it comes to sexuality and gender.

-agender but probably 100% fine with being super male presenting. he just wants to keep out of gender as a convo and that’s great. good for him

-no!!!!! i refuse to say this mf is aromantic (because it’s not accurate and it’d be an insult to aromantic people to say he’s aro)!!!!!

-just because he manipulated misa and kiyomi into doing his bidding and didn’t love them doesn’t immediately make him aro. i’m sure he could have found someone if he wanted to, and he could have loved them if he was with them to love them, but he wasn’t with them to love them he was with them to use them.

misa

-half belgian half japanese. her parents met in belgium while her father was on vacation.

-also im torn bcos i wanna write an au where misa is mexican and that’s it everything else is the same as canon but i’m pretty sure that’s just me wanting her to be even more Like Me (tm)

-speaks a little bit of english, way more french, and obvi japanese. finds linguistics interesting but doesn’t have enough time to research it that thoroughly

-likes being short and “small” small girl aesthetic i guess but sometimes wishes she had longer legs so she could wear skirts w/o looking silly and short

-panromantic does not see gender at all when becoming attracted to someone. i see her as def on the ace spectrum, maybe something like demisexual or aegosexual. could be me projecting dunno.

-she’s probably dated both girls and boys before

-would NOT break up with someone in a rude way or just dump them. she’d put a lot of effort into an apology and explanation into why.

-if she met miu iruma they’d be best friends. sorry i bring danganronpa into everything guys

-can we please just appeciate mexican misa for a second. she’s cooking sopa de fideo for the task and being the bilingual hot girl we all needed

-mexican misa

-as for her music taste she probably listens to upbeat english language music and sappy love songs. “there is a light that never goes out” and “melt with you” sound like go-tos for her sorry. i could also see her being a bimbo pop ayesha + britney manson girlie though

-tbh whatever your race/ethnicity is you could project it onto misa and it’d work. i love it. anyway d d d d d d d did i say m m m mexican misa

-i think she’d love love love getting her hair done!!! sensitive scalp mf but she’d still love getting her hair done

-mexican misa visiting mexico and getting braids and cute clothes and her fave candy

-was not a theatre kid. sorry guys but her middle and high school didn’t offer theatre 😔😔

lawliet

-chronically dehydrated just because he forgets to drink water. he tries to drink water and always gets afraid of developing kidney / liver problems but he just keeps forgetting. what the fuck L

-soup stan i think he’d love some good soup. soup stan x soup cooker (lawmane)

-i think you could have a really deep convo about anything with L. if you’re passionate about anything he’ll just listen and he’ll talk to you about what he’s passionate about to. he loves to think and would def entertain you with a convo about whether a hot dog is a sandwich or something dumb like that you know.

-he’s a thinker he just loves discussions

-has a british accent when speaking english bcos watari and lived in england you know. he thinks british accents in english sound good tho and LOVES making fun of how silly new york accents are (me too bro. me too)

-if he went to middle school or the japanese/british equivalent of it, he’d def be the type to choose some weird ass elective fucking creative writing instead of the “normal” guitar, choir, band, orchestra and shit

[antiwhores]

My dock - human!Bakugou x Mermaid!Reader

Part 1?

Part 2

Part 3

Y/n, a curious mermaid with a knack for trouble meets a human named Bakugou Katsuki. Bakugou, a curious human also with a knack for trouble meets a mermaid named y/n. Interspecies relationships- and even friendships are not allowed in the Mer-creature kingdom. And if people found out Mermaids are real then Y/n would be fish food. Love is hard as fuck.

Quirkless au cause im not tryna deal with him rn, eventual smut, near death experience, suggestive themes, violence, multiple parts.

Sorry ive been gone, im depressed and dont find joy in anything anymore LOL

You first met the blonde human when you were swimming near the shore. You obviously went supposed to be doing that but you were curious. You wanted to see humans even though the danger they hold could kill you.

He was walking on a bridge- well, more like stomping. He looked absolutely pissed, red face with steam practically radiating off of him. He was mumbling things under his breath that you couldn’t make out.

You left after a while of watching him, the sun was setting and you had to go home and catch fish.

The next time you saw him he was lounging by a doc in your special spot. Your beach was in the woods, secluded off unless you knew where you were going. There was a round, yet deep swimming area that sparkled a beautiful light blue. There was also a waterfall that was pretty high up. It was a magical place that you were glad to claim.

