#the incoherent comments are so me LMAO that is exactly what it looks like when ppl send me their docs to proofread

[junkissed]

CHEE !!!! 🥹🥹🥹 thank you so much for the lovely review omg i'm so glad you liked it!! i am very honored to be everyone's friendly neighborhood jun provider asfjdghfs i am always happy to spread the huihuism 🫶

ocean view

member — junhui x f reader genre — romance, smut, strangers to lovers, soulmate au word count — 8.8k synopsis — an all expenses paid trip to greece for your friend's wedding seems too good to be true, but it gets even better when you meet a handsome stranger on the beach. with the help of a mysterious old lady, her magic deck of tarot cards, and one too many coincidences, you're starting to believe things really do happen for a reason. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, fingering, marking, an oddly romantic one night stand, mentions of past hookups, reader wears dresses, way too much yearning, happy ending ! notes — my part for the @svthub world tour collab; check out the masterlist here! thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics for answering all my questions and the biggest thanks ever to @onlymingyus for proofreading & helping me brainstorm throughout !! inspired mostly by the spell mv but also a little bit from nana tour and in the soop bc of the vacation vibes. disclaimer i know nothing about tarot but i did a ton of research so i hope that part makes sense anyway :) this fic was a huge challenge to write so please please reblog if you enjoyed reading, the feedback is super appreciated and it helps me keep writing!! read bonus material here!

they say time flies when you’re having fun.

it felt like just days ago when your best friend had announced she was flying everyone to athens for her destination wedding. between helping prepare for the wedding and getting yourself packed for the trip of a lifetime, a weekend on the beach sounded like exactly what you needed to unwind.

but now that you’re here, you’ve quickly realized that your dreams of lazy spa days, massages, and lounging on chairs in the sand with cocktails aren’t on your friend’s itinerary.

what is on her itinerary, however? clubs. lots of clubs, and bars, and raves.

the night before the wedding, you’d showed up at the place you had all planned to meet at for her bachelorette party, a popular bar right on the beach in the center of everything. you hadn’t been sure what to expect, so you’d worn your swimsuit underneath your sundress just in case. between wedding plans and jet lag, you hadn’t yet had the chance to explore the beaches, and you weren’t about to let your favorite white strappy one-piece go to waste without wearing it the whole trip; especially not when you’re surrounded by gorgeous clear waters you don’t get to see while you’re at home.

you tug at your dress a little awkwardly, a simple off-white piece with buttons all down the front. cute and casual, the perfect thing for an evening on the beach. except an evening on the beach is not what you’re getting.

“next round is on me!”

all the girls let out a cheer, clapping and whooping as they raise their glasses. you’re still not even halfway through your first drink; the night is young, but your friends are more enthusiastic partygoers than you are.

you lean away to check the time on your phone, trying not to feel defeated when you see how early it still is. you’ve been trying to hype yourself up for tonight all weekend, but it doesn’t help that your friends are bigger partiers than you. that isn’t to say that you dislike parties, or that you never go out; but parties like this, huge events with hundreds of people packed into a small space with loud music and flashing lights, aren’t really your ideal way to spend a saturday night. even for such a special, rare occasion like a bachelorette party in another country, you can’t bring yourself to get lost in the scene. you should’ve known how this would go, and yet here you are, standing at a cocktail table by yourself surrounded by drunk women.

you turn back around and suddenly the bar is a sea of unfamiliar faces, everyone around you lost in their own worlds jumping and dancing to the music that booms from the speakers. you stand up on your tiptoes to see above the crowd, trying to push your way through in search of someone you recognize, but it seems like they’ve all vanished.

the pounding of the music is starting to give you a headache, so you down the last of your drink and head away from the bar, pushing past people until the crowd eventually starts to thin and you break out into the open air.

it’s still light outside, but the contrast from the darkened bar makes it feel like stepping into another world. the noise gets quieter the farther away you move, and you find your feet carrying themselves down the beach. you walk backwards, turning to look over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot your friends, but all you see is a crowd full of strangers.

it’s easier to breathe out here, feeling the freshness of the ocean breeze and the salty air in your lungs as you get further and further from the people and the businesses. you turn around again and almost run straight into a man walking from the opposite direction, and you stumble into his arms before you realize what’s happening. you let out a little squeak in surprise and jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet but his hand instinctively shoots around your waist to help keep you upright.

your cheeks burn with embarrassment, an apology already ready on your lips, but he beats you to it. “sorry,” he says with a shy laugh, slowly letting go of you and offering his hand for balance as you slip your sandal back on that had come off. he steps back and gives you a polite smile, trying to move out of your way. “you look like you’ve got somewhere to be.”

“the opposite, actually. escaping my friend's bachelorette party," you explain. 

"we're in the same boat, then," he chuckles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "trying to ditch the bachelor party. it’s a popular place for weddings, huh?”

“seems like it.” you hum, turning to look out over the water. the setting sun glints off the surface, a clear and bright sparkling blue, and you lift your hand to keep the glare out of your eyes. “i just didn’t think it’d be so…”

“…hectic?” he asks, and you laugh a little.

"yeah, you could say that.” a warm breeze ruffles through your sundress, and you cross your arms over your chest. “i guess all weddings are like that, though.”

he nods, following your gaze off into the horizon. you go quiet, listening to the music still loud in the distance and the sound of seagulls cawing above your heads. "i was hoping to get a chance to explore more of the beaches while i'm here. i don’t get to see it often."

"wanna go for a walk?” you ask suddenly, uncrossing your arms. maybe it’s the fresh air of a new place, maybe it’s the comfort of finding another person wanting to get away from it all, but some part of you wants to stay here and find out. you’d wanted to see more of the landscape anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any, especially now that you’ve got company.

he looks over at you, judging your expression before his face softens. “that sounds perfect.”

it’s still early enough that the beach is still mostly full of tourists, adults lounging on towels while reading books and kids splashing water at each other and playing in the sand. you walk further down the beach, passing in front of a grey haired old woman sitting cross-legged on a towel, shuffling a deck of cards in her wrinkled hands.

"always lovely to see couples enjoying the islands,” she calls out to you. there’s an almost rhythmic lilt to her voice, and it’s so sudden that it makes both of you pause and turn around, having paid her no mind as you walked past before. she gestures down at the deck and you finally notice that she’s holding a set of tarot cards, a deep matte black that seems to glitter and sparkle even while shadowed. “would you like a reading?”

your cheeks start to warm, and you push down the butterflies that flutter to life when she assumes you’re together. "oh, no, we're not—”

"sure," jun says over you, and you sneak a glance up at him when you think he's not looking. "how much?"

she clucks her teeth and shakes her head, staring directly at you although she’s answering his question. "no, no, no, my dear. just offering a bit of friendly advice. won’t cost you a thing."

jun nods, but she seems like she’s waiting for your answer so you quickly nod, too. “okay. what… do we have to do?”

she places her palms over the deck and closes her eyes, falling silent. you stand in front of her, feeling a little awkward to be hovering over her like this, but she it’s like she doesn’t even notice. you share a look with jun, but after a beat he grabs your hand and grins as if to say, just go along with it.

her eyes suddenly fly open and she seems pleased with whatever she was doing. “i knew i could feel it,” she says cryptically as she begins shuffling the cards. “but let’s just see what fate has to say about it.”

she stops and pulls the top two cards from the deck, placing them face down on the towel as she motions at them with her hand. at her signal, jun bends forward and turns over one of the cards, reading it aloud. “ace of cups.”

“ace of cups,” she repeats. “an invitation. the open, uninhibited flow of emotions, creativity, and love; the awakening of your spirit. this is a new beginning for you, the start of a new season. trust yourself and your feelings, and embrace the opportunity to grow with your emotions.”

jun nods seriously like he’s taking in her words, but you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that he’s trying to suppress.

she looks at you expectantly, and you hesitate before realizing she’s waiting for you to flip over the second card. you cheeks heat as you read it, but you try not to let it show. “the… lovers?”

she smiles, and although her face looks kind you have a sense that there’s something she’s not telling. “the lovers,” she says, almost solemnly. “many people think this card is strictly about romance. and in some ways it is, but what it really represents is a choice. two diverging paths, two responsibilities. will you choose with your head, or with your heart?”

she stares at you for another moment, then looks back at jun. you both stay quiet and still, subconsciously hanging on her every word as she pauses, clearly having more to say. “having these two cards come up together… now, that’s fascinating for you two, isn’t it?”

you find yourself nodding silently, although you have no idea why. you feel jun’s hand in yours, warm and soft and grounding, and the smallest shiver runs down your spine.

“the lovers and the ace of cups are the potential for new beginnings and the fulfillment that comes with following your heart,” she says, her eyes locked with yours. “this is a very powerful and meaningful connection, but only if you make the choice that is most heartfelt. you must be willing to be your most authentic self and hold nothing back. keep your eyes open, and you will be rewarded with profound joy and happiness.”

immediately you turn to look at jun to see his reaction. he looks just as confused—but is that a hint of excitement in his eyes?—as you do. the woman’s words are… cryptic, to say the least, but it stirs up a feeling of excitement in the back of your mind that you’re trying to ignore. it probably doesn’t mean what you think it does, right?

"hey, wait, so what does—”

you turn back to look at the woman for another explanation, but there's no one there. the beach is empty except for you and jun and the slowly setting sun, a few boats tied up at the dock. you’ve walked so far down the beach that even the distant music has faded into obscurity and you’re left standing alone together, surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the waves. even the wind has died down, and it feels eerily quiet but in an almost comforting sort of way, to be alone together in a place like this.

"you believe in that kind of stuff?" you ask curiously as jun starts to walk away.

"mm… not really. but she seemed like a lonely old lady. i thought it'd make her day." he looks down at your entwined hands and squeezes lightly, almost teasing as you look up and see the grin on his face. "why, do you?"

you can't help the butterflies that instantly flutter to life in your stomach when you feel his warm hand in yours, but you shrug. "why not?"

jun doesn't reply, just nodding thoughtfully as you continue to walk hand in hand. 

with the way the atmosphere has suddenly changed, it feels like time has stopped as you meander your way along the edge of the water. you chat off and on with jun, but there’s a hefty amount of silence that neither one of you feels obligated to fill. talking to jun feels like talking to an old friend, and maybe it’s the beautiful scenery or maybe it’s the way both of you had found yourselves here looking for company.

after a while you come to a stop just below the rocks where you’d started. your footprints from where you’d run into each other are still visible, little indents in the damp sand, and it reminds you of what you were running away from in the first place. maybe you don’t want to run anymore. 

"well…”  jun says, inhaling slowly. "we should get you back to your friends. i'm sure they're looking for you."

"would it be so bad if i said i didn't want to find them?"

he pauses to gauge your reaction, and you don’t miss the flicker in his eyes as he looks at you. after a moment nods and points up the shallow cliffs, towards a little stone staircase worn down from years of being travelled on. "my hotel is just up there. if… if you wanted to stay a little longer? with me?"

you pull your lip between your teeth, looking up at him and the way the fading sunlight shines through his soft brown waves, and it only takes a second to make your decision. “i’d really like that.” 

it turns out that missing out on your friend’s party for a few more hours is an easy price to pay for more time with jun.

the door of his hotel room barely has time to shut before your hands are on each other. you tug him closer by shirt with an eagerness you rarely allow yourself and he immediately reciprocates, pulling you by the waist until you’re pressed chest to chest.

his hand skims over your collarbone towards your neck, and you shiver at the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of your jaw. he angles your chin upwards and leans in as you meet him halfway and your lips finally touch, a low sound escaping from your throat as his nose brushes your cheek.

he makes a soft noise as he inhales, deepening the kiss until you feel your knees go weak. his hand cups your jaw harder, trying to draw you further into him, unwilling to break apart. he kisses you so softly yet you can still feel the intensity behind every movement of his lips, exploring your mouth with a gentleness that feels more natural than anyone you’ve ever kissed before.

jun curls his arm around you tighter, and you’re sure he can hear how fast your heart is beating as he kisses you again and again until you’re breathless. you slide your hands away from his chest and start to undo the buttons at the front of your dress, but he stops you. you look up and meet his gaze as his hand on your cheek moves to wrap around your waist, carefully walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back onto it.

he lets out a quiet groan as you pull him down with you, landing on top of you and catching himself on his forearms beside your head. his face is inches away from yours, staring into your eyes for a beat before he presses down to capture your lips again.

his kisses feel like magic, and you almost forget exactly what you’re here to do. you’d be content to spend hours with his lips on yours and nothing else, but you’re quickly pulled away from it when he sits back and starts to slide his hands down your body, his nimble fingers skillfully undoing the buttons of your dress one by one.

he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor before leaning to kiss you again, and a grateful sigh slips from your lips at his touch. your fingers tug at his shirt and he breaks away once more to quickly pull it off over his head, tossing it behind him without a second thought.

your hands slide earnestly across his body, your fingertips trailing down his torso and the deep lines of his abs. his fingers brush over your swimsuit in tandem, tracing the cutouts of the fabric where your skin is visible and making you prickle with goosebumps at his touch.

he seems equally as content to just continue doing this, but eventually his hands make their way upwards and gently slip the straps off your shoulders. he doesn't move any further than that, waiting for you to move instead, his fingers resting at the base of your neck just beneath your chin. 

you follow his actions and shimmy the suit down, letting it bunch up at your hips. only then does he finally break apart from you, moving his mouth down to your exposed breast and letting his tongue glide over your peaked nipple. your skin tastes like salt and sweat, like sunny days and warm breezy nights, and he can't get enough of you.

the first moan you let out is like music to his ears, and immediately he craves more of them. he wraps his mouth around your other nipple while keeping his hands attached to your body like magnets, desperate to be the one to draw more of those pretty noises from your lips.

you lift your hips just a little and he quickly gets the hint, wordlessly pushing his fingers between your skin and the fabric of your swimsuit before tugging it all the way off. he pulls it down your legs and you help him kick it away, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

your hands slide across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair with another moan that sends a shiver down his spine. you can’t help but roll your hips upwards against his body, squirming for more friction as your nails scratch at his scalp.

his face stays buried in your chest for a long time, moving between your breasts and planting wet kisses all along your skin. your head is spinning at the sight of this gorgeous man working his magic on your body, his hands wandering up and down with a tender purpose. you don't even know his name but you already know you're gonna be thinking about this night for months, probably even years. you're shocked at how good he is at this; there's a melancholy feeling looming in the back of your mind, knowing that this is probably the first and only night you’ll get to spend with him, but you don't have time to focus on that when you have the tingly feeling in your stomach to focus on instead.

despite not saying anything aloud you can tell exactly what he wants from you, and something about how easy this is sends a feeling of relief through you. all of the mistakes of your past hookups feel like a distant memory. there’s none of the empty conversations meant to do nothing more than fill the silence and the awkward, tentative movements that you’ve become accustomed to from strangers who aren’t familiar with your body. 

but something about the way jun touches you does feel familiar, like you’ve been waiting all your life for it, for him. his silence, something that most of your partners in the past had fought so hard to avoid, now only leaves more room for you to enjoy the sounds that often go overlooked: the wet hum as his lips connect with your skin, the distant crash of waves outside the window, the quiet whir of the ceiling fan.

jun leans down and kisses you again, shifting on top of you as his hand wanders down your hips. you pull him closer and let your hand travel a similar path, and you bite your lip in excitement when your fingers skim over the bulge straining against his shorts.

he lets out a strangled noise almost like a whimper at the contact but the sound only encourages you to add more pressure, soaking in his reactions. he whines again, pushing his hips into your hand and exhaling a shaky breath as you continue to palm him, feeling the hard outline of his cock as he struggles to keep his composure.

his knee is against your thigh and he repositions himself to press it higher between your legs, returning the favor and giving you something to grind on. instinctively your legs widen a little to give him easier access, and he rewards you with another hot, messy kiss.