You watched from behind a big rock as he fed the ducks. He had a whole loaf of bread that he would break off into small pieces to aggressively throw at the ducks.

You called a duck over with a water wave made by your tail. Most mer-creature could talk to a selective few of animal.

“Who is he?” You whispered. The duck cackled, “Just some human boy. He comes here to feed us every day.” You asked for his name but the duck just flapped his wings. “I think his name was Katsu? I dont know, I’ll try to listen in.”

You thanked the duck and let him go fight for his snack.

Katsu? You thought that name rolled nicely off the tongue.

You continued to watch him from secluded areas for the next 3 weeks. You almost got caught a few times. He would hear you speak a little too loud or make too big of a splash and he would yell “WHOS THERE?” It started you enough each time to not come look for a whole day.

One day when you went up to look for him he wasn’t alone. He was at beach side of it this time with a couple other humans. One with red hair, one with green hair, pink hair, and brown hair. You picked up on their names after a while. Kirishima, Midoriya/Deku (?), Mina, and Uraraka. Later on some more named Kaminari and Iida showed up.

You watched them play around and practically beat each other up. Humans are so weird.

Apparently, Katsu lost a bet. Well, you learned his name was also Bakugou, Katsuki, and Kacchan. You’ll stick to Katsu since theres so many.

Kirishima dared Bakugou to jump off of the water fountain. You almost yelped out a protest once Bakugou agreed. It wasn’t safe! There were weeds at the bottom which would grab you and never let go! You had been working on getting rid of them all but there were still a few left.

And just as you thought, once he jumped he was stuck. You watched as he struggled under the grip of the weeds. You couldn’t just let him die! Before you knew it you were swimming over there full speed.

He looked at you threw wide eyes, you could tell he was loosing his breath. He tried to say something but only bubbles came out. You grabbed his face ad signaled for him to open his mouth. He did almost immediately, he must’ve been getting desperate.

You shoved your mouth against his, blowing air into his mouth which he greedily sucked up. You weren’t supposed to do that and you knew you’d be questioned and scolded for even letting a human know you existed. It was called the eternal breath. It allowed him to breath and talk under water with out it being drowned out for up to five minutes depending on how much you blew.

You signaled for him to breath and he gave you a crazy look. His cheeks were flustered and he didn’t know what to do. You hoped that wasn’t his first kiss or something, even though it was yours. You leaned into his ear and whispered, “Trust me Katsu.”

A wave of relief hit you once he did it. He looked at you in bewilderment, “What the fuck?! What the FUCK?!” You flinched but still made you way down to his feet. “You have a fucking tail?! What the fuck is going on?!” You shook your head, “No I don’t.” “What the FUCK!?”

You cut him free with your nails and signaled for him to go. He shook his head, “No! What kind of shit is this?! You have a tail!” You groaned, started to blush at the way he looked at you. He was even more handsome up close like this. “Either you leave or your gonna die in 1 minute once my breath wears out.”

You heard him yell after you once you began to swim away. You hid behind the entrance just to make sure he got up okay. You were on the verge of tears, you could get in so much trouble. What if he’s a bad guy and he’s gonna call his human hunters on you?

You practically gasped when he decided not to tell anyone of you. His friends crowded him, some in tears asking if he was okay. He just swatted them away and told them to fuck off. On that note you left.

You didn’t come back for 2 weeks. You were scared of coming back to traps and spears. The ducks reported to you instead. He has been coming every single day and staying for not just his usual 10 minutes but 3 hours. He sits there studying the water and calling out to any sudden movement from nature.

You couldn’t help your curiosity after that and the next day you showed up to watch him. You watched as he ate from his basket of what you think is called… Fruits? He lounged on the dock with no shirt on. His skin was tanned and golden.

You practically jumped once he called out to you. “Hey!” You dove back behind the rock. He rose to his feet, “No, no, no! Come back!” You slowly peaked behind the rock. He smirked, whispering “I knew you were real” before holding out a red fruit. “I got this for you.”

You came out behind the rock more to study the apple. You hissed at him thinking it was poisonous. He gave you an offended look, “What’re you scared of a fucking apple? Look.” He took a huge bite out of the thing and chewed. You watched closely as he swallowed it. “See?”

You sighed and finally just swam over to him. He sat down right off the edge and held the apple out to you. You quickly grabbed it and swam as fast as you could behind the rock.

You took a suspicious bite, it was… delicious! He chuckled as your face lit up. You took another bite, giving him a quizzical look. “Come here, ill give you another one.” You hesitantly swan over to him. But just as you were about to grab the apple he yanked it above his head. “Tell me your name.”

You glared at him, crossing your arms around your chest. “You can have all my fruits if you tell me your name.” You thought about it for a second. You could be hunted down for this. And you could be in deep shit if the council found out. But for some reason, you trusted this man.

A loud huff came out of your mouth, “y/n.”

[aerodaltonimperial]

hello katy. i had just the most fucked up thought about your split jack au and ive never used tumblr before but im learning how to send an ask right now because i NEED to know what you think of this.

does julia… tell jungle boy that he’s going to forget? those five years that he goes back and changes for the better— surely julia knows that when the time comes, the jungle boy that got sent back to 2019 and changed jack’s world for the better will become nothing but a memory that everyone but jack himself will be aware of. and if julia tells him… lets him know that his time is limited… does jungle boy not do it all anyways?

does he make every decision in this new timeline knowing that he’s setting up a life for the jack who deserves it most and not himself? when the days tick down and he knows he’s running out of time… does he leave notes for jack? does he leave notes for darby? how do you explain to the person that matters most in your life that one day you’re going to wake up and be replaced with someone a thousand times more scared and broken, and you need to love him just as much as you love me now, because he’s me, and i love him too?

im sorry you fucked my whole world up and i hate you and ive been crying about it for days. im sending you an edible arrangements. fucking god damn it man

Yo, you just fucking CHANGED MY WORLD with this ask. Like, this.... this is the stuff I legitimately DID NOT LET MYSELF THINK ABOUT when I was writing that because this is so much. Jesus CHRIST. I am... I am sitting with this because I am going to be really honest with you, I don't know the answers. The only thing I can say that I leaned on during this was the traveler's immunity concept: that essentially, the person doing the changing is immune from shifting when everything else does. And it's that immunity that all of this hinges upon. 2024 Jack has the immunity, and he is the original remnant that will remain.

Would Julia tell Jack, the Jack that is going to become nothing once the timelines merge? I presume that, eventually, she would. But what he DOES with that information? Oh my god. I don't even know. This ask has fundamentally changed me as a person LOL. I imagine... in a perfect world, that Jack does leave notes for himself. Because in the end, that's who he is doing this for: a better future, even though he won't be there to experience it once the right time hits. He got a gift. And he is giving one back. A huge, monumental gift that he will never get to see through to the end. But that's what so much of that fic really ended up being about, in the end: forgiving and loving yourself. He would want himself to have SOMETHING to figure his way around, even if it's just important dates. Anniversaries. When events happened. When things DIDN'T happen.

Would he warn Darby? Honestly, I'm less clear on that one. Because at his core, Jack knows that would change them, in his present. And if he had limited time, I don’t know. Would he be able to tell Darby, knowing that it would fundamentally change everything? Would he be able to say, hey, I'm not going to be here anymore, at least not the way you knew me? Man. I don't know. How do you warn someone that you are going to disappear, but that part of you will remain? And that part isn't going to understand that love should be soft? Or that you don't have to fear letting someone in? Or that people, deep down, care about you? How do you prepare someone for that?

This is the most fucking horrible and amazing ask I have ever received. I'm going to frame it on my wall. I'm going to be thinking about this for days. Holy shit, man. As for the notes that Jack could leave for himself, for when he's gone? Let him cook for you, it makes him happy. When you argue, he'll need to go blow off steam before he comes back. I never told him about what happened in that jump, but I also didn't lie when I told him he was all of the firsts.

You told me that love wasn't real. Well, he loves you, and it's the realest fucking thing in the world.

[m00nie-m00]

Oh Sh!t

modern au!Scaramouche x gn! reader

🌷 Sypnosis - you fall in love with your best friends worst enemy

Warnings: cursing, train creeps, adult jokes, murderous intentions, time jumps

💌 this gonna be a three part story! (Maybe more idk)

1 . 2 . 3

"He is so infuriating! I make ONE mistake and he reprimands me for it like hello?? It isn't a life threatening mistake either its like getting mad at someone for spelling a word wrong with a PENCIL" your best friend, Lumine ranted as you both prepared dinner.

"Calm down you might think your finger is a carrot and chop it" you chuckled as you prepared the stove.

"I'd like to think his fingers are carrots and chop it" she grumbled back.