you groan at the feeling, pushing your hips down towards him and rubbing yourself on him. it’s a little rough at first, but you’re already so wet that it doesn’t take long before his knee is coated in your arousal and you slide along him easily. 

after a minute he pulls back just an inch, giving you room to breathe, but one hand is still on your hip and the other curled behind you to support your neck. “good?” he asks breathlessly, and even though it’s clear as day that you’re enjoying this as much as he is, you still nod and give him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a smile of his own. “just let me know,” he says, and the sultry yet sweet tone of his voice makes your heart skip a beat.

at your approval his hand begins to wander again, trailing over the top of your thigh. his finger slowly make their way down and you shiver, your hand stilled against his abdomen as you anticipate his next move.

you take this moment to get a good look at him; you’d been too shy to stare earlier on the beach, unsure how things were going to go. but now that he’s on top of you, shirtless and obviously just as eager as you are, you let your gaze roam unabashedly across his body. your eyes glide over his torso, the hollow slope of his collarbones and his hardened nipples, the deep-set grooves of his abs and the faint lines of his ribs beneath his skin. you want to reach out to touch him and run your hands over every inch of him, but you’re trying to be patient. and although you know your time here is limited, it seems like jun is only just getting started.

his fingers finally make it to your inner thighs, tracing the area around your pussy, but it’s still not close enough for your liking. you wiggle a little to try and encourage him, whining softly and letting out a little plea. his lips quirk up and he nods, his grip on the back of your neck tensing and tangling in your hair. 

his fingers finally brush against your entrance and you gasp, writhing at how gentle his touch is. he dips his middle finger into your heat before pulling it back out, trailing upwards to your clit to circle it for a moment before heading back down and repeating the process. it’s barely enough, yet it leaves you breathless almost instantly.

he’s staring down between your legs with an intense focus, spreading your arousal around before sinking back into you for more. and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pushes his finger in deeper, holding it still for a second even though you’ve already adjusted to it. he waits until you start moving, arching your back and trying to get him to go further, before he adds his ring finger and begins slowly thrusting both fingers in and out together.

you whimper and curse under your breath, trying to roll your hips to match his rhythm. he starts to curl his knuckles and you swear you see stars, despite the fact that he’s barely moving at all.

after a moment when you’ve regained the ability to breathe normally again you start to move your hand back against his bulge, shaky fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. you wrap your hand around him and your eyes widen at the thickness, the heavy weight of him in your hand and how you’re sure he must be aching by now. you feel the way his cock jerks when you squeeze ever so slightly, his fingers inside you freezing for a split second as his brain tries to process before he plunges them in even deeper, curling into you with even more fervor than before.

you hold him tighter and run your thumb over his tip, swollen and leaking with precum. he gets a little noisier with every move you make, unable to contain the pleasure he gets even from this. even the smallest touches from each other have both of you on edge in a way you’ve never felt before, drawn to each other like no one you’ve ever had before.

his clothes in the way are starting to frustrate you, so after another second you release his cock and move your hand up to the waistband of his shorts instead, trying to tug them down but it’s difficult from the position you’re both laying in.

“please,” you pant out desperately after having little success, and he obliges, pushing his shorts away as fast as possible before resuming his motions. he’s still almost completely ignoring himself as he continues to focus on you and only you, and his complete devotion gives you another boost of confidence.

now freed, his hard cock slaps against your thigh and you moan happily at finally being able to see all of him. it looks even better than it felt, thick veins bulging out across his length and his tip flushed a deep red. you wrap your hand around him once more, flicking your wrist as you start to jerk up and down.

his fingers curl upwards to massage the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and if you had any functioning thoughts left you would’ve marvelled at the fact that he was able to find it so easily, but you’re too busy arching your back against his pillow to think about that.

he can feel you starting to clench harder around him, making his fingers stutter inside you, so he pushes his other hand down on your hip to stop you from moving so much. he pulls his fingers out and your eyes dart back up to his face for an explanation, unable to stop the whimper that escapes from you at the loss, but the look in his eyes instantly puts you at ease. you can already tell he knows what he’s doing, and somehow he seems to know exactly what you need, so for once you don’t mind sitting back and letting someone else call the shots.

“can i fuck you now?” he murmurs, and it takes you a second to even hear what he said because you’re shocked at how low and rough his tone is since the last time you heard him speak. he wipes his fingers against the inside of your thigh as he waits for your reply, and you shiver at the cool wetness on your skin.

the best you can manage is a stuttered “yes”, and without a word of acknowledgement he pulls you off the bed, guiding you off your back and onto your hands and knees.

you let out a squeak at the sudden change but you let it happen, and a second later you hear his voice beside you, his breath warm against your ear. “still okay?” he asks, and despite the gruffness in his voice you can still hear the soft edge to his words.

“yeah,” you repeat, suddenly losing the ability to say anything else to express your pleasure, but somehow you know he understands. your stomach flutters at the low tone of his voice, steady and calm but so full of warmth and lust.

you feel the heat from his face move away from your skin, and you know he’s sitting up on his knees behind you. his hands slide down your sides, reaching under you to cup your boobs with both hands as he groans at the feeling. you let out a matching whine, pushing your hips back against him to feel his hard length against the soft flesh of your ass.

his hands still holding your breasts, he leans down over you to keep you flush to his body, your back pressed against his chest. he presses a kiss in between your shoulder blades, letting his tongue trace lightly over the ridges of your spine.

you grind backwards against him harder, your body on fire from his kisses as he starts to suck gently at the back of your shoulder. you’re not sure if it’s hard enough to leave marks, but you kind of hope they do, because then you’d be sure this encounter wasn’t a dream. what other explanation is there for the fact that you’ve not only met the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but that you’re currently on your hands and knees in his bed as he runs his lips over every single inch of you, waiting for him to fuck you? it’s too good to be true.

but it is true, and you know it when he pulls away to brush your hair to the side and expose more of your back for him. his fingers are still so gentle against your skin, his touch heavy but soft, and it makes you even more desperate for him.

after a while he lets go of you and leans back, taking his cock in his hand and gently tapping it against your ass. you groan and fall forward, pressing your face into the pillows and arching your hips up into the air. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist with a low groan as he leans forward to kiss the side of your neck again.

he finally pushes all the way into you, and it feels so good it takes your breath away for a second. you can feel your walls throbbing around him, struggling to adjust to the feeling of being so full in the best way, a way you haven’t felt this strongly in so long. it’s a feeling like no other, and it makes you wonder why you ever settled for anything else before this.

his hands are all over you like he can’t decide what to do first, but after a while they settle at your hips and give them an encouraging squeeze, waiting patiently for you to set the pace. finally you bring yourself to move, tipping forward to let him slide out of you just a bit before you lean back into him.

he adapts quickly to your rhythm, thrusting in and out and matching your pace, using his grip on your waist for leverage to push himself deep inside with every stroke.

“fuck,” he moans under his breath, finally breaking the silence, and with just that one sound you feel yourself starting to let go.

the words tumble out of your mouth and you ball your fists into his sheets, clinging to the bed to keep you grounded while your head is spinning. “please, please, yes—”

everything finally hits you all at once, like a tidal wave pouring over you as you fall forward and bury your face into the pillow with a broken whimper.

“don’t stop, please,” you whine breathlessly. your words are muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he’s heard them because his grip on your hips tightens even more, slamming into you with just as much force as before and carrying you through your orgasm.

jun has to bite his lip not to sail right over the edge with you, focusing all his energy on holding himself back until he feels your body go limp all at once, the waves finally subsiding and you let out a deep, pleasured exhale. he’s so close he can practically taste it, his skin flushed and damp with sweat and his abs burning with exertion. only once he’s absolutely sure that you’ve finished cumming does he let himself break, pulling out as fast as he can and wrapping his fist around his length with all the energy he has left.

he moans weakly at the loss of your tight, warm walls hugging him so perfectly, but the view as he jerks himself over you all but makes up for it. the sight of your ass pressed flush against his thighs, your lower back arched and on display like a gorgeous blank canvas, and it gives him such a rush until he can’t hold on anymore.

the warm, sticky liquid hits your back and you whimper into the pillow, instinctively lifting your hips even more towards him. his cum spurts out in thick ropes, painting your skin and pooling in the little divot at the base of your spine, running down your ass until it feels like you’re soaked in it.

he finally pulls back and lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in, groaning as he sees you sitting still on the bed with your hips in the air. you feel the bed shift with his weight as he gets up, but you don’t pay any attention to it as you focus on trying to steady your breathing instead. something in your gut tells you to stay put, and sure enough, a minute later you hear the sink running and then feel the cool fabric of a damp washcloth brushing over your back.

he lays his hand on your ass and gently gives it a little squeeze to signal that he’s finished, and you finally fall over onto your side. you’re coasting on cloud nine, and everything feels both dulled and hypersensitive at the same time. the whir of the overhead fan is a little more prominent now, and the quiet drone echoes around in your brain.

“do you need water? or do you want a snack, or something?” jun asks, and while his voice still has a touch of shakiness as he’s recovering himself, you can tell his tone is back to the gentle and polite sound you’ve become used to hearing from him.

you shake your head, and he hums softly in acknowledgement as he points to the nightstand on the side of the bed closest to you. “there’s an extra water bottle there, if you need it. i haven’t opened it.”

you nod against the sheets, suddenly too tired to even think about forming words. jun climbs back onto the bed next to you, stretching out his long limbs and leaning against the headboard with a satisfied sigh. 

you surprise yourself when your body automatically reaches out for him, curling into his body and laying your hand across his forearm like a weight keeping him close. but what surprises you even more is when he mirrors the action, scooting closer to you and letting your head rest against his stomach. your first thought is that he makes a very comfortable pillow, and you let your eyes fall shut for a moment as your breathing returns to normal, wanting to savor this moment as you collect yourself and prepare to leave.

you open your eyes what feels like minutes later, but when you reach over to check your phone you realize you’ve been asleep for more than an hour. you inhale slowly and swallow, blinking a few times as the sore feeling in your hips reminds you of where you are.

instinctively, you start to panic a little. your friends are probably looking for you. you disappeared without telling anyone, and now you have to get back to your hotel and make sure you have enough time to sleep properly and get ready for the wedding in the morning. never mind that it was probably the best night you’ve ever spent with another person, and never mind that your friends are probably still out partying and haven’t even noticed you missing yet.

you slide off of the bed as quietly as you can, stumbling a little when your feet hit the floor. you crouch down to pick up your swimsuit off the floor and put it on, hopping on one foot as you slip each leg through the holes. it's darker outside now, but the street lamps and the moonlight shining through the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony of his hotel room are bright enough that it still feels like day. you're so focused on getting dressed and mentally running over your to-do list that you completely forget there's another person in the room until you hear his voice cutting through the silence.

“you don’t have to do that, y’know.”

you freeze and look up, your half-buttoned dress hanging loosely from your shoulders, your cheeks burning at the realization you’ve been caught.

jun swings his legs off the bed, crossing the room in a couple of strides before he’s standing in front of you. he’s wearing nothing except for the boxer shorts he threw on right before you fell asleep, and your cheeks flush even harder at the sight, despite the fact that you’ve already seen much more of him than this.

it takes every ounce of restraint you have to keep your eyes from straying, locked on his face before your gaze falls quickly to the floor where your sandals are left in a heap.

you didn’t mean to sneak off. but what else were you supposed to do? you hadn’t meant to fall asleep and stay as long as you did, either, and now you were stuck with the awkward conversation that always comes afterwards. the inevitable hurried goodbyes and uncomfortable tension as you try to put yourself back together and leave as fast as possible.

jun takes a small step closer to you, and despite all the confidence you know he has, it feels almost… tentative. as if you’re meeting for the first time and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s allowed to touch you yet.

there's a lingering feeling that you can't quite put your finger on yet. it's conflicting, because you know you can't stay but everything in you is screaming not to leave. maybe there's something you can do, anything you can do. is it all worth it? to turn your life around in a complete 180 for someone you barely even know— and yet, the last few hours that you’ve spent with him have been incomparably the best of your life.

after a moment he reaches out and starts to finish buttoning your dress for you, his fingers working them back through the loops with just as much care as he did when he was taking them off earlier.

“sorry,” you manage quietly, though you’re not even really sure what you’re apologizing for. a lot of things: sorry for running away, sorry for having feelings you probably shouldn’t be feeling, sorry for knowing this won’t work out despite the way you really, really wish it could.

but he just shakes his head as he finishes buttoning the last button. “i took it off. i can help you put it back on, too.” you can tell he knows what you had actually meant, but he’s ignoring it either for your sake or his. something about his words feels so easy, like all the problems in your head don’t mean anything anymore. here you are, an anxious and awkward and confused mess, and there he is, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress like it’s something he’s been doing all his life.

he adjusts the strap on your shoulder with a gentle pat, but his hands linger for a few seconds longer than they should, and you lift your eyes to meet his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks quietly, and for some reason his choice of words sticks with you. not one final kiss, not a goodbye kiss, just again. like he’s refusing to admit this will probably be the last time you’ll ever see each other.

and you nod, and his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and pull you back into his lips, just as warm and just as soft and just as familiar as the first time. there’s something so innocent about kissing him, even in the midst of a complicated and confusing mess of emotions that makes you second guess everything. somewhere in the back of your mind you vaguely register that this is the last time you’ll ever kiss him, but as long as his lips are on yours it doesn’t matter. you’ll figure out how to deal with all that later; for now, the only thing you’re concerned about is the way he grips your chin and pulls you even closer.

it feels like hours later when you finally pull away, letting out a slow exhale as you try to blink yourself back to reality, and you know what has to happen now. “can you find your hotel on your own? do you want me to walk back with you?” jun asks, and you can feel the hesitancy in his voice.

“it’s not far,” you sigh quietly, turning away to slip your feet into your sandals that wait by the bed where you’d taken them off earlier. you should’ve said yes. “but… thank you.” your words hold a sincere weight to them, and it’s silent for a few seconds as you cross the room quicker than you want to.

“you could stay,” he says finally, but his hand is already on the doorknob and you both already know the answer. you hate that you have to be the one to tell him no, even though it’s been clear from the start what the outcome would be. you give him a small shake of your head, and he pulls on the knob. 

he stands and stares for a minute, watching you walk down the hallway and praying you’ll turn around. and then you do, glancing back at him over your shoulder, and he almost allows himself to have a little bit of hope that you might come back, even though you both know you can’t. when you find him still standing in the doorway your eyes light up just the slightest bit, and finally you disappear with a tiny little wave.

the door clicks shut again, and the silence that follows is louder than anything he’s heard all day.

“and you didn’t even get this guy’s number?!”

you wince at the tone in jeonghan’s voice, rubbing the back of your shoulder guiltily. “his name, either.”

“even after the magic old lady said all that shit about soulmates?”

“she didn’t say that!” you huff. your tone rises almost defensively, although it probably has no reason to. she didn’t say anything about being soulmates… right? “she said something like, ‘keep your eyes open for stuff around you’. but he said he didn’t even believe in it, anyway.”

a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses walks past, and he snags a couple of them, holding one out to you. “well, it doesn’t sound like you’re keeping your eyes open. it sounds more like your eyes are closed, actually. are you blind?”

you scowl and take the glass from him. “my flight home is tonight, hannie. i’m not gonna see him again.” you take a sip, letting it sit in your mouth for a second before you swallow. “and besides, he said he was here for a wedding, too. he could be from anywhere in the world. it would be impossible to find him.”

“doesn’t hurt to at least try.” you both stop in front of a circular table covered in flowers, with a little placard next to one of the plates with jeonghan’s name on it. “i guess this is my table. you want me to help you look for yours?”

you shake your head, pointing to a table a little ways away. “i saw mine on the way in, it’s over there.”