You laughed at her comment and shook your head, "wow my sweetheart lumine what has gotten into you? This boy must be one pain in the ass if you of all people are out for his blood" you joked, looking back at her. She didn't seem as humorous as you at the moment.

"I know! He's just that bad! Me, im the most helpful girl in the world- and that's not exaggerating," she paused to proudly smirk. "but he oh my god the only thing im gonna help him with is burying himself 6 feet underground" she gritted her teeth, slamming the knife harder into the chopping board.

You nervously chuckled, moving towards Lumine and placing your hand on top of hers. Stopping the knife in place.

"Lumine I think i'll do the chopping"

"Okay, I'll start cooking then."

"No... i think you need to sit this one down, safety reasons"

-- <3 --

You boarded the train on the way home, unfortunately, your classes ended at the same time rush hour began. The train was packed with people, and you had to stand in the very middle of the crowd while holding on to the hanging strap.

You clutched your bag tightly to your side to avoid getting robbed, keeping a close eye on your belongings. Train rides were rarely enjoyable at this hour, and sometimes you'd wait for a less crowded train to come by so you wouldn't have to be so cautious of everything. Today though you had to get home as soon as possible, so you unfortunately didn't have a choice.

You felt a hand brush the side of your thigh, instantly freezing up you looked at the direction you felt it. There were a few people stood beside you so you couldn't pinpoint who the hand belonged to.

It could've been an accident, you thought, taking a deep breath to try and relax.

But then it happened again. This time the hand stayed by the side of your thigh a little longer. You weren't gonna take any chances so you quickly moved away, harshly bumping backs with someone as you did so.

"oh shit! i'm so sorry" you apologized, turning around to face the person you bumped into. He looked like a boy your age, wearing a stylish black outfit. He had bluish-purple hair that was styled in an interesting yet suiting haircut choice, and he had deep violet eyes that you would find beautiful if he wasn't glaring at you with them at that moment.

"there was a creep at my last spot i had to move away-" you rambled, fiddling with your fingers nervously. You furrowed your brows when he looked away from you and out the window he was stood beside.

ok well that's that I guess, you shrugged. Turning to face away when he said something that stopped you.

"hold on to the hanging strap the next stop is coming" he flatly stated, moving his hand to the side to provide space for yours.

"no it's okay-!" you said, knowing that if you held on to the strap your hands would brush. heh brushing hands with a hot guy your age doesn't sound that bad.

"I said hold on to it." he grabbed your wrist and raised your arm so your hand can grab the strap. As soon as you wrapped your fingers around it his hand let you go before instantly grabbing on to your shoulder as the train made an abrupt stop.

You yelped as your body jerked forward slightly, without his hand on your shoulder you would've crashed into him.

"you didn't give yourself time to prepare for the stop. how often do you ride a train?" he asked judgingly, pulling his hand away from your shoulder and shoving it into his pocket.

"look a lot has happened in this train in the spam of 3 minutes okay" You huffed, pressing your lips together as he laughed.

"too much for your little brain to handle?" he said, tilting his head to the side. What kind of comment was that?

You furrowed your brows, an unamused look on your face. "what's your name?" you asked. "why should i tell you?" he answered. "damn that's a stupid name" you replied sarcastically. "well, what's your name then?" he mockingly said. "better than yours" "that name is even stupider"

-- <3 --

"you met a cute guy on a train, had an actual interaction with him, physical touch too and you didn't give him your number, your actual name or like anything?!" Lumine exclaimed, shaking your shoulders aggressively as the two of you sat on your bed.

"well he didn't give me his actual name either!" you defended, "... which i guess isn't a good thing either UGH" you collapsed backwards, looking up at the ceiling. "There goes my chance in an epic collage love story"

Lumine grabbed your hands and pulled you up, you slouched limply and stared at her as she grinned. "your taking that train same time every time you go home"

"what?! but i hate rush hourrrr" you groaned, letting your back fall backwards only to be stopped by Lumine who pulled you back in place.

"okay but from what you shared it seems he's used to using the train sooo, who knows you might bump into him" she teased, giggling excitingly. Who knows what fictional love stories were brewing in her head.

You rolled your eyes, though the thought of it actually working lingered at the back of your mind. On the other hand you knew that if you wished for something to happen it never really does. So in that logic, you are never going to see him ever again.

"it's never gonna happen lumine I'm just gonna put myself in unnecessary danger" you mumbled, sighing defeatedly.

Lumine pouted before letting go of your hands and getting off your bed. "stop believing" she said as she exited your bedroom door.

your head jerked upward and your brows furrowed, like a deer caught in headlights. "what?!" you shouted at her, hoping she'd hear.

"STOP BELIEVING"

-- <3 --

You couldn't stop believing.

For the past week you've been riding the train home at that horrendous time just to try and bump into the boy again. you would look around and delusionally think some random guy with the same figure as him is him, like an idiot.

You got off the train but instead of taking the rout home you stopped by a cat cafe that newly opened. you liked cats, cats make you feel better. Drinking a nice warm drink while petting a cat sounds nice.

You entered the cafe and was greeted with a warm but colorful atmosphere and lots and lots of cat, or paw shaped decorations.

You order yourself a drink and a slice of blueberry cheesecake, sitting down on one of the tables closest to where all the cats were.

a black cat approached you meowing as she brushed herself against your leg. "hi there lovely" you smiled, bending down to pet the cat. The cat nuzzled into your touch and your smile grew even wider. Cats made your insides feel fuzzy.

You picked up the cat and placed it on your lap, stroking its fur as your other hand took a look at the tag on her collar. "it's nice to meet you berry" you cooed, scratching the back of her ear.

After a few minutes of petting berry and a few more cats while also trying to eat some cake the bell by the door chimed and you looked up to see who had entered.

beautiful deep violet eyes.

[connieluvsr]

ONE OF THE GIRLS | part 1

pairing: (electric) guitarist!jungkook x singer!reader(f)

genre: band au, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

summary: when your main guitarist gets sick and can’t perform at your show, you get help from someone unexpected.

warnings: swearing and some making out, hot jk:)), drinking, mention of drugs, smoking, slight smut.

a/n: my first story!! hope you’ll enjoy it, i thought of it while listening to one of the girls by the weeknd, jennie, lily rose depp and i was like hmm i think i have an idea)) anyways i have some more works but i dont really have ideas for what to happen next in them😭 enjoy!! Also part 2 is gonna be CRAZY and much better, please wait a bit!!

_________________________________________

“i’m so so so so sorry.” ander sighs and falls back on the couch. “i feel like im disappointing you.”

you shrug, placing your hands into your scalp and gently pulling your hair. “it’s not your fault, i just…” you pause for a bit. “don’t know what i’ll do, it’s over.”

ander gets up and rubs your shoulder. “hey don’t say that, it’s not! you still have time to find someone who can replace me.”

you touch his hand and smile, you knew he really is sorry, but you can’t just try acting fine when you’re not. you dreamed of this since forever, having people come somewhere just to hear you sing. you were the duo everyone knew, he was your guitarist and you were the singer, that’s it, no one else.

you thought you’d find someone to replace him, and you did, actually, but they’re not good enough.

“i’ll just go, it’s getting late, take care hm?” i say while taking my jacket from the hanger.

“bri.. come on, don’t be like that.” he goes after you and takes your arm.

“like what?” you ask with a curious face, thinking what could he possibly say.

he hesitates for a moment before speaking, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “Like you’re giving up! Like… Like you don’t even care anymore. There has to be someone who can help us.. i mean help you.”

you sigh, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. “who? we’ve already contacted many musicians and they all sucked. none of them clicked. our sound was perfect, and that’s all”

Ander’s gaze softens, his voice gentle as he speaks “what about… zac’s friend?” he suddenly jumps. “he plays electric guitar right? maybe he could step in.”

you raise an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. “yeah i know him. even if he does, he’s Zac’s friend, we barely know him. Also he’s a total ass, he would never agree.” you’re both silent for a moment. “wait! didn’t he fucked up our first show? remember! he wanted to play in our place and his rich mommy made us move dates.” you scoff loudly. “that fucker, no, never, i won’t sing with him.”

ander listens carefully to your frustrations, his expression thoughtful. he understands your reluctance, having experienced the turmoil caused by Zac's friend firsthand. after a moment of silence, Ander speaks, his voice steady, "I get it, Bri. I really do. But people can change. Maybe he's realized his mistakes, and this could be a chance for redemption. Plus, desperate times call for desperate measures. It's just one show, and if he doesn't come through, we'll find another way. But what if he surprises us?"

you're hesitant, the memories of past encounters with Zac's friend clouding your judgment. Ander continues, his tone encouraging, "We won't know unless we try, right? Let's meet him, talk to him, see if he's willing to help. If he shows even a hint of sincerity, we can consider it. And if not, well, at least we'll know we explored all options."

after another hour of talking with ander, reluctantly, you agree to meet with Zac's friend, still skeptical but open to the possibility of him proving you wrong. Deep down, you hope he has indeed changed, but you wont ever forgive him.