“whatever,” he hums at you, but you know he’s just teasing. “i still wouldn’t blame you if you ditched and ran off to try and find him.”

“not happening!” you call over your shoulder as you walk away, matching his playful tone. but you can’t help but feel like maybe he’s right.

jun taps his fingers against the table, staring mindlessly at the bubbles floating in his glass of champagne. he’s stuck in his head— no, that’s not right. that’s not the problem. you’re stuck in his head. it’s nearly a full day later and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the taste of your lips, the feel of your breasts in his hands, the scent of the shampoo in your hair. if that wasn’t the most perfect hookup in the history of hookups, then he doesn’t wanna know what is.

he still feels bad for not even paying attention during the ceremony, because he was too busy imagining you and him up there on the altar kissing instead. god, what he wouldn’t give for another kiss like that. but just like you, he knows it never would’ve worked out, and despite the what-ifs that are chewing him up inside and the fact that he definitely, absolutely, totally would’ve tried to make it work however large the distance was, he knows it’s probably for the better. even if it means he’s gonna spend the rest of his life pining after a girl he met on vacation for less than a single day, and he’ll never even know your name.

he takes a swig of his champagne and tries to put on a cheery face. this is a wedding, after all, and he can’t afford to spend all his time pouting when he’s in a beautiful city by the seaside enjoying delicious food and near perfect weather.

and then he sees you.

not really, of course, because it’s probably the champagne going to his head after chugging the majority of his glass like a frat boy at a college party. but then he blinks, and it really is you, wandering around for a second before you sit down at a table on the other side of the venue, wearing a soft blue dress that’s even prettier than the one he saw you in yesterday.

he blinks again, not fully believing that it’s you and not just the combined effect of the alcohol and his daydreams, but you’re still there when he opens his eyes again. and he knows it’s you, because he can see the faint hickies on your back and shoulders that you clearly tried to hide with makeup but couldn’t fully reach.

the chances that he’d see you again—not even that, but the chances that you’d be attending the very same wedding he was—must be one in a billion. maybe even more. yet there you are, picking at your nail and staring wistfully at your empty plate as you wait for the reception to start.

he stares for another minute, just to make sure you’re actually real, before he stands up and makes his way to the terrace at the back of the venue where the groom is standing next to a tower of cupcakes.

“gyu,” he greets him, “hey. are we allowed to switch tables?”

“i… don’t think so?” mingyu hums, a little off guard by the sudden question. “i made sure we put you next to hao, but—”

“if i give you twenty bucks, can you put me at table 8 instead?” jun’s eyes flicker with desperation, and he has to force himself not to look back over at you.

mingyu whines apologetically and hesitates, glancing at his bride a little ways away as she talks to a table full of guests. “she did all this planning, jun, i can’t just change everything now…”

“it’s not changing everything.” jun pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket, already rifling through the bills. “i’ll make it a hundred. mingyu, please, just switch me,” he says.

the whine in jun’s voice makes him pause, and he bites his lip as he considers it. on one hand, he could have his brand new wife a little bit mad at him for a while (who’ll probably forgive him the second she gets in bed with him tonight), plus get to help his friend and get an easy hundred dollars out of it. or, on the other hand… he could not help him, and his wife would never know, and jun would probably hate him for some unknown reason even though he doesn’t think jun has a single bone in his body capable of hating anybody. the decision is easy.

mingyu takes the bills from jun’s hand and stuffs them in his pocket before anyone can notice. “go ahead,” he says, tossing his head in the direction of the table. “i don’t know what it is you want, but don’t let anybody see you.”

“thanks! i owe you!” jun grins and hugs him, letting out a noise almost like a squeal before he turns and dashes away.

you’re barely paying attention to the reception anymore as you sit with your chin in your hands, again mentally running over all the things you need to pack and how on earth you’re going to be able to board your flight tonight and leave everything behind. the beaches, the city… and him. how are you supposed to just get on a plane and get on with your life, knowing that he’s out there somewhere in the world, and you’re never going to see him again. 

you’re trying not to sulk, but you can’t help the way your mood has been sour all morning, already filled with regrets and you haven’t even left yet. maybe you should’ve skipped the wedding altogether and spent another day in his bed, wrapped up between his sheets and lying in his arms. but then the rational part of your brain reminds you that he was also in town for a wedding, so even if he’d wanted to or even been okay with doing that, he probably had other plans anyway.

you’re still trying to figure out what to do about your hopeless situation when you hear a sound close behind you. it startles you into putting a smile on your face, preparing yourself to socialize although you really aren’t in the mood to.

“is this seat taken?” jun asks as he pulls out the chair to your left and sits down.

your brows furrow in confusion, trying to place the familiar voice, until you turn around and your jaw drops when you see who it belongs to.

you stare at him in shock, your eyes darting back and forth between his trying to figure out what to say. “you’re not joshua,” is the best you can come up with as your mouth hangs open and you whip your head around to check the list of names assigned to this table. you recognize them all, yet here he is: the nameless stranger you’ve fallen so helplessly in love with in so short an amount of time.

he smiles at your reaction, and it’s such a genuine smile that you know he’s feeling exactly the way you do right now. “i guess you’re right. i’m not.” he brushes the name card in front of him to the side and sets his own down in its place instead before he holds out his hand to shake. “it’s nice to meet you. i’m jun.”

you pause for a minute, staring at his hand. you can’t believe this is real, you can’t believe he’s real; you’d almost been able to convince yourself that the whole encounter last night was a fever dream, if you hadn’t woken up in the morning with a soreness between your legs that screamed that it definitely was not a dream.

finally you reach out and take his hand, and even in that little touch you can tell it really is him, from the way your heart picks up when you feel the familiar softness of his skin and the gentle squeeze that sends goosebumps down your arm.

“it’s nice to meet you, too.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[hyprfixate]

soul vine ↝ [L.M.] :: part three

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: when you decide to get an ear piercing as part of your transition to adulthood, you expect a lot of things, like the pain and the high price tag. what you don’t expect, however, is finding out you’re soul-bound to the angry blonde from the parlor. or that you’re technically not human.

but hey. adulthood, right?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ pairing: lee minho x she/her reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ chapter word count: 2.0k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tags: magic au, grumpy minho, fantasy, medium burn, strangers to enemies to friends to lovers, soulmate au, gang au, minho has some issues to work out

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ author’s note: sorry i like, fell off the face of the earth LMAO. work got so hectic, then I had to prepare to move back in for school and get used to my schedule. but! i'm here now and I will be updating more regularly. feel free to scream at me (kindly) in the notes or my ask box

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ tag list: @mal-lunar-28 @dutchessskarma @weakforskz @liknws @goddessraven2371 @beaann @deadpoetsandhoney (comment on this post to be added!)

part one - part two - part three - part four

An hour or two later, you were seated on the couch next to Hyunjin, who was holding your hand and rubbing his thumb over it protectively. 

           After Minho returned from doing God knows what, he sulked in the corner like an angry toddler. His anger radiated in the room you three were in, and he was pissed. After deciding to sit, he had spent the better half of 20 minutes mumbling angry, incoherent sentences under his breath. It wasn’t until Chan returned that he had settled down a bit.

Emphasis on a bit.

           Now, the two men were sat in chairs across from you and Hyunjin, Minho scowling at you, and Chan staring at you with an unreadable look. You could sense his feelings of disappointment in the air, and it made you shrink in your seat.  Hyunjin bit his nail anxiously and his eyes bounced between his friends.

            “She’s innocent,” he spoke up. Chan held a finger up to silence him, and continued to stare at you questioningly.

            It’d been dead silent for the better part of 5 minutes now, and you were starting to get anxious. For many reasons, like being in a room with three men you only met last week, but mostly because Hyunjin had touched the bruise on your back and healed it, and you needed to know what was going on before you decided to freak out. If you hit your head on the sidewalk and this was some vivid comatose dream, cool, it was a great one. But if you were actually awake, that was another story.

             Chan’s facade broke, and he let out a small laugh. “You’re not in a coma,” he said. “You’re awake.”

             Oh, he could read minds now? You were definitely in a coma.

             Unconvinced, you blinked at him, and slowly his stoic expression morphed into something closer to his normal face. Minho, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to smother you with the pillow next to your leg. You shifted next to Hyunjin for support.

            “Alright, get to talking,” Minho barked. “Explain what the fuck you were doing in my shop and what you were trying to accomplish. And don’t try lying, we already know everything.”

            “Min—”

            “Don’t interrupt me Hyunjin. This doesn’t concern you.”

            Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “It kinda does.”

            “I’m sorry, what exactly is going on?”

            All the eyes in the room turned their attention to you. Minho looked indignant at your question, as though he couldn’t believe you’d have the nerve to speak. Chan, on the other hand, let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. 

            “Well, before anyone says anything else, are you okay? You got choked out for a while back there.”

             Your fingers brushed against the bruise on your neck as you blinked at them. It seemed like a distant memory at this point, albeit a terrifying one, but as you ran your fingers along the surface of your skin, you let your focus come back to the present.  “I… I actually feel fine.”

             Hyunjin smiled, and Chan continued. “Good. That confirms our theory, then.”

              “Your theory… about what exactly?”

              Chan stood up from his seat and folded his arms over his chest. After a beat of silence, he began pacing around the small room, humming a tune to himself. He paused in front of a small window off to the side and stared out of it.

You furrowed your eyebrows and turned to Hyunjin, who rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘Dramatics,’ he mouthed. Still unsure, you nodded and looked back at Chan.

Finally, he spoke. “Why didn’t you tell us you’re a Sirid?”

                You blinked, having no clue what word just came out of Chan’s mouth. Was this some new kind of insult? Probably not. You’d expect that behavior from Minho, not Chan. You’d never heard this word before, and there was no context in his sentence to help you out.

At your silence, Chan tilted his head. “You seem confused… why?”

“I have no idea what that word means,” you confessed. “I’m genuinely concerned that you might have insulted me.” 

           “She’s obviously lying,” Minho spoke up. His arms were still crossed over his chest as he looked you up and down. “There’s no other explanation.”

You chose to ignore Minho, staring at Chan as he restarted his pacing. “Are you going to let me know what a Sirid is, or am I going to continue to believe I’ve just been insulted?”

Chan paused in his pacing again and turned around to face you. “I should’ve known when you came in, but your energy didn’t set off any alarm bells. My only question is, why didn’t you tell us yourself? Certainly you felt our energies.”

“Chan,” you deadpanned. “I’m telling you right now, I have no clue what you’re talking about. I came for an industrial piercing, and that’s it.”

Hyunjin pressed his hand into the curve of your back tightly, and the rising anger in you began to settle down. You closed your eyes before continuing.

“I’m honestly very confused and a little frightened, so if you please, I’d love an explanation.”

When you opened your eyes, Chan was staring at you with a different look. The disappointment was gone, replaced with something akin to sympathy. Even Minho, who still looked like murder was a considerable option, had his eyebrows raised and was giving you his undivided attention.

Chan let out a breath and slid back into the seat next to Minho. “Alright,” he breathed. “We can do that.”

He leaned back and blew air through his mouth. “So. We, as in all of the workers here at the shop, are Sirids. I guess the human equivalent is like… witches and wizards. We’re not from here, we’re from a different realm, a place called Iphorus.”

You allowed Chan to continue, skepticism flowing through your veins like an essential vitamin. ‘They’re crazy,’ you thought. ‘Cute, and great tattoo artists, but crazy.’

“You remember Hyunjin grabbing you and bringing you back here, right?”

You nodded. “Then he touched my back, and the pain went away.”

“Well,” Hyunjin cut in. “I started healing you way before that. Being held in the air by your throat for close to 5 minutes is not exactly a recommended daily activity.”

You turned to the redhead with confusion. “What are you saying?”

“You were going to die, idiot.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “You were being choked out by a man 15 times stronger than you are. If Hyunjin hadn’t sensed the danger, you would be dead.”

Your memory flicked back to seeing Hyunjin at the bottom of the hill earlier that day. You remembered that when you felt the impending sense of doom and froze, he also seemed disturbed, as though whatever you were feeling, he was feeling.

Your heart thundered in your chest as panic gripped your brain. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“Sirids are divided into different groups, called clans.” Chan’s voice softened as he explained. “Your clan determines what your powers are. Hyunjin is from the Ellituary clan. He’s a healer, a protector– do you notice how calm you feel with him?”

Yes, actually. You did. You remembered the overwhelming sense of peace that washed over you when he walked into Minho’s studio. You thought it was relief from having a third person around so you wouldn’t have to deal with Minho alone.

You felt your head shaking before you even realized it. “No,” you said. “You guys are messing with me. You’re lying to me because you want to keep me here.”

Hyunjin reached over to touch you again, but you pulled yourself away as though he was poisonous. You could see the hurt in his eyes before they pooled with tears.

Chan called your name gently, reaching over to calm you down himself, but you shot up from your seat and backed away from all of them.

“Magic isn’t real,” you said, more to yourself than to them. “You’re liars, and I’m going to walk down these stairs and go home, and I never want to see any of you again.”

“That wouldn’t be wise.”

You whipped around to look at Minho, who wasn’t even looking in your direction as he spoke. “We know you’re a Sirid because Sirid magic doesn’t work on humans, and humans can’t detect each other through their energy.”

His eyes lazily looked up at yours. “Hyunjin was able to heal you, and that asshole was able to sense you to know to attack you. If there was one, we have to assume there are others, and if you leave this shop with that earring in your ear, they can and will come after you.”

He scoffed. “And we will not be able to save you next time.”

You reached a shaking hand to your ear, gently touching the new addition to your appearance. “What does the earring have to do with any of this?”

Hyunjin sighed. “Do you remember what I told you? That the earring has a cultural significance that no one knows about but us?”

Of course. Hyunjin’s stuttering and hesitation all made sense now– well, if you chose to believe them. As much as you wanted to think they were just being weirdos, too many things were starting to add up.

“What’s its significance then?” You remembered how the man called Minho by name after seeing the earring. “Is this like, your symbol or something? Did I accidentally initiate myself into a gang?”

“No no,” Chan held his hands up quickly. “It’s nothing like that. It’s just…” He trailed off, biting his lip as he tried to find the proper words to use.

Hyunjin jumped in. “Minho invented the earring years ago. It’s called the Soul Vine.  On humans, it doesn’t do anything, but on Sirids, the shadow of the squiggly part reveals the name of your soul tie.”

“Soul tie?”

“Like a soulmate,” Chan explained. “The person that your soul is tied to.”

So that's why Minho didn’t want to make the earring. If you’d known it would cause so much trouble, you would’ve been fine picking something else out. Granted, there was no way he could’ve explained it to you that wouldn’t make you think he was entirely insane. Actually, you’re still not sure if you believe in his sanity 100%.

As you began to process everything in the silence, Minho shot out of his seat like he’d been sitting on hot coals. His eyes were wide, and he looked both angry and terrified.

Chan gave him a look. “Min? You okay?”

Rather than answering Chan, Minho turned around in your direction and made his way over to you quickly. Without warning, he pulled your hair away from your ear and stared at the earring intently.

You gave Chan a pleading look, and he stood up and started making his way towards you two.

“Minho,” he sighed. “You have to ask before you touch people. I thought we’ve been over–”

“Fuck.”

Minho pulled away from you and pressed his palms over both of his eyes. “Of fucking course– of fucking course.”

Hyunjin blinked from his spot on the couch. “What.. what’s going on?”

Chan turned his attention back to you, squinting at your ear. After a moment, his eyes widened and he staggered backwards like someone punched him.

You were about to ask what happened, but a memory from the day you got your piercing rushed full force into your mind. You could see yourself sitting in the chair and holding the mirror, decoding the letters that appeared from the shadow.

Your stomach sunk into the floor as you returned Chan’s widened eyes.

“Oh my God,” you stuttered. “If I’m a Sirid–”

“Then the earring shows your soul tie.”