“how do we do that? call zac.” i say.

“its late, go get some sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow, ok?” he hugs you tightly before leading you to the door. you say your goodbyes and leave.

“god its 12 am already.” you sigh and call an uber, smartass couldn’t even do it. you take off your mask, thinking of someone. you dial the person and they respond right back

“bri! hi!”

“hi! you still at work?” i ask hoping for a negative answer

“just leaving, what’s up?”

“can you pick me up from ander’s house?”

“what were you- ok we’ll talk in the car, i’ll be there soon, k?”

“thank you”

you waited for your friend to come, and she did finally, after you froze yourself outside. but it’s better than paying that expensive fucking uber.

“hi. thank you again.”

“no prob, now tell me why are you leaving ander’s house at 12 am?”

“you act like we never do music together” you giggle and look at her

“yeah but it’s late tho” she raises an eyebrow she has a point.

“we talked about someone to replace him since he’s got some flu i don’t know and he’s not feeling well.” you take a look on the window

your friend's eyes widen in understanding, her expression softening. "Oh, that sucks. Is he going to be okay?"

you nod, sighing with relief that she didn't press further. "Yeah, he'll be fine. but we're kind of in a tight spot for the upcoming show. we tried finding replacements, but it's been a disaster. Ander suggested Zac's friend, the one who messed up our first show ages ago. I'm not thrilled about it, but we're open for it.”

she raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Zac's friend? Seriously? After what he did last time? You sure about this?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "I'm not sure about anything at this point, but we're desperate. If he's changed, even a little, and he can play bass guitar, we might have a chance."

Your friend nods slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Well, I hope for your sake that he's gotten his act together. And if he hasn't, you'll figure something out. You always do."

Her words offer a sliver of comfort in the midst of your uncertainty. As you drive home together, you can't help but feel a mix of anxiety and determination.

“um… should i talk with zac for you?”

“what do you mean? you’re friends? since when?” you ask with a lot of curiosity

“well… we kinda.. hooked up…” she smiles as if she remembers every single detail

“WHAT??” your jaw drops in disbelief, shocked by the revelation. "you hooked up with Zac? When did this happen?"

she chuckles nervously, avoiding your gaze. "It was a while ago, he came to my club and tipped a lot, then asked for a blowjob, i said only if you give me head too and he actually did it” she laughs a bit seeing your shocked expression. “but if it helps you, I can talk to him and see if he can convince his friend to help you out."

you're torn between feeling surprised, betrayed, and oddly hopeful. "i don't know how I feel about this, but if you think he'd listen to you, maybe it's worth a shot. Just... be careful, okay? I don't want any more drama."

she nods, her expression serious. "I promise I'll handle it delicately. I'll talk to Zac and gauge his friend's interest in helping you. We'll see how it goes."

as she drives you home, you can't shake off the mix of emotions swirling inside you. you hope for the best and that he’ll agree and maybe be actually down to earth. you can’t lie you’re not nervous.

————————————————————————

next day you wake up totally in a sweat, the dream of being booed off the stage didn’t help your concerns at all, you felt like you need to talk to him as soon as possible, and hope for the best

taking your time to actually think about how to approach him to agree, but you thought he won’t ever do this for a random stranger, so you thought about avery and zac, she knew she’s make zac convince him.

“i talked to zac”

“and!?” you jump off your bed

“he said y’all should meet beforehand and he’ll see if he wants to, he wants to hear you sing too, but he doesn’t know what’s in for him, so i told zac to tell him… popularity? he’ll be on stage and be known so yeah.”

“AMAZING. GREAT.” you hug her tightly “love you, you’re the best. now where and when should we meet?”

“he said you should go at his studio later tonight. seems cool”

“sounds good to me, now what should i wear?” you look for some clothes

“you seriously think about what to wear? you don’t even know if he’s gonna agree.”

“true, true, but i have to make a good impression , i cant go in adidas sweats.

“yeah, yeah, now should i tell you i have a date with zac?”

“no way!! i’m glad, really!.”

“maybe one day even a double date with… what’s his name? jungkook?” she giggles at your expression.

“with that fucker? no. one show and its over, i get ander to sing with me and that’s all.” you shift in your place and think about ander, you gotta tell him everything.

feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, you spend the day preparing mentally and emotionally for your meeting with Zac's friend. The thought of finally finding a solution to your musical dilemma fills you with hope, but the fear of rejection lingers in the back of your mind.

“we’re here” says avery and gives you a comforting smile as you head inside.

as you step into the professional studio, a wave of inspiration washes over you. the air is thick with creativity, and the walls are adorned with soundproof panels, the room is dimly lit, the glow from the mixing console casting a warm ambiance over the space. cables snake along the floor, connecting various instruments to the mixing desk, creating a web of musical potential.

the room is a dark gray and a little black, you look around mesmerized, like you never went into a studio, you did, but not like one of those. i wonder how much he spent on all of this, or his family. you correct yourself.

in the corner of the studio, you notice a boy sitting on a stool, his fingers expertly gliding over the strings of a bass guitar. the bass guitar itself is a work of art, its body carved from rich mahogany, the natural wood grain accentuated by a glossy finish.

your thoughts are interrupted by a loud zac “hello girls, finally in jk’s crib!” he smiles widely then takes avery by her hand then places a soft kiss on her jawline, she totally blushes and i can see with the corner of my eyes how unamused jungkook is.

“hi brianna, nice to meet you.” he gives you his hand and smiles.

“you too! you shake his hand but your attention goes to the dark haired boy as he makes a sound to make us all look at him.

“you must be brianna.” he gets up and his hands fall in his huge hoodie pockets.

“yes, i am, and i’ve heard you’re jungkook?”

“you’re chinese?” avery suddenly blurtes.

“avery what the hell?” i ask embarrassed and look at his face, to see his reaction, nothing. “i’m so-“

“korean, if you really wanna know.”

avery realized her mistake and mouthed a sorry, to end the awkwardness i try to say something but he’s faster.

“so, you wanted to replace your guitarist hm?” he asks as he sits down and offers us to do the same, i sit down and take my strands of hair out of my face and fix my skirt.

Jungkook's gaze meets yours, his eyes a shade of deep brown that seems to hold a world of experiences. his tone is casual, yet there's an underlying intensity as he speaks, "yeah, I heard about your situation. mind if I give it a try?"

you nod, appreciating his straightforwardness. "absolutely.”

he picks up the bass guitar, his fingers caressing the strings with a practiced ease. As he starts playing, the studio fills with the low, resonant tones of the instrument. his skills are undeniable, and you can't help but be impressed by the way he effortlessly navigates the fretboard, creating a melody that resonates with the very soul of the song.

Avery and Zac watch in awe, clearly captivated by his performance. you find yourself drawn into the music, feeling the vibrations of the bass reverberate through the room. despite the initial awkwardness, there's a growing sense of excitement. maybe, just maybe, you've found the missing piece to your musical puzzle.

When Jungkook finishes playing, he looks at you, his expression earnest. before you can say how amazing that was, you get "now your turn.”

“i.. ok, what should i sing?” you awkwardly get up.

“you’re asking me?” he says with a confused look, sitting down where your place was.

“n-no just, ok i’ll start.” you nervously laugh and avery gives you a thumbs up making you smile.

“I’ve been posing with red skies,” you begin singing ‘Feet don’t fail me now’ by Joy Crookes, your voice shaky at first but gaining confidence as you delve deeper into the lyrics. with each word, you pour your emotions into the song, your voice resonating with the passion that fuels your music.

as you sing, Jungkook’s intense gaze never leaves you. his eyes reflect the understanding of the emotions you’re trying to convey, and it feels like he’s not just hearing the lyrics but also feeling the soul of the song. Avery and Zac, too, are entranced by your performance, nodding in appreciation as your voice weaves a story through the air.

the studio seems to fade away, leaving only the melody and the raw emotions you’re sharing. Your voice rises and falls, carrying the weight of the lyrics and the hope of a new beginning. In that moment, you’re not just singing; you’re baring your soul, connecting with the very essence of the music.

you finish and get applauses from everyone but jungkook.

“that was amazing” zac says, but don’t want his opinion, you want his friend’s. you wait, and you wait. and he opens his mouth suddenly. “cool.”

you give a confused look “cool?”

“yeah, we might work, rehearsals when i tell you i’m free and at your place.”

you’re taken aback by Jungkook's nonchalant response, but his words sink in. "sure, rehearsals at my place. we’ll work out the schedule," you reply, trying to hide your surprise.