Slowly, your eyes shifted to Minho, who’s palms were still over his face. He parted his hands slowly, and in the silence of the room, you could hear his wavering voice repeating two words like a mantra.

“It’s me,” he whispered. “It’s me. It’s me. It’s me.”

[bunglegaydogs]

skk dynamics!

I just want to talk about Soukoku so that is precisely what I'm going to do ^^

As per, this post has no specific or planned direction, I'm just gonna see where it takes me lol.

It genuinely irks me to see the rampant mischaracterisation within the fandom pertaining to not only just Soukoku, but several other characters as well. Ranpo, Akutagawa, Kunikida, etc. It might just be my dumb little screaming brain being scared of something that's not supposed to be in my head, or hell, something that's in the BACK of my mind, and I know that makes no sense but it does to me xoxo

I just really treasure the dynamic between Dazai and Chuuya and I get frightened that when I think somebody is mischaracterising them, I'm the only one that thinks that and that I'm just perceiving them wrong. Which genuinely is the one thing I never wish to do; when I write fics, my number one goal is to make the characters as true to life as possible. I try my damndest to do justice to their characters, and based off of the lovely people that read it and comment, I'm doing something right, surprisingly.

The characterisation of Dazai and Chuuya specifically is something so important to me because I relate to the both of them the most out of any of my interests. And I have a LOT of interests.

I don't know why or how, but they came to be my absolute favourite characters over all other fandoms and shows and games and films I enjoyed. (I'm excluding the Marauders fandom here, because I also love Remus and Sirius exactly like this). I piss myself off with it sometimes, because I accidentally base all of my creative outlets off of Soukoku, and lo and behold, I have about 30 unfinished ideas/fics after one night of ruminating over these motherfuckers.

Anyways. Like I said, this post has no point, it's just my incoherent, incessant rambling that if I don't write down, will slowly eat away at me until I die ^^

So, I guess, without further ado, I'm just gonna get going?

LMAO

Anyways,

Soukoku's dynamic has always been interesting. We were introduced to them first (as a pair) as enemies; ex-partners, rivals, loathing each other. But, when we slowly got to see more of their relationship, more of their past, more of their dynamic, quite a lot of us slowly came to realise; oh shit. There's more to them here.

The two of these together aren't just black-and-white characters. Dazai is not inherently good just because he works for the ADA. Chuuya is not inherently bad just because he works for the PM. They are morally grey characters. They've killed people, tortured people, stolen, beaten, attacked, hurt, all that good stuff that comes with being in the Mafia (nevermind fucking Mafia executives). Something that a lot of people seem to forget is where to draw the line between these two organisations; if the ADA is harbouring two fugitives that are ex-mafia, one of them being an executive, another fugitive that terrorised the streets of Japan as a man-eating tiger, and is run by an ex-assassin who was close with the current leader of the Port Mafia, who's to say that they're the good guys? Who is the one to define the evil and the light?

Nobody.

There are no sides.

The Port Mafia aren't the bad guys, and the Agency aren't the good guys. They're both doing their morally grey jobs with their morally grey cast of characters.

Yes, on a base level, the ADA are supposed to be the good guys, whereas the Mafia are the bad. It's a narrow-minded way of thinking and looking at the series, but on a surface level, yes, that seems to be the case.

However, we have layers to this. We know how morally grey these characters are, good or bad. Take Tanizaki, for example, and his way of going about it when Naomi is threatened. He knows he's morally grey. He knows he's not one of the good guys. None of them are! They save people, and that makes them good. But it doesn't make them the good guys. I'm not calling them bad people, of course not. I'm just saying, in the wise words of a post I once read months back, 'Maturing is realising that neither the Port Mafia or the ADA are the good or bad guys'. Something along those lines.

ANYWAYS, I've written this much already and still haven't spoken about SKK.

My point here was their good apple/bad apple dynamic. Dazai is from the same place Chuuya is at, the Mafia. So, by calling Dazai a 'bad guy' you're indirectly also calling Chuuya a bad guy. You're calling Hirotsu a bad guy. You're calling Akutagawa a bad guy. You're calling Higuchi a bad guy. You're calling all of these Mafia members the bad guys; when that's not strictly true. Morally grey characters, yet not monsters. Not bloodthirsty, demonic, evil motherfuckers. They're in the Mafia; not a good start, of course. But again, this does not make them bad people. Actions don't define the person you make yourself out to be, if that makes any sense. Just because a bad person did one good thing one time does not necessarily make them a good person. But if they strive to become a better one by constantly doing good and making active efforts to change their ways, then they're well on their way to earning that title, or coming close to it. Just because someone good did a bad thing one time does not automatically make them a bad person. They're not awful for making one bad choice, depending on the severity and their actions after the choice. Because it can go both ways; strive to be a better person, or fall to be a bad one.

ANYWAYS.

SOUKOKU.

I LOVE SOUKOKU.

So, I'm actually going to talk about them instead of fucking RABITTING ON FOR HOWEVER LONG.

Anyways.

Soukoku is special to me. I relate to the both of them the most. I recognise the flaws in each of them, and I recognise the good. I recognise the changes they're willing to put themselves through for the sake of the greater good, and I recognise the struggles they've been through to get there. I see myself in them, and so I can't help but latch onto them and want to keep them for myself. My subconscious wants to protect them and make them happy and becomes unhealthily attached to these fictional characters.

Anyways.

Soukoku dynamics. Right.

One of my favourite dynamics about Soukoku is the childlike behaviour they exhibit with one another. Even after seven years and they still bicker like they did at 15. I've said it a thousand times before and I'll fucking say it again; they let each other be the children that they never got to be. They let loose with one another. They unwind. They relax. They recognise their similarities (much to Chuuya's chagrin and unwavering denial) and each other's differences. Where there is hate, there is love and trust. It's buried deep. But it's there. The two of them have their walls put high up. They guard themselves well. They keep their shit inside. They let not another soul see what goes on in their hearts. So, with their crying children stuck inside of them and locked down, they let them out around each other. By simply being with each other at any given moment, they're healing their inner children, and allowing them to breathe.

Each moment with Soukoku is so delicate. It feels intrusive to watch their intimate scenes. It feels like such a beautiful moment, so precious to watch and so delicate to touch. The intimate scenes with the two of these are either emotionally charged, blazing, action-packed and full of chaos, or quiet and serene. Tranquil. It's never really neutral ground for them. It's either chaos or serenity, just a calm moment between the two of them, away from the rest of the world and taking (unknowing) comfort in each other's presence.

It's the small smiles from Dazai when Chuuya isn't looking. It's the words and actions with hidden meanings exchanged between them. It's the concern when one of them gets hurt, or is stuck in an unprecedented situation. It's the unfaltering trust and loyalty between each other that pushes them forward, even if it kills them, or seems fruitless. It's the determination that sits in the both of them to protect those that they care about, and put the world above all else for just a moment.

Small, knowing glances. Inside jokes. Petulant, playful bickering. Concerned thoughts. Constant thoughts.

I find it hard to believe that nobody else finds Dazai and Chuuya suspicious; they're hardly discreet about how much they think about each other. Example number one:

Chuuya is drunk with Hirotsu and Kajii. On a whim, he decides to go on a rant about Dazai. Hirotsu and Kajii are apparently sick of it; he does this a lot. He decides, impulsively, to ring Dazai's phone. Dazai picks up the fucking phone. Hirotsu answers, Dazai's like 'Oh, hey, yeah this is my old phone.' Blatantly lies to the motherfucker, because Dazai, honey, you're at home reading; what have you got your old phone from seven years ago next to you, working, and on for? Chuuya wants to speak with him. Gets angry when he can't talk to him to shout at him and complain. Keeps trying to call him back in anger.

Now, if I do say so myself, that's pretty suspicious of them.

Example two:

Dazai in fucking general. He does not shut the fuck up about Chuuya. He tells everyone he meets about how much he spends thinking about Chuuya (everyone except the Agency ahem). He's fucking gay.

That also brings me on to another point. Dazai rarely speaks about Chuuya with the ADA; I'm not too sure I've ever seen him say anything about him to them, except in Wan and the like. (I'm dumb tho tbf). However, upon Yosano figuring out Chuuya's identity, his first reaction is "Goddamn it, Dazai told them". Not that he's a widely known gravity manipulator and its not fucking hard to figure it out, plus the fact that he's a Mafia executive, PLUS the fact that they're a detective Agency? His first impulse is to blame Dazai lmao. Anyways.

You can ignore the first half of that paragraph I was just chatting mad wham.

Anyways.

I just enjoy how peaceful and serene the intimate moments between Soukoku can be. Even the world around them is falling apart, it still somehow feels so beautiful, real, raw, and personal. When Dazai is watching Chuuya fight in storm bringer, it feels so quiet. All hell is breaking loose, yet Dazai is so breathtaken by Chuuya that we feel as if we're interrupting. I don't know why but all I picture upon imagining that scene is a very quiet scene, just for a few seconds, of no music or anything, and white. Just the colour white in as many places as possible. A softness to the screen. I don't know. It just feels like that to me and I can't explain it.

Soukoku's dynamics are so important, because when people mischaracterise both Dazai and Chuuya and then smush that together it creates an abomination of what was supposed to be beautiful and ruins the relationship they really have, muddying their name. Their relationship is special. It's so much more than hate.

Hate is also a crucial part of their relationship, however. And a lot of us Soukoku shippers tend to forget that. We're so blinded by how much we want them to admire and adore each other that we forget how much they do despise one another. And I've mentioned this before in another post.

Their hate is real. It's not a ruse, it's the real deal. They genuinely do hate one another; but that hate is filled with so much more than downright disgust. That hate is filled with the trust of their bond, seven years of partnership, love, and so many unspoken things between the two of them.

Chuuya hates Dazai because he hates himself. He refuses to let himself see the similarities between him and Dazai, because he could never be like him. Chuuya often struggles with his identity and who he is and just how human he is. He didn't know until he was 16 whether he was a real human or not. And so, upon meeting this other human at 15 who craves death and wants to just throw away this human life that he's been given? That's a hard no for Chuuya. He resents Dazai for being so willing to give up his life so carelessly, so easily. He'd do anything at that point to realise just how human he was, to prove his humanity to others and to show his compassion and human qualities. And he stumbles across this stone-cold, suicidal kid who wants to let go of all of that, sees no point in trying to even be human, and who is lacking empathy for other human lives. Chuuya disgusts and loathes that. So, he wants nothing to do with him. Does not want to be attached to him in any way shape or form. Refuses to acknowledge their similarities. So, when he's being tortured, and the first thing he hallucinates is Dazai? It preys on his insecurities and deepest fears. He fears that he's not at all a human, and he fears that he is like Dazai, an unfeeling, indifferent, seemingly heartless boy who wishes to give up on the world, who wishes he was never born, who wishes nothing more than to be granted that sweet release of death.

I can't articulate very well, so for that I do apologise! But yeah, this has always been an important scene for me. In his moment of weakness, Chuuya hallucinated the person that he wanted to see the least, first. He hallucinated Dazai before his freshly dead friends, etc. And claims that, whilst he's being tortured, after Verlaine has killed the people closest to him, that he hates him the most out of anyone in the world. A lot of people said that this was an overreaction; respectfully, shut the fuck up ^^ My boy was being tortured, give him some leeway, yeah?

Anyway.

It just goes to show how deep those roots of self-hatred go within Chuuya; it seems him and Dazai have something more in common than originally thought.

Now, I don't actually have a complete grasp on the reason why Dazai hates Chuuya so much. Because, he doesn't hate him as much as Chuuya hates him, or as much as he makes it out to be. Dazai is an eccentric bastard, dramatising things for the sake of stirring up trouble. He overexaggerates for a variety of reasons, one of those being to conceal any emotion he IS feeling. He makes a big song and dance out of the little things to try and forget about the big things. To not think. Dazai is not numb by nature. He's numb by conditioning. He has conditioned himself to feel nothing, to be cold and logical and rational. Mori, of course, only exemplified these traits, making him colder and more calculated than ever/before. So, my blind guess is that he holds a sort of resentment to Chuuya for being able to be more normal than he is, for wanting to live and not seeing the world as a boring, pointless place. But, he also wants Chuuya to thrive as a human, to be able to live his life knowing and being sure of his humanity. And, when it's only him and Verlaine, he grows quite... emotional (trust me, it's not a lot but that's the only word I can think of) when talking about his humanity. That, Chuuya has to be a human. Because how could he hate someone so much? He has to be a human, because if he wasn't he would like Dazai more.

I think Dazais "issue" (I CAN'T THINK OF WORDS RIGHT NOW LMAO) is that he just wants Chuuya to like him. Maybe he wants a friend. Maybe there's something else to it. But, Dazai has always had strong... feelings, towards Chuuya. "Jokingly" telling him he loves him. Getting awfully close when he doesn't need to, and never does with anyone else. Yeah, you're not fooling anybody hun. Makes many romantic comments that could be passed off as something else entirely about him. Showing active concern for him. Caring for him. Thinking about him. He shows a lot more attention to Chuuya than he gets in return; by that I mean speaks about it more. Is a lot more verbal than Chuuya is.

GAHHHH sorry sorry I just have too much to say and don't know when to SHUT THE FUCK UP but I have SO MUCH more to say, but I'm going to be going off and writing my shitty little fics that should've been written yonks ago <3

have a lovely day/night! ^^

[onmyyan]

Yandere Gabe nsfw 😳💕

A/N: I don't smoke cigarettes but I feel like I needed one after writing this lmao hope you enjoy!! NOT EDITED

TW'S: YANDERE,SMUT, READER HAS A COOCHIE, ORAL(F RECEIVING), DADDY KINK, BREEDING KINK(WRAP UR WILLYS IRL) CURSING

You don't remember exactly how you'd ended up with your legs spread as wide as they could go, but there you were panting like an animal in heat because the man between your thighs didn't know when to quit.

You think you'd made some off handed comment about being stressed? It was hard to remember with your pussy being devoured the way it was.

Your mind began to fuzz over with the insane amount of pleasure you were experiencing, he ate you like a beast, sloppy and messy and almost mean. You'd cum twice already just on his mouth and he gave no signs of slowing down. Incoherent whines of his name pulled a shiver inducing chuckle from him.

"I know baby," he spoke between licks, "-you're doing so good f'me." He had you on the edge of the bed, knees over his shoulders, he used his grip on your ass to pull you even deeper against his hot tongue. "Mmm, my girl tastes so fuckin' good- I don't know if I can stop." He sighed happily against your soaked core, your arousal dripped a mess down his chin but he hardly noticed, far to focused on pulling another wail of his name from your swollen lips, the still functioning part of your brain wondered who was enjoying this more, but the tell-tale sign of your end approaching quickly shut that part down, all you could do was brace yourself against his Egyptian cotton sheets and cry out for him, the rollercoaster of pressure caused tears to bead at your lower lash line, your fingers went from nearly tearing holes in the sheets to aimlessly pulling at his blue strands in an attempt to run from the feeling, yet you also grinded that much harder, like your body didn't know what sensation to listen to, he made the choice for you, licking a firm line from your twitching hole up to your bud, wrapping his plush lips around your clit, he made sure to look you in the eye before he sucked so hard your vision went black.

The intensity had you letting out the sweetest mewl He'd ever heard, your thighs shaking as he worked you through it, "There we go- c'mom sweetie gimmie' one more." His wicked smile gleamed down at your spent form, a thick finger gently teased your messy cunt until he curled it upward, the motion only extending the orgasm.

He coo'd up at your panting form, loving how fucked out you looked just from some foreplay, he stood to lean over you and kiss what little breath you had away, moaning into your mouth as he felt you gently massage his tongue with your own, tasting yourself, the sight making his cock jump. He pulled away, kneeling before you in all in glory and trailed a hand down his statuesque body, you eyed him with just as much hunger as his own gaze.

"You still want me to fuck you baby? Think you can take it?" He asked almost cocky, head tilted to the side as he watched the fire return to your eye. "I know I can take it-" the words died on your tongue as he moved his hand to hold his dickprint through the low hanging gray sweats he had on, even through the fabric you could see he was big, thick too, precum had left a dark stain where you assumed the tip was. Swallowing dryly you nodded, the nervous buzz at his size was far outweighed by your excitement.

You moved to sit on your knees, since he was standing this put you at eye level with the monster he was working with. Your nails danced up his body leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, he shuddered at the sensation, a whine nearly left his throat when you began playing with his happy trail. "Shit- you're gonna make me bust without touching it." He laughed out taking your hands in his much larger ones.

"I gotta to fuck you princess." He smiled down as you began to paw at his remaining clothes. "Then do it." You finally managed to speak again, pressing a few kisses up his happy trail until you met his lips. He nearly fell from how fast he took off his pants, the two of you shared an mix of kisses and giggles as he laid you down.

Butterflies danced wildly in your tummy as he hovered above you placing his lips on every inch of skin he could, he leaned over on both hands, his chain tickled you as he moved to sit on his knees. "Tell me if it's too much okay baby girl?" He waited until your nod to take his hand and grab his twitching dick, he slid the hot tip against your folds, teasingly tapping it against your clit just to see you twitch. After making sure he was good and lubed up, he began to gently but firmly push his way inside.

The hiss he made as he inched his way in had you soaking the sheets even more, his eyes fluttered closed as the head slowly popped in. "Oh my fucking-oh fuck okay- shit gimme a sec- god damn I almost came." He laughed breathlessly before it turned into a long moan, he couldn't help but rock his hips, small circles had him going deeper and deeper with every thrust.

You'd taken to digging your nails into the muscle of his toned back as hard as you could in an effort not to wake the neighbor's. "You're so big- mmmh fuck oh, oh god." You whined out throwing your head into his neck at the burning stretch, it felt too fucking good, he was reaching places even you didn't know you were sensitive.

"Bite me." He huffed out, not asking but telling and you instantly complied, a good thing since he took the chance to pull nearly all the way out before slamming home. His groan was downright salacious, your wails muffled by his skin, you bit down so hard you'd leave a bruise but this only egged him on. He whined praises in your ear as he set an unforgiving pace, the loud, sloppy sounds were like a symphony to him. His grunts and growls barely drowned out by the lewd noises coming from your pretty pussy.

He chanted your name like a prayer as he bullied his cock into you, the vice like grip you had on him had his mind going blank, he couldn't get enough of that electrifying feeling he got as he continuously pounded into your sex. He suddenly sat up, using your hips as handles he began pulling you to meet his harsh thrusts.

He loved how you cried for him, how you begged, the pretty way your face twisted when he hit that particular spot. He knew then and there he'd never get enough of being so close to you. And that he'd be the only person to ever see this side of you again.

He trailed his hand up your soft stomach, fingers spread wide to firmly press against the bump in your lower tummy. "Feel me right here? This is where I belong." He didn't stop until he felt you gush around him, the breathy moans he let out had you twitching. He pulled out of you with a hiss, you whined at the lack of contact making him grin, "Don't worry baby- I just wanna try somethin' kay?" He pressed a sweet kiss to you cheek before sitting against the headboard and patting his muscular thighs.

"C'mon, i'ma get so deep like this watch." He sounded so giddy as he helped your shaking figure into his lap. You both watched in amazement as you sat down, both in awe at how such a big thing could disappear, you couldn't help but cry at the stretch, he wasn't joking you felt him in your throat, he began panting like a dog as you slowly rocked your core against his.

Big strong hands gripped at your hips so hard there was no doubt you'd have finger shaped bruises tomorrow but you'd wear them with pride. It took every ounce of self control not to immediately fuck up into you, he groaned out all sorts of curses in Spanish in an attempt to keep his cool, a task that seemed impossible with the sweet little whines and broken moans of his name coming from your mouth.

You tried to match his pace from before but the way he was blowing your back out left you with little energy. He'd coo at the visible frustration on your face, the way you tried to keep a steady pace but clearly got tired had him blushing, god he loved that expression on you, your eyes were lidded, your skin was hot, you looked as if you were meant to be there, bouncing on his cock in that hypnotic rhythm, one of your hands pressed against his abdomen to keep balance the other held the back of his neck in a vice, "Nnng-fuck, atta girl, keep going you can do it." He'd encourage through his choppy moans, the sinful grin he sported only spurred you on. He had to fight the primal urge to flip you on your stomach and just ruin you.

"Please baby- s'too much." You whined at the burn in your thighs, the gut punch that was his dick felt soo good but he loved making you work for it, you'd only been on top for a few minutes but already the need for pleasure outweighed anything else at the moment, you couldn't help but slow your bounce to grind, he was so deep it knocked the breath from you with every roll of your hips.

"You need some help baby? Better ask me right." His hands gently pushed you back until he slipped out of you completely, the sticky reddened tip slapping just under your bellybutton.

The sight sending a jolt up your back, how on earth was that just in you? The mess you two were making left a puddle beneath you both and the image made his eyes darken.

"Please Daddy? Y'feel too good." Your breathy pleading was met with a bruising kiss, his hot tongue slipping between your lips. "That's my girl." His pupils were blown out as he pressed his mouth against your chest in a sloppy trail of kisses.

He worked his way up to the juncture between your neck and shoulder, placing his lips there gently before sinking his teeth into the flesh, when he was satisfied with his mark he took your earlobe between his teeth enjoying the sweet whines it pulled from you.

That be all the warning you'd get before he'd flipped you on your tummy, giving your ass an appreciative squeeze with both hands, and waste no time plunging back inside your warmth.

He wouldn't hide his moans, guttural sounds coming from deep in his chest, the hand not gripping the fat of your ass would gently take your fingers in his own, he sucked dark marks into the nape of your neck, making sure to lick at you ear in the way that had your pussy gushing.

The pace he set was unrelenting, the constant knock from the headboard hitting the wall spurred him to pound into you even harder. He turned your sweaty face to the side, brushing the hair from you eye with a tender look, the sweet kiss would immediately turn hot as he sucked your tongue pulling away with a pop, the lewd expression he stared down at you with had you clenching around him. "You feel so fuckin' good-squeezing me so tight. Fuck, god damn it your gonna' make me lose my mind."

The room was thick with the heavy scent of sex, both of your moans bouncing around paired with the constant buzz of pleasure had that coil in your tummy tight, sweat drenched and panting, he smiled into the kiss he gave you. "You close Mi Amor? I can feel you twitchin' round me." He felt his breath pick up, groaning against your lips, "Mmh-fuck gonna let Daddy fill you baby? Gonna let me fuck you full?" Unable to speak you babbled out what you hoped was yes, nodding your head to the best of your ability, your mind under the most wonderful blissed out haze. His nose scrunched at the adorable display, he loved how sweet you could be despite he the way he was bullying his dick inside you.

"Open your eyes- wanna look at you when I make you cum." He cut himself off with a groan, his balls tightened at the way you greedily sucked him in, and like the good girl you were your eyes snapped open, he growled out his praises as he pressed his forehead against your own, your nails left streaks of red down his back and he could feel himself get that much closer, it wasn't until your last broken wail of his name did he let himself be swept away, the way your pussy clamped down around him as you came for the umpteenth time that night had his hips stuttering, he pressed into you as deep as he could, his eyes rolled back as he let himself fill you, each spurt of his hot cum had him shivering.

He all but collapses atop you, making sure not to crush you under his weight, he remains inside, way too sensitive to attempt moving, plus he loved how warm you felt. Your hands began playing with his short cyan locks, pulling the cutest pleased hum from him, after a few moments of blissed out silence he regained enough energy to lift his hand for a high five.

You gave him one, naturally, and he caught your hand, intertwining your fingers.

"We're kinda fucking amazing at that- hoooly shit." He giggled out, still out of breath, the bear of a man stared up at you from his spot between your legs looking far less feral than he did mere moments ago, you returned his blissful grin and kissed his fingers.

"We kinda are."

[delicrieux]

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”. 

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.  word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie​:  y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!” 

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

queen rly went from  🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing. 

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.” 

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live 

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜 

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall. 

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets. 

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout. 

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times  u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

[sailorhyunjinz]

𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖘 𝐈𝐈

© 2021 SailorHyunjinz ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

Pairing; Bartender!Changbin x Fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warning ; ANGST!!! SMUT!! skz side characters, semi-slow burn, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, depiction of mental disorders, consumption of alcohol, tobacco use, dysfunctional families, mentions of undereating, vague hints to eating d-sorders mentions of crimes, mentions of blades, fainting, mentions of dr-g use, arguments, mentions of savior complex, mentions of childhood neglect, depiction of depression, mentions of needles, mentions of blades, yelling, mentions of hangover, parental issues (lmao cherry just say daddy issues), arguments

𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 ; PIV, unprotected sex, hair pulling, drooling, getting caught, masturbation, fingering, clitoral stimulation, orgasm (f). 

(fic header made by @yjeongs! thank u cora <33) 

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ; 10.0 k 

From one survivor to another; cheers you guys. 

O N E ｜ T W O

                        ⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ Playlist ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Drugs N Hella Melodies - Don Toliver, Kali Uchis

Life is a Bi... - Bibi 

cigarette and condom - Bibi 

Empty Trash - LØREN 

Noir - Sunmi 

NEED - LØREN

Pretty Boy - The Neighbourhood

(hint hint look at the lyrics <33)

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 18.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈 ; 𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐚

Three months.

Three months of booze, questionable substances, friends and most importantly. 

Him.

Seo Changbin. 

You never knew you could feel this deep about someone, there hadn’t been a reason earlier in your life since everyone in it either used you or abused you. But you knew he was different from the first time you saw him that night in the dark room, injured and surrounded by 7 other boys that were now your closest friends. Why would anyone ever want to leave this place? There was everything! Free drinks, ear-deafening music and your boyfriend. This was heaven for a hurt soul like you, so why would anyone search for an exit in this box of traitors? 

“O-oh fuck! Changbin!” you cried out as the momentum of his thrusts made you jolt forward, hands desperately trying to grab onto the black leather of the sofa you and him had made love on countless times, the door always being unlocked since there wasn’t a lock and this damn parallel universe wasn’t gonna install one anytime soon. 

Changbin grabbed your hair, twisting it around his hand as he pounded into you from the back, the supple valleys of your ass wobbling with each movement. Your voice became frail, stuttering and moaning his name in broken syllables along many other pleas and swearwords, the way your words became incoherent the longer he fucked you made his head lull backwards, pure music to his ears unlike that shitty music that blasted through the speakers on the dancefloor that was just next to the tiny dark room that was currently filled with the scent of sex and lust. Your head was tilted up, eyes tightly shut as you clenched around Changbin’s leaking cock that was jackhammering into your wet cunt, his dick glistening with your slick every time his hips moved away from you and reflected in the minimal light of the room. He grunted as all kinds of lewd sounds were heard from you, the skin slapping against each other and the squelching noise of your pussy being filled with his cock. His hands had a tight grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as the pleasure surged through every nerve of his body, sweat beading around on his temples. Your arms could barely hold you up, quivering and risking to collapse under you causing you to put your head towards the seat, warm cheek against the slightly cold leather. With your back fully arched your ass perked up, Changbin hitting exactly the right place in this position, a small stream of drool hanging from the corner of your swollen lips. You were so close to your release, hanging on by a thread to not tip over the edge and be sent spiraling down an earth shaking orgasm. 

“C-changbin, I’m gonna f-fucking cum” you stutter, reaching your hands backwards to which he let go of your hair and instead grabbed your wrists, holding you in place and pushing you down onto his cock. Your voice was no longer a whimper but instead a scream, goosebumps erupting on your soft skin as you panted, Changbin viciously thrusting inside you and being fueled by your pleasured sounds, he got off by the fact that you felt good. You were so close. So close.

“QUICK!! FELIX FUCKING FAINTED” Jisung said, bursting through the door but immedietly regretting his decision as he yelled out into the room that was now filled with your yelp and the loud club music from outside. 

“For fuck sake Jisung! Knock!” Changbin growled at the boy, you trying to grab your clothes off the floor and desperately covering yourself as Jisung stod in the doorway with panicked eyes, flailing his arms around in an anxious state. He was more appalled by seeing Felix passed out than he was seeing Changbin fucking you from behind. 

“NO TIME FOR KNOCKING, JUST FUCKING MOVE” he said, signaling his hands to follow him. In a haste you put on your clothes that weren’t much more than a skirt and a tight shirt, oh and of course your sexy panties, you had leveled up from your previous looks that made you look like a distressed mother of 4. Now you knew when you were gonna pass out and you even teleported in the phonebooth instead of injuring your head against the wall as you fainted. Changbin did the same, putting on only his pants as he ran after Jisung, you following shortly after, scared about what you were gonna witness.

The main dance floor looked like it usually did. People high, drunk or both, dancing and singing their hearts out, falling over and tumbling down on the floor. The whole place reeked of straight liquor and the music was loud enough for anyone to go deaf. You held Changbin’s hand as he dragged you through the crowd, not letting his eyes go from Jisung’s figure that was leading the both of you to the back end of the club, pushing through people and muttering small apologies that couldn’t be heard by even yourself. When you got to the end of the big place you saw Felix, his back and head against the table as he was completely knocked out, his legs dangling from the end of the rectangular table. You climbed on top of the soft seatings of the booth, putting your cheek near his nose and mouth. You didn’t hear if he was breathing but you were assured as you felt his cold breath against your hot flesh, sighing in relief. 

“How is he?!” Jisung yelled, “is he dying?”

You shook your head, grabbing his limp wrist and putting your pointer and middle finger on the underside of his limb, his veins not visible in the dark lighting of the club. His pulse was stable, beating faintly. 

“He’ll be alright!” you yelled back, the concerned gazes of the other boys standing around the boy exhaling as they heard your words, Changbin going closer to Felix and putting his hand on his shoulder, shaking the boy and repeating his name over and over again but to no avail. Seungmin rubbed the palm of his hand against his exposed forehead as his hair was pushed back.

“I’ll stay here with him, Changbin fetch me a water bottle and,,, wait,,, why did he even faint in the first place?” he asked, the boys looking at each other until they landed on Jisung that looked distressed, his pinkish lips quivering. 

“Probably a nice concoction of no food and only alcohol” he said, peering down at his black boots, his hair flopping onto his face, too shy to meet the gazes of his friends as if he had done something wrong himself. Seungmin could only sigh, you patting Jisung on the back as you walked through the jumping crowd again, the song changing as you heard Seungmin say “get him something Changbin”, their voices fading into the beat as you walked with Jisung behind you. 

Jisung slammed the door as you two were back in the room that had only moments earlier been filled with helpless whimpers and pleas. You threw yourself on the wrinkly couch, looking away in shyness when remembering that Jisung had caught the two of you even if everyone knew that you guys fucked in that very same room whenever there was time and Changbin wasn’t standing in the bar. The young boy sat down on the dark floor, leaning his elbow against the seat of the sofa as his twinkling eyes met yours. 

“I,,, just don’t understand” he said, you tilting your head in wonder as he uttered those words.

“Don’t understand what Sungie?” you said, the walls almost vibrating from the bass of the song from outside. He sighed as he momentarily looked away from you. 

“Felix,,, like it’s so clear that he needs help, just over the last few months his cheeks have sunken in and his eyes are completely matte and lifeless” he said, his voice trembling as a lump of tears was stuck in his throat. 

“But aren’t you the same Jisung? You need help too, help to stop thinking that everyone is your responsibility. I understand that you want to help him,,, but you carrying everyone's emotional baggage has landed you here. Felix will get help by those that are capable of getting him that help, you aren’t Jisung.”