Avery nudges you subtly, her eyes filled with excitement. after the initial tension and uncertainty, it seems like Jungkook is on board, even if his demeanor is more reserved than enthusiastic. you decide not to dwell on his reaction, choosing to focus on the opportunity ahead.

"thank you, Jungkook. we appreciate you giving us a chance," you say, mustering a smile.

he simply nods, his expression unreadable. despite the lack of exuberance, you can sense his commitment to the collaboration. with the pieces falling into place, you're eager to start rehearsals and see how this unexpected partnership will unfold.

Zac and jungkook watch you leave and zac places a hand on his shoulder

“what was that bro? you don’t know how to flirt, at least you were cool with the “at your place”

“you dumb fuck, i don’t want to flirt, i just need more recognition, that’s why i’m doing that, and i can’t here since dad comes with his artists you forgot?”

Zac raises an eyebrow, his surprise evident. "recognition ? buy you're incredibly talented, Jungkook. you’re practically a musical genius. ehh do you need more recognition? you forget your dad can put you all over the city’s billboards?”

Jungkook's gaze flickers, a mix of frustration and determination in his eyes. "it’s not about money, zac . it’s about proving myself, making my own mark without relying on my family's name. i want people to see me for who I am, not just as someone's son. and helping brianna, it's a step towards that."

Zac's expression softens, understanding dawning in his eyes. "i get it, man. we all have our struggles. just remember, we believe in you, not because of your last name, but because of your music."

Jungkook nods, appreciating zac’s support. "thanks, Zac. just hope I can live up to your expectations."

"You will," Zac says, clapping Jungkook on the back.

————————————————————————

your phone buzzes with an unknown number, and curiosity piques your interest as you answer the call. "hello? who’s this?" you inquire, your voice laced with suspicion.

"jungkook," comes the curt response from the other end of the line. shocked and unprepared, you hold back the exasperation that bubbles up within you. you didn't miss his arrogant tone, but deep down, you knew you needed him.

"yeah, Jungkook?" you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm, emphasizing the unnecessary delay in his introduction.

"meeting tonight. gotta talk about some stuff and all," he states, his tone bored, as if discussing your collaboration is a mundane chore for him.

"aren’t you gonna ask if I'm free?" you retort, refusing to let his dismissive attitude go unchallenged.

"don’t try to act busy," he says, his words carrying a mocking tone. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and it infuriates you. He's clearly relishing this power play.

"i’m pretty busy, actually, but tonight I'm free. Come around 7 pm," you inform him, trying to assert a semblance of control over the situation.

"9? Okay," he counters, his response catching you off guard.

"what—" you begin to protest, but he ends the call abruptly, leaving you fuming with frustration. The audacity of the man infuriates you.

puzzled and slightly unnerved, you find yourself questioning how Jungkook got hold of your number. the mystery gnaws at your thoughts, prompting you to dial Avery's number, seeking clarification.

"hey Ave, you gave Jungkook my phone number?" you ask, your voice tinged with confusion and concern.

"hey, babe, no, why?" Avery responds, her confusion mirroring your own.

"he called me about meeting tonight. Are you sure? Maybe you gave it to Zac, and Zac gave it to him?" you suggest, trying to understand.

"damrn, no, i haven't," Avery replies, her voice filled with genuine surprise. There's a brief pause before she continues, her tone taking on a mischievous edge, "That's quite weird. Oh, also..." She bursts into giggles, and you can't help but sigh in exasperation.

"tonight at yours, huh?" she teases, her laughter spilling through the phone.

"gosh, stop, I'm hanging up," you grumble, rolling your eyes at her antics.

"no, wait! But something important!" she insists, her tone turning serious for a moment.

"what?" you ask, unable to resist the curiosity despite your annoyance.

"wear protection!" she says, her laughter bubbling up again, and you can't help but groan at her audacity.

"bye," you retort, deciding it's best to end the call before she can come up with any more embarrassing suggestions. Hanging up, you're left with a mix of confusion, irritation, and a reluctant smile at Avery's playful antics. As you prepare for the evening's meeting, you can't shake the feeling that dealing with Jungkook will be far more complicated than you initially anticipated.

——-

a/n : part 1!! i cant believe i finally posted this. i wanted to make it as one part but it was sooo long.

i hope you enjoyed it! also if you might find grammar errors its because english isnt my first language!

(any recs and tips are gladly taken since im new to tumblr!)