His eyes shot up at you, dark as his eyebrows furrowed, his jaw clenching in anger. He felt attacked, commenting on his actions usually made him feel offended. 

“I am capable of helping him. What about you then huh? You can’t even help your own boyfriend” he snarked, running his hand over his hair in frustration. You rolled your eyes at him, watching him as he bit the inside of his cheek. He needed to do that, he couldn’t tell you the fact that one day your boyfriend is just gonna disappear since he’s actually taking matters into his own hands and getting help. 

“Don’t say that Jisung, we both try our best,,, let’s not fight over something we can’t control” you say, your voice getting frail by the end of the sentence.

“Can’t control? We can, we can help each other!” he said, banging the palm of his hand against the warm leather of the couch, making you jump in fear. You dropped down on your knees, your eyes being on the same level as his as you looked at him, the young boy diverting his gaze immediately.

“Jisung, look at me.” You grabbed his other hand that was resting in his lap against the rough material of his jeans. “We try, that’s the best we can do. Change comes from within. Nobody can save us if we don’t save ourselves.” Jisung sighed loudly, swallowing harshly, the both of you flinching when somebody burst through the black door. Changbin was carrying Felix on his back, the male still passed out on his broad shoulders. Your boyfriend looked puzzled at the scene before him. His girlfriend holding hands with one of his closest friends, sitting close enough to feel his breath against her cheek, both looking like two helpless deers caught in headlights. He furrowed his eyebrows as he walked into the room, throwing Felix off his shoulder and positioning him into a semi-prone position in order to open the airways. You and Jisung stood up, looking at the blonde boy and how his eyelashes layed gently against his lower eyelid. Changbin looked at Felix for a while before turning to you with a serious expression. 

“So,,, what happened here?” he said to which you shrugged.

“Me and Jisung just talked,,, about Felix” you answered, Changbin uttering a little “oh” as his previous rather unfaithful suspicions were proven to be false. “There’s no need to worry, he’s breathing so he won’t be in any medical danger as of right now but somebody needs to keep an eye on him,,, in case something changes.” You smiled at him talking.

“Alright doctor Changbin” you said while giggling, hugging him and him wrapping his sturdy arms around you, looking at Jisung’s mellow expression, eyes brimming with tears as he sat down on his knees on the floor once again, pushing a lock of hair from Felix’s delicate face, cupping his cheek that was once plump but now gaunt. Changbin pulled away from your comforting embrace and patted Jisung on the shoulder, bending his knees to get closer to him. 

“Do you wanna keep an eye on him, Ji?” he asked to which the boy nodded, not answering with words, not even a gaze at the male that was talking to him. He turned around to look at you, pointing his chin towards the door, signaling for the two of you to get out and leave the two boys alone to which you nodded, following Changbin out and gently closing the door behind you by turning the knob and releasing it slowly. The music got louder and louder as you two walked in the long corridor before ending up on the main floor, the corridor going to the bar and you could only get onto the dance floor by exciting through the wooden gate of the bar. 

“I’ll go find the others, you should work!!” you yelled through the music and Changbin nodded, giving you a kiss on the lips before you exited through the gate, being careful to knock any of the liquor bottles on the walls over and causing a ruckus like you’d done once before, being black-out drunk and trying to hobble your way through to god knows where, accidentally swinging your arms towards the shelfs. Luckily everything restores itself in this universe.

People were doing their usual activities in all corners of the club, making out against a wall or jumping, spilling their drinks on the floor that Changbin would have to mop up afterwards when he steps in the sticky liquid that pressed up against ones shoe. It was impossible to see who was who in the dark room, the neon lights on the roof changing colors but not making it easier for you, especially not with the commotion around you, individuals bumping into each other. In the distance you saw a hand waving, a familiar hand that was decked out in maybe a thousand silver rings, all with intricate designs that could only be seen from up close. Next thing you see is Hyunjin jumping, the bedazzled hand belonging to the long haired blonde male that always made sure to use the most expensive perfume. You made your way over to him, the male smiling brightly as he sat down on the edge of the cubical sofa, the other males being around the table that Felix was lying unconscious on just a brief moment earlier. The table was filled with half empty beer bottles along with red glimmering packs of cigarettes that belonged to some of them. Hyunjin patted the seat next to him, scooting closer to Jeongin that was ruffling his slightly sweaty hair, putting the bottle green top against his lip and taking a sip, his adam's apple moving as he swallowed. 

Hyunjin was different, different from anyone else in this place. You’d expect him to have the best life imaginable due to his family background. His father was the CEO of an influential business and his mother being his fathers assistant, both living a lavish life and providing for their only son, Hyunjin. But no amount of wealth can buy happiness. You don’t know the entire story but what you have heard when he was drunk and barely able to speak is that he was bullied all throughout school, struggling with the pressure being put on him by his parents to become a businessman just like his father. It ate Hyunjin alive to everyday go to sleep and feel like a failure that wasn’t able to live up to his parents expectations. He wasn’t worth this lifestyle he thought as he mindlessly doodled on the edge of his college application papers, it was easier to end it. He felt like a coward, always taking the easy way out but that’s how he’d lived his entire life. Getting help wasn’t an option, it would bring shame upon the family if anyone found out that he went to therapy and besides, his family didn’t believe in mental illnesses, it was simply to “go on a run” to feel better. “Then why the fuck am I not feeling better? I’ve ran miles but my mind runs faster” he wrote in the small black notebook he kept in his bedside table, hiding it together with his cigarettes under piles of papers and books. That’s how he ended up here, being together in a little group consisting of Chan and Minho along with some other people that had already departed from the place he felt the safest. 

You gave a smile to Hyunjin, grabbing the beer bottle in front of him, earning a little “hey!” from him but you drank it anyway as you laughed at his reaction, the bitterness spreading throughout your mouth. You exhaled, putting the bottle down harshly, the loud sound being drowned out by the music. Hyunjin laughed along with you, he seemed kinda distant, his pupils dilated. With furrowed eyebrows you looked at the other boys that looked back at you in a confused manner. 

“Something wrong y/n?” Seungmin asked, his cheeks slightly red from the heat that was radiating off everybody in the room, the tension heightening the temperature. Your eyes landed on Minho who looked equally as dazed as Hyunjin, looking up at the ceiling as the crown of his head rested against the dark walls in an uncomfortable manner. 

“You guys definitely did something” you said to which Hyunjin laughed, now stealing Minho’s drink since he was completely immersed at how the colors changed. 

“Of course we did,,, if we were gonna do it, why not here?” he said, looking at you through hooded eyes, his gaze sharp as pin needles, the black smudged eyeliner around his eyes not making it easier to escape the way you drowned in them. It was true, here was the place where you could be yourself, do whatever you pleased and act reckless as long as you didn’t hurt anybody, a rule Minho found difficult. It’s not that he wanted to hurt people, it’s just that he couldn’t help himself. Something bad was gonna happen if he didn’t. So that’s what the switchblade was for, not to hurt anyone but just in case he needed to add another felony to his list. You didn’t even wanna know what substances that ran through his veins but you felt bad for him. He was a slave to his own thoughts, sometimes even his own actions. He had no other choice but to obey them, do everything that the voices whispered faintly into his ear, a serenade of revenge to everyone that has never believed in him, considered him a shame and neglected him. No, not him. His inner child. 

Seungmin grabbed the red carton of cigarettes, the crimson wrapper unfolding itself when he opened the lid and grabbed one of the deathsticks whose orange ends were looking up at him. He picked one up, putting it to his lips and patting down his sides in search for a lighter but to no avail. He sighed out of the corner of his mouth, gesturing towards Hyunjin by flicking his pointer finger upwards, the blonde boy reaching over to his pocket and retrieving a white lighter that he put on the glossy mahogany table and scooted across it, Seungmin grabbing it as it nearly fell to his feet. He thanked Hyunjin by lazily saluting with two fingers before igniting the cigarette, the deep purple fading out into a light orange at the tip of the flame, the smoke evaporating around Seungmin as he puffed, exhaling straight ahead of him, poor Jeongin beside him coughing. 

“What’s even the purpose of these?” Jeongin said, grabbing the packet and examining it closely, twisting and turning the small box.

“What’s the purpose of your life?” Seungmin answered with an evil laugh, you wanting to bend over the table and smack him across the face for talking like that to the youngest. Jeongin shrugged his shoulders, smirking at Seungmin.

“Touchè I guess” he said, a smile hiding his pain. “Can I get one?” he said as he nudged Seungmin on the shoulder, the boy already taking his second puff. Seungmin didn’t answer, simply placing the cigarettes and Hyunjin’s white lighter in front of him. You stared at Seungmin in disbelief for a moment before throwing yourself over Hyunjin’s lap, grabbing the two objects and clutching them tightly in your hand. Hyunjin flinched at the sudden commotion, all the boy’s eyes were on you, tilting their heads like confused puppies. 

“Don’t you even dare Yang Jeongin” you said, him looking at you with twinkling innocent eyes. He nodded and you turned your head back to Seungmin. “And you, no actually all of you, quit it” you said, a moment of silence flew by before all of them bursted out in laughter.

“fucking,,, tell that to your boyfriend first” Minho said, him finally awake from his trance “if you manage to get him to stop then we’re all with you y/n” he said, laughing, his two front teeth poking out like a rabbit. You sighed, looking at the four boys but noticing Chan was missing. 

“Where’s Chan?” you asked, Seungmin shrugging as he exhaled grey smoke again.

“He hasn’t arrived yet,, don’t know what he’s up to” he answered, putting the orange end to his plump lips, pink in color but this being impossible to see in the changing neon lighting. “I wonder how Lixie is doing,,,” he added with a sigh. Good you hoped, the last three months have been nothing but a downward spiral to hell for the boy, everyday the gleam from his eyes got duller and duller until they were matte with fatigue. You remember a distinct moment that happened in the first couple of weeks in the club, you still getting to know the peculiar characters that moved around in this place. Felix was sitting in the bar, you sitting right next to him, the whole conversation was difficult to hear due to the music and chatter from people but you guys made do. 

“You know that song? By Radiohead?” he said. You shrugged and shook your head.

“Which one?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink that was unfortunately made by another bartender, Changbin not being there yet. 

“That one where they sing ‘I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul’” he said with a giggle, grabbing his glass and taking a swig of the poison in his glass, decorated with lemons and limes. You laughed with him, not knowing what he meant, thinking he was just spewing random words at you from being intoxicated. 

“Yeah, what about it?” you said, the young boy’s smile fading away as he gulped, placing down the drink. 

“I don’t know,,, I often listen to it on the bus or home alone,,, it tells me something but I can’t place my finger on what exactly” he said with a loud sigh, resting his cheek on his hand that was bent against the dark wooden bar. 

“Isn’t it the lyrics?” you said, “the fact that you want to be perfect in every way?” Felix hummed for a minute before nodding his head slowly. 

“It’s not even that I want to be perfect because that’s what society taught me,,, it’s because I live in a false reality where I believe that people will love me and appreciate me more if i tweak everything” he blurted out, going silent and sipping his drink slowly. 

“I’m happy that you know that it’s false but,,, what’s stopping you?” you asked, looking at the boy whose eyes were gazing at the wooden stick inside his drink, stirring it over and over again. 

“Because,,, if I stop,,, I won’t be sick enough” 

The both of you got silent after he remarked those words. Felix got silent because he thought he’d said something wrong. You got silent because you knew how that felt, that someone was going through your struggles. 

“You don’t prove anything by that Felix. I k-know this is gonna sound stupid and you’ve heard it so many times but,,, just know that I love you no matter how you look. I’m happy that you’re here Lixie” 

You looked at him and his dark brown eyes met yours, glittering once again, rounded as if he’d heard the best news of his life. He opened his arms and you stood up on the floor, hugging him and squeezing him by the sides.

“I’m happy that you are here too y/n” he whispered in your ear, barely audible from the loud bumping of the music. You pulled off the hug and shimmied up the bar stool again, putting the transparent glass edge to your lips and feeling the liquor trickle down your throat. 

“I was thinking of getting those words tattooed on me but now that I think about it, I want those words tattooed on me but with a big red x over it.” You smiled together with him, his dimples being carved into those freckled cheeks along with his bleak eyeshadow, his lips a cherry tint. 

“You should.”

“Oh fuck-” you cursed as you woke up on your living room floor that was covered in dust and crumbs that was a trail all the way to the kitchen. You sighed every time you were back in reality, in the cursed world that wanted nothing else but to crush you under its fingertips. A patter was heard from outside, gentle raindrops decorating your windows as they were falling from the dusky skies. The rain was at least better you thought, in the sun you felt immense guilt for not being as happy as everyone around you, scrolling through your phone and seeing pictures of old classmates on trips and drinking out in the basking sun, wearing sundresses and hats. Being picturesque.

You made your own fun. Late wine nights and therapy appointments early in the morning where you get drilled with information that you could actually use to get better but you decide to cancel it all out. It was impossible to take in. Or maybe you wanted this now? Like Felix said, you wanted to remain sick enough even if there is no such thing. It used to be about not wanting to leave your comfort zone as odd as it sounds. You had struggled with your mental health for as long as you could remember and getting better would mean that you would have to make active changes in your life that at the moment didn’t seem appealing. But now it wasn’t about that. It was about Changbin. Getting better would mean that you would have to leave him, not only him but all the other friends you made at the club for the last months. They felt closer than family especially since you’d barely had one in the past. You wanted to stay by Changbin for forever but did you want to suffer for just as long?

Little did you know, Changbin didn’t. 

You stood up from the wooden floorboards, stepping closer to the balcony door and seeing the rain cover the streets, lonesome people walking with umbrellas and rain jackets through the storm, probably on their way home to a delicious home cooked meal, a comfortable bed and a stable mind. You only had one of those things but you, in contrast from before the club, didn’t get jealous when you saw those people down at the rainy street. You had your own happiness that was Changbin.

Every time you said his name your heart started racing, your knees almost bent underneath you as you walked back to the couch, no lights turned on in the entire odorous apartment. With a thump you fell with your back against the comforting material, once again being swallowed by a fort of pillows and clothes that you haven’t been bothered to put away. The tv display stood blank, your silhouette reflecting in the matte sheen of the screen, your face almost hanging low with boredom. What was there to do when you weren’t in Changbin’s secure arms? 

It was as if his name rolled off your tongue. Smooth as butter, sweet as syrup. You closed your eyes, eyelashes fluttering against your cheek, tickling the sensitive skin on your face. Underneath your lids pictures flashed by in bright colors, not from imagination but from memory. The pictures radiated their energy through your entire body, sending shivers down to the tips of your toes as you saw the faces of your best friends and boyfriend, their smiles creating red apples on their cheeks. 

You wondered how many of those smiles were fake. 

A wave of arousal shot through your body as remembered the events that took place before Jisung had a chance to ruin them, how Changbin grunted next to your ear, his hot breath teasing the shell of your ear as he whispered, the movements of his hips going from rolling to pounding, the room filling with the lewd noises of skin slapping against each other accompanied with your tiny whimpers, pleading him to make you cum. You couldn’t help but to rub your legs together, shifting in the grey sofa that was decorating your trash pile of a living room, the other decor pieces being empty bottles and white used tissues that were tiny houses to your tears. You peeked down quickly, seeing that you were still in your party clothes that consisted of a shirt and a short skirt that was sitting kinda lopsided on the base of your hips, hugging your skin tightly. With a rapid hand you removed the garment by unzipping it by the side, kicking the fabric towards the end of the couch with your feet that were bare, you managed to toss your sneakers away whilst you were deep in your imaginations. Except for the bright colors in your mind, the rest of the apartment was dark, not a single light being switched on. Your light source for many of your lonesome nights were the grey poles on which a bulbous light hung, a so-called street light. The blue cold light shone inside, deep dark shadows being casted on the walls by the trees that decorated the sidewalk. 

Lines started to blur between the real and the fake, not sure if you actually felt Changbin’s hands wrapped around your neck or if it was just yet another illusion your mind has decided to put forward. You could feel the warmth from his hands surging down your neck, soothing your heart in a comforting way. It was as if you were being held in a way that made your blood run south, loved and aroused at the same time. It was as if a ball of warmth bubbled inside you, encapsulating you in its aura of happiness and distraction, your hand teasing the the skin on your lower abdomen before it plunged beneath the small pair of cotton panties that had been violently pulled off by your boyfriend some time ago, exactly how much was something you couldn’t tell, the universe simply didn’t allow time. 

Time is an arrow. 

It always goes forward. 

Under the thin elastic your fingers started moving on their own, like they knew what to do, almost imitating what Changbin had done so many nights prior to this one on that murky couch. You couldn’t help but to wonder if he missed you right this moment. Was was he doing? What was he thinking? You wondered if he thought about you whenever he pleasured himself, if it was your name that echoed in the four empty walls of his broken down apartment whenever he came. The thought of his hand wrapped around his cock as he groaned made you sweat, the skin on the underside your knees sticking to each other as your knees were bent, soles flat against the frowning sofa. Automatically you spread your legs, one resting against the wallpapered surface as the other one hung out from the edge of the sofa. With your middle finger you felt the slippery surface, gathering your slick as you swiped up your finger, coating the sensitive bud in stickiness. You clenched around nothing, thinking about how Changbin whispered his praises in a sweet tone like a serenade.

“You’re doing so well y/n, fuck,,, you’re so pretty princess”

You nodded despite there being no one to see, small whimpers forcing their way out of your throat as two fingers circled your clit, spreading one pussy lip with a third finger, widening the area of contact. Your spine arched at anticipation, a faraway feeling approaching with quick strides as you squirmed your hips, butt digging into couch cushions as your gently pinched your slick-covered clit. Your hole was practically begging for more, velvety walls throbbing for pleasure that you didn’t mind giving, slowly inserting your middle finger, followed by a second finger, hissing at the initial stretch and getting used to the feeling, wiggling your fingers inside just like Changbin always does but his fingers filled you up better accompanied by the small marks he left all over your torso and tits, sucking on your delicate nipples with his wet tongue, leaving a trail of saliva as he licked around the valley of your tits, the ticklish feeling causing you to throw your head back. 

“f-faster binnie” you said into thin air, there being no one to answer your request except your fingers that started going faster in and out of your squelching hole, using your thumb to nudge on your clit, desperately trying to move it in circles and moaning as pleasure built up in the pit of your core. You licked your lips, coating them in a thin sheen of spit, imagining his soft lips pressing up against yours, his tongue coaxing yours as he licked your bottom lip, nibbling on it before slipping it into your mouth, the soft surface meeting yours, a languid kiss being exchanged as he panted into the kiss, you whining gently in between breaths. Your hair stood in a mess as you rubbed your head against the fluffy pillow under you, a couple of stray pieces sticking to your forehead that was covered in a lustre of sweat, reflecting in the small amount of light that was looming in the room together with you. Your mind blurred with lewd scenes with him, curving your fingers inside you in order to reach your g-spot and being startled by your own moan when you did, it simply felt too good, especially when thinking that it was his fingers that plunged into your wetness. 

“Just a little bit more y/n,, o-oh shit,,, f-fuck i’m gonna cum”

His voice ringed in your ears, it didn’t have to be loud to be memorable and make your head spin with pure amativeness. Your fingers started to hurt from how vigorously you were pumping them inside yourself, bringing yourself to the edge as you imagined that it was Changbin’s cock, twitching and begging from release, wishing he would cum inside you and paint your walls in his milky white cum, the hot liquid oozing out of your swollen pussy. Your clit throbbed, your breathing getting uneven between your parted lips, your hand being slightly restricted by the fabric of your underwear. 

“Cum for me baby”

It was an automatic response. Your hips convulsing upwards, high-pitched moans bouncing off the walls as you continued to tease your clit, pulling out your fingers and rubbed the swollen bud up and down into overstimulation until you it hurt, your eyes tightly squeezed, small droplets of tears teasing the corners of your shut orbs. The high washed over you, from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes, every body part rushing with adrenaline before coming down in a state of repose. Slowly you withdrew your hand from beneath the fabric, the elastic snapping gently against your skin, fingertips glistening with your juicy release that now also coated your panties as it rubbed against the inside fabric. You slowly opened your eyes, vision blurry before focusing correctly, seeing nothing but darkness and vague outlines of objects. Night had fallen. You sighed, you were alone.A part of you wished at Changbin had been there whenever your glittering doe-eyes sprung open, your plushy lips being met with his but alas you couldn’t get everything in life.

Except that you couldn’t even get anything. At all.

“Binnie!!!” you shouted as soon as you opened your eyes as you woke up on the floor, looking around confused as your voice echoed in the room. You rubbed your eyes, the familiar automated voice and its words still stuck in your head.

“Uh? Over here y/n”

You heard his voice, the sweet tune hitting your eardrums, you looked at the direction of the sound and noticed that you were lying on the main dance floor. No music. No people. You stood up with wobbly knees, looking around and being shone on by a spotlight on the ceiling, watching Changbin drying off a couple of glasses with a kitchen towel, a brown apron sitting snugly around his waist, another piece of useless fabric that hid his well-sculpted body. 

“W-why is there no one here? Are we glitching again?!” your voice panicked as your gaze was busy, landing everywhere from the meaningless neon green exit sign pointing to nowhere to the colorful transparent liquor bottles on the shelves behind your lover. Changbin let out a little snark as he put the glass down, throwing the cloth over his shoulder and leaning on the wooden bar counter.

“No y/n, sometimes many people are busy and that’s when you don’t teleport here,,, you know that already”

You let out a small “oh” in realization before walking over to the bar and throwing yourself into a chair lazily, tapping the table with your pointer finger twice, a quiet signal for help. The kind that alcohol provided. Changbin didn’t say anything, simply scooping some ice into a low glass with pretty carved out details at the bottom, the black haired boy filling up the glass with whiskey, the brown liquid seeping between the cubes of frozen water. It was oddly silent in the club, not from the fact that there wasn’t anyone else there but there was this awkward feeling between the two of you, as cold as the ice cubes that the champagne bottles were resting inside a iron bucket full of ice underneath the bar on one of the shelves. 

“So uhm,,, was everything alright yesterday?” he asked in a low voice, peering at you through hooded eyelids as he tilted the glass, pouring another liquor bottle and pouring the substance in. 

Memories of the night prior flashed past your eyelids causing you to almost choke on your saliva. Changbin looked at you suspiciously, furrowing his eyebrows as he put the glass on the coaster in front of you, watching you gulp down the poison. He had something on his mind, the words were basically danging off his pink lips but he hesitated, something stopped him every time he tried to open his jaw and let the words pour out in a puddle of word-vomit on the floor. The words were lodged in his throat like a boulder, he didn’t know how to say it.

“Something wrong binnie?” you asked with a confused expression, your eyes filled with concerned. What if something had happened in a universe you couldn’t even reach, the boy wandering alone with his concerns? 

You took another sip from the glass, frowning as the alcohol stung your tongue and descended down your esophagus like a ball of fire, observing the contents that you were drinking partly because you were interested in what concoction your boyfriend had made but mostly cause you didn’t want to look him in the eyes in this frigid atmosphere. He shook his head, giving you a non-verbal answer. 

You didn’t believe him. 

By the way his jaw clenched to the awkward posture as he stared at you, he had something to confess and you weren’t sure if you were ready for it, thinking that maybe it would be easier to not ask about it anymore and live in oblivion. 

“Come on~ I know you well enough to know that something isn’t quite right” you said, resting your chin in the palm of your hand, eyeing your boyfriends godly figure, practically drooling over him on the spot. 

“Hmm,,, y-yeah ok,, I do have something to say but,,, I’m not sure how to” he started, your heart starting to beat faster with each syllable he pronounced, thinking that this was the end of your world because he was indeed your entire world. The reason you still smiled.

“Just say it baby, I won’t be angry” you said but not sure if you could keep your promise. 

“I got a place at rehab” 

You started laughing sarcastically, the boy standing perplexed behind the counter. 

“Wh-what’s so funny?” he asked shortly after. 

“You obviously said no, right?”

Silence erupted throughout the establishment, your smile was wiped off your face as you waited for an answer but you felt the tears start bubbling up in your glossy eyes as the silence went on, brimming and coaxing to fall down onto your warm cheek, his expression was blank, a canvas without a paint. In a rage of fit you threw your glass at the nearest wall, the glass shattering in a million pieces just like your heart, impossible to glue together. 

The ice cubes melted on the floor, liquid splattered on the dark glossy floor. There was no saving the broken pieces, it was simply to throw it in the trash. You couldn’t blame Changbin for being startled, backing to the wall that displayed the bottles of alcohol, small lights above them causing the flasks to reflect tiny fractals.

“What the fuck do you mean Changbin, huh?!” you yelled at him, salty tears streaming down your cheeks, hanging off your quivering lips. He could only exhale loudly from his nose, his dusky complexion losing its color the more stressed he got. 

“No, what do you mean? Are you actually serious about letting me rot in my life and not take help when I’ve finally gotten it?” he said, his tone growing louder with each word, him practically growling like a feral wolf. You couldn’t believe the word coming out of his lying mouth. Rot in his life? Why? He had you now. You were all he needed, right?

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier then?” Your voice was expressionless, a string tinted red with betrayal laced in your tone. 

“I was scared.”You scoffed, feeling the frustration in the pit of your stomach like a heavy weight, tears glittering in the bright lights that were on currently, shining down on you as if another dimension had opened. 

One without Changbin. 

With dark eyes you looked at him, a dumbfounded smile causing the corners of your lips to turn upwards, tasting the salt of your sadness as a droplet rolled down and into your mouth. “

I never want to see you again Changbin”

“Don’t say that y/n, p-please don’t say that.” 

His voice was drowsy like he hadn’t slept in days, your theory being more believable as you saw the dark bags under his blank eyes. He had been worrying, worried for your reaction. He took off the apron and put the kitchen towel on the nearest surface before hurrying to exit out through the gate and took strides towards your standing figure but you distanced yourself every time he got closer. You felt yourself getting smaller and smaller as his shadow towered over you, his face not showing compassion but rather irritation. 

“GET AWAY!!” you screamed in a ear-deafening screech, him barely flinching as he had seen worse things in his life than his heartbroken girlfriend getting pressed up against a wall with dark streaks of makeup and tears staining her face, plagued by treachery that was brought upon by the only one she trusted in her life.

Maybe this was deeper than just your boyfriend leaving you. Maybe this was a silent cry to stay and not leave like your father once did. Sure, he was around in your childhood but that’s the thing; he was around, never actively invested in what happened in the life of his child. You didn’t like to look into it. Hell, you barely wanted to talk about it but you couldn’t help but to wonder if that was the reason as to why you had a difficult time with goodbyes. It replayed memories, memories you’d rather forget. Or wish you never had in the first place. 

“The fuck-” said a recognazible voice that belonged to Minho, the male staggering out of the toilets in a hungover haze, scratching his hair as he yawned.

“Huh,,, how long have you been there?” Changbin said, him turning his head to look at Minho whilst standing mere inches from you, sandwiching you between his body and the dark walls. 

“I have no idea,,, just woke up and heard a scream” he replied lazily, still not really registering the situation that was unfolding in front of his very own eyes. You glared at Changbin before pushing him by the shoulders, thinking you would make a big impact but him only losing his balance for a few seconds, with fierce steps you bolted to Minho, the boy sliding his hand down into his pocket the closer you got causing you to stop dead in the tracks. 

You’d rather be heartbroken than deceased. 

“Did you know about this? Did you know that this motherfucker was going to fucking rehab?!” you yelled hysterically towards the boy that picked up a packet of cigarettes instead of a switchblade. He smirked as he put a cigarette in the corner of his mouth, not breaking eye contact with you for a second throughout the entire process, almost hypnotizing you with his looks. 

“Yeah,,, we all knew” that devilish smirk only signaling that he liked the pain he saw in other people, the white lighter in his hands flicking and emitting an orange and purple flame that slowly burned the tip of the deadly stick. 

You wanted to scream on the top of your lungs, break every single one of the bottles on the shelves in a fit of rage before breaking Changbin’s heart, shatter it in pieces and step on it like glass even if it would make shards stick to your wounded and bloody feet. But that’s life. You can never hurt someone without getting hurt back. 

“And so you all decided to be on his side? To defend a liar was the best your stupid fucking head could come up with?” you couldn’t even filter your words, whatever came to your mind rolled off your tongue as smoothly as the words “i love you” once had. 

“Hey y/n! Don’t say that! He had nothing to do with it” Changbin roared, stepping closer with his heavy black boots that could probably smash someone against the concrete by the telephone booth where thousands of stray souls wandered every hour of the short 24 hours we humans have in a day. He put his hand on your arm but you shoved him away, freeing your hand from his grasp and yelling inaudible words at the boy. 

“And that’s why you don’t date a psycho, am I right Changbin?” Minho laughed, lodging the cigarette between his pointer- and middle finger, blowing the smoke towards you as a careless gesture. Changbin looked done, rolling his eyes at the other boy before shaking his head, his hair bouncing in a fluffy manner as he moved. 

“Not now Min” he answered simply, keeping his composure but you on the other hand were boiling with anger, feeling your heartbeat in your ears. You let out a half laughter filled with sarcasm.

“Somehow the real psycho has the audacity to say that to me, huh? Who the fuck do you guys think you are? You guys think it’s cool to live like this?” you said, your voice becoming frail at the end of your sentence, breaking as new tears weighed on your eyelashes and dropped down on the floor beneath you. 

“No we don’t y/n and that’s why Changbin is getting help. Don’t you see it? You are hurting him by keeping him here.”

Minho’s words stung more than a thousand needles piercing through your raw flesh. 

He was right.

The entire relationship rested on a foundation of suffering that you fed with repeatedly withdrawing from help that could make you blossom into the person you once were. Deep down you knew that this relationship was impossible, you knew it before you even fell for him but the thing is that you didn’t choose to fall in love, it happens. There’s a reason as to why it’s called ‘falling in love’, because once you’ve jumped you can’t expect to stand on the top of the cliff again. Only at the view from halfway down do you realize that maybe this wasn’t the right time and space. 

You looked at Changbin that held his hands out, wanting to hug you and make everything feel alright, like it was before and you couldn’t help but to melt at how his eyes rounded, twinkling by the thousands of lights around the room and reflecting in his teary eyes. With the arm of your sleeve you wiped off the tears, makeup rubbing off on the fabric but you couldn’t give less of a thought before Changbin wrapped his hands around you, tears falling at a rapid pace as you sobbed into the neck of your boyfriend, breathing in his musky scent that infiltrated your bloodstream and made your heart stop for just a brief moment before pounding harder than before, powered by longing. 

“I’m s-sorry Changbin” you said in between sobs, words coming out in broken syllables, it was difficult forming a sentence let alone an apology. Changbin shook his head as he put his hand on the back of your neck, descending down and rubbing your back soothingly.

“Don’t apologize y/n, you didn’t do anything wrong” His voice ran down your spine, the boy pulling away from the hug and holding you by the shoulders, looking deeply into your eyes as he spoke. 

“I love you and I will never forget you”

You nodded, your face in distress with tears and snot, puffy eyes looking back at him. 

“W-when are you leaving t-then?” you asked timidly to which Changbin responded by breaking eye contact.

“In two days.” You sighed, not sure if you should be sad. What kind of partner tells you that important of an announcement just two days prior? But you understood, he was just as scared as you. 

Scared of the unknown. Alcohol had been a part of his life for a long time, it was his comfort and now suddenly he needed to adapt to a life without it, a life in sobriety. You weren’t the only scared one. The both of you heard Minho picking up the shards of glass with his bare hands, throwing it in the trash as he smoked, not even needing to remove the cigarette from between his lips in order to exhale the smoke, grey clouds billowing out of the corner of his mouth and filling the area with the scent of over 70 harmful substances. 

In the distance you heard footsteps coming from the dark room that was pretty much the only private space in the building, Felix and Jisung walking out, their expressions changing from happy to confused upon seeing your face and Minho cleaning up. 

“W-what,,,” Jisung started but Minho put his pointer finger to his lips before removing the cigarette from his lips and mouthing to the younger boys.

“He told her”

Both Jisung and Felix nodded slowly, their eyes big as saucers as they mouthed a small “oh” back before casting a glance at the two of you, two bodies melting in a touch that could be the last one.

“What will I do without you Changbin?” you said, looking down at the ground. He sighed before smiling at you. 

“What you’ve always done y/n,,, fight for yourself because one day you will make it” he said, cupping your cheek in his hand and swiping his thumb across the tears on your cheek, the dampness remaining on the rough pads of his thumb. 

“B-but don’t worry y/n! It’s in two days,,, maybe I’ll be back tomorrow” he said, you seeing that the boys nodded their heads in the corners of your eyes. 

“Alright,,, I’ll trust you,,, I always do”

“You guys can go and I don’t know,,, talk in that other room,,, we’ll take care of stuff out here” Minho said, flicking the ashes off the end of the cigarette one last time before throwing it in the sink, the boy standing in the bar together with the the other two boys. You and Changbin nodded, making your way past them and entering the dark room that had now become a place where only memories live. With hesitance you sat down on the couch, Changbin doing the same. You glanced over at him, slowly tilting your head against his shoulder and exhaling loudly through your nose. 

The momentary silence wasn’t awkward. It was comforting. 

Silence was what this place needed, moments away from everything related to partying and drinking until your liver failed. 

“Do you remember the first time we met?” he said with a laugh, you giggling with him.

“Of course I do, it wasn’t even that long ago but,,, it feels like forever.” 

He nodded, glancing at your hand for a moment before grabbing it, his warm hand wrapping around your cold one, lacing his fingers with yours. 

“I don’t want you to leave binnie,,, t-this is unfair.” Tears started bubbling up in your throat again, your breathing getting unstable as your gaze was fixed on the ground. 

“I don’t want to leave either y/n but,,, what if we meet in the right dimension? What if that’s what happens? That when you,,, start loving yourself for who you are,,, maybe that’s when you meet the one that will continue to heal you?”

Changbin’s words made a lot of sense. Nobody knew what happened to the people that descended to the real world again. What adventures they were on or who they were loving at this point in time so maybe that did happen. It made you smile, your heart filled with hope, something you hadn’t felt since he said those doomed words earlier. You turned to him, his lips lingering dangerously close to yours to the point where you could feel his hot breath brushing up against the apples of your cheeks. He leaned in, attaching his lips on yours one last time, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear and holding you by the back of your neck, his thumb caressing the knuckles of your hand. You kissed him back, slipping your tongue into his mouth in a deep exchange of saliva intertwined with yearning. The kiss formed an even pace, you tilted your head to the side causing the kiss to get intense, his wet tongue gliding against yours, your pout swelling as he bit your bottom lip, blood rushing into it. He could almost feel yours eyelashes fluttering against the bridge of his nose. He pulled away, landing a final peck on your soft lips before nibbling the inside of his cheek in nervosity, unsure as to why he was nervous in the first place. Maybe the thought that he would never kiss you again. You put your hands around him, rubbing your dark tinted cheeks against his shirt that was luckily in a darker color as well. He smelled like home, like comfort.

A murky scent mixed with tobacco and ephemerality.

 You haven't seen Changbin since that day. 

“How have you been y/n?” said the woman sitting opposite you, tapping her pen against the A5 block of secrets that rested against a folder that has your name on the side, filled with results of various psychological tests. You shrugged your shoulders, looking out the window where the ivys growed over the glass.

“I’ve been alright,,, although I miss someone” you answered, your eyes meeting the curious ones of your psychologist that observed your body language, your foot shaking in the air as your legs were folded on top of each other. 

“Who do you miss y/n?” she asked. You thought about telling her the truth but then had you ever done that in this office?

“Doesn’t matter,,, Just someone” you answered shortly to which the lady nodded. 

“Longing is a very difficult feeling, sometimes there’s nothing you can do about it since the only thing that will cure it is seeing that person again but of course, that’s not always possible” she said, you observing the marbled pattern on the vinyl floor. You agreed, not knowing what else to do before she started talking about something else that was connected to your well-being, wondering how you are coping with still being on the hunt for a job and having your mental health to care about in the meanwhile. 

The session ended as it always does. By you walking out of the office with an orange post-it note where the next appointment was scheduled in messy writing and with a warm goodbye to your psychologist that was a nice person. It was just that you didn’t really care for her advice and you yet again felt horrible for not taking the help you got when other people in the world couldn’t afford the same experience. The wind hit you in the face as you exited out to reality, out from the solace of the office and the building that held countless of skin-crawling memories. You pulled your jacket closer to your body, walking with quick strides towards the convenience store in order to buy gum and something sweet that could stop the world from leaving a bitter taste in your mouth at all times. A bell above the door tinkled as you stepped into the store, the grey welcome mat being a soft surface to step on with your sneakers. You casted a glance at the staff, seeing the gum you always bought by the cash register and the back of a young man in a black jacket with a baseball cap, looking upwards at the cigarettes and talking to the cashier in a husky voice. You walked past aisles of various snacks and other necessities, hearing the man talking in a voice that made your head spin, sending you into a deja vu feeling.This voice, this very voice was familiar. 

“That one,, yeah,,, thanks! Oh,, just gonna grab something real quick” he said, his footsteps getting closer to you that were hunched over, looking for the banana milk on the lower shelves and squinting your eyes as tried to look further back to see if you missed a bottle by mistake. Your eyes lit up as you saw it, stretching out your hand but in that moment you didn’t feel the cool plastic layer of the yellow manufactured drink but instead a slightly warm hand that was bigger than yours, clad in a couple of silver rings. You quickly apologized and peered upwards, your eyes landing on a couple of dark hooded eyes that made your heart start to race. The lips were plump, a bit dusky in color from the cold weather. A sharp jaw that led to a prominent chin. A triangular nose that connected to a pair of strong bushy eyebrows. A face you had so longed to see. A hand you hadn’t held in what felt like an eternity. There the two of you were, holding the same bottle of banana milk in the flickering light of the store, the coldness emitting from the refrigerated shelves.

It was him.

It was Changbin. 

He was right. 

Only when one decided to heal was it destined for you to meet in a dimensions that was real. A dimension that didn’t consist of an odd phone number and a crimson telephone booth. A world away from the loud music and booze and instead entering a world that had earlier been dark but now got lighter, your tunnelvision ending and objects getting their color back. The world seemed real again. Alive like the way scent of a rose made its way down your lungs and into your blood, feeding the feeling of love from within.

You met him. 

In a different place, in a different time. But you met the same person.

The person you were destined to meet. 

Taglist ; @minholuvs @liz820​ @skztrashbag @lix-freckle3​ 

[joonspecs]

the princess, the guard & the voyeur

a ksj and jjk fic.

summary: You are a Princess. He is the nations’ Head of Guard. Both hold very highly estimable positions until they’re abandoned for the sake of love; but mostly for the sake of chasing a high, falsely revered to be the downfall of many – lust.

rating: m (smut)...

length: 2.8k

characters: Reader; Jungkook; Jin

warnings: pw/op... except there’s kind of a plot but not really lol; penetrative sex; unprotected sex (wrap your Willys before you do the sillys friends); cunnilingus; slight voyeurism; slight infidelity; slight possessiveness; JK is kind of dom-ish; dirty talk; both of them are Dom’s; degradation; slight humiliation; and others (I might have missed something’s)

a/n: it takes me a long ass time to muster enough courage to post my works; let alone RP fics... so please bear with me. i was gonna keep this in my word doc for further editing but i was just enabling my anxiety, so here’s hopefully the first of many fics ill be posting. comments make my day, feedback makes me improve but they’re equally appreciated. anyways, hope you enjoy. and stay safe friends x

a/n #2: There was an art/edit a fan made of JK with a metal hand inspired by the Winter Soldier, but I couldn’t find it anymore as it was a direct inspiration for this and I should’ve saved it! But alas! Yep just I guess try to imagine that lmao~

enjoy this very mild sin...

...

Nobody knows.

Nobody knows and you’d be consistently frugal to keep it that way.  It also didn’t help that you were Royalty- a princess, and he is, well, ultimately, he’s supposed to be in his own quarters. But that doesn’t stop you from finding any chance to see nor touch each other.

Round the corridors, in the hallways, on the stairs, in whatever vacant rooms, a simple scan around the premises proving bare of any other participants or onlookers and you’re locking lips and abandoning both your posts of being royalty and him, not.

Though you would both pull away achingly from each other despising the small moment interrupted at the merest indication of a sound or a murmur and discreetly, as if nothing had just happened before, continue their walk. Though there was nothing discreet about the smirks and knowing grins you both held without having to look at each other. Though the thrill of it would eventually catch up to you. This, you were sure, but nonetheless, you still chose to share his bed and he, well, yours. Always and undeniably.

On a cold, frolicsome morning, whilst laying on your side with your back facing him and Jungkook, with the back of his metal hand, tracing down your spine, sending currents of shivers through every follicle and cranny of your soul. You release a long sigh into the dawn, the latter part of your morning routine from your maids dismissed the night before. You wouldn’t be disturbed.

“Kook, you need to get to your chambers,” you mutter, while grinding your round bottom onto his hips and feel a streak of precum lather the crevice of your backside it makes you wonder how long he’d been awake to work himself up to such a charge that you were sure he was already red and leaking. The sensation alone unbridles your distaste for him leaving.

“One more doll,” he says as he wraps his metal hand around your middle and fits his warm, handsome face in between your neck and shoulder, “just in case I don’t see you at all today.”

You hum at the motion and scrunch your nose at the albeit delighting touch of his growing hair tickling your neck. They were always the grandest, softest thing, more than rubies or sheepskin that you’ve ever laid nor your eyes or your hands upon. You succeed in taking note of his grinding motions behind you, his growing hardness yoked between your cheeks while his hot breath at your ear takes hold of every string of your undoing.

“Jungkook,” you moan, the vapor of your sex from your previous coupling still heavy in the room and pressing heavy at your eyelids as your eyes roll in sinister need.

He moves from behind you, pulling your form at your hips to the end of the platformed, king bed, his palms anchored surely till your feet touch the fuzzy feel of the carpets tickling your toes. You feel his warm hands trace the length from your shoulder blades, down the curve of your arched back, over your upturned buttocks before grabbing a fistful of your ass, groaning at the lavish skin that pushed through the spaces between his fingers as he pulls your cheeks apart and an onset of cold air barely touches your dripping cavern, leaving you in shivers of anticipated pleasure, already brewing dangerously close to releasing.

“Let’s mess around just one more time sweetheart,” he whispers, pushing his girth in-between your butt cheeks and he moans at the touch of your softness surrounding his member. You whine as you feel a finger scoop at the pool of wetness from your dripping cunt and hearing a pop behind you. You take that moment to turn your head and find him sucking his forefinger, the other hand rubbing both your sopping slick all over his dick, the motion adding moisture as he continues to press his erect cock between your soft globes, the sight of it alone causing you to moan and drop your head to the mattress.

“Kookie please,” you whine, impatiently prying at loose ends of his teasing and hoping to every deity above he can cease his teasing for just a moment if only to impale your waiting cavern with his well-endowed length.

“Patience bunny,” he teases, this time grabbing a hold of your waist and hoisting you up onto your knees, parting your bent legs.

“You don’t have much time baby,” you plead, taking note of the time on the clock on the far side of your bedroom walls, as impatiently, you wiggle your bottom in the air, trying to stifle a giggle in hopes to tempt him.

“Trust me, sweetheart,” he growls, placing both fists on the bed beside your bent legs and licks a stripe of your wetness from your swollen clit to your puckered ring. The mere slide of his tongue on your clit causing you to roll your eyes into your lids as you whine and eagerly swivel your lower back in desperate need of his fucking.

“Kook- “ you groan as he delivers a hard enough smack to your bottom it stops his full nickname being uttered.

“What did I say?” he asks as he tongues at your clenching asshole as his metal hand reaches forward to flick your clit. You fail to give him a reply and only opt to moan into the mattress before he reaches back and spanks your reddening ass again. Turning to look behind you and catching his devilish grin as you whine.

“To trust you.”

He pulls back and sinks a metal finger slowly into your dripping cunt; the coolness a stifling contrast to the heat you feel steeping to drop from the high of feeling your pussy being filled by his finger alone, and this time, he chooses to pop another smack to your other cheek, your noises of pleasure, mumbling the feeling, barely articulate and wholly incoherent as his lone metal finger began stroke within your walls and your moans double in volume before he growls. Something deep and guttural from hearing your cries at the mercy of his finger alone before gritting through his teeth, “Trust me what?”

“To trust you sir!”

“That’s what I wanna hear dollface,” he moans, withdrawing his soaked finger you’re your tightness and moaning at the dropping line of your slick onto the bed.

“Wish you could see how fucking gorgeous you look right now babydoll, here- turn to me and see how hard you’ve made me,” he says as he grips his cock in his metal hand, the coldness making him twitch. You quickly turn to see him stroking his dick, covered in black and gold metal and the sight alone makes your mouth water much more similar to how your dripping wetness as your lips open in abandon, your desire tangible when you bite your lip and peering up to meet his lust-heavy gaze.

You stalk toward him on hands and knees and lean forward to suck at his hanging balls as you hear him release a pleasure-filled grunt. You release and pull back to look up to see his head bent back with sinful moans releasing at his neck as he continues to jerk his dick. You place your mouth lavishly bound to the head of his cock, sucking at the velvety, slick skin there and before you lose any other part of your sanity, the one part of your brain that still soldiers to function tells you that you are running out of time. He has to get to his chambers really soon, but God no, not before he makes you cum one last time. So you release him with a loud ‘pop’ and he follows the sound as he reaches forward with his other hand to caress the sides of your face.

“My love, please hurry,” you plead, turning back around to present your waiting, ever dripping snatch. You feel his metal hand push at the tops of your shoulders, gesturing for you to lay your head down, the sheets, a feathers touch from your tight-budded breasts sending flocks of eye-rolling pleasure as you press flat on the bed. He grabs a handful of your locs, pulling hard enough the gasp that escapes your mouth catches tight at the bottom of your stretched throat. You moan and dare to arch your back any further, you might just break from the lingering release that lurks inches from when he would finally take you.

“You don’t tell me what to do,” he growls by your ear, the warmth of his breath a stark contrast to his speech, and your body shivers with anticipation before he lowly chuckles and says, “I will do with you as I see fit, whore.”

There it is.

The very thing you search for in your suitors and discovering their shortcomings in the one thing you needed most. You crave to be put in your place. You yearn to be manhandled like a needy vixen, like a pathetic slut that if you had it your way, you’d wait hand and foot to be used like the damningly sex deprived whore that you fantastically implore of being.

And he gives you exactly that. Exactly what you need. The very thing that puts you so far from the spectrum of the elegant princess you poise deceivingly to be. No, you were far from that, and he had been the only one to notice it.

You moan strings of ‘yes’s as he fixes the head of his member at your opening and without mercy pummels his hardness into you with a stuttered grunt and begins to slam your buttocks to his middle with a loud smack, roughly pulling your wet cunt over and over and over and over and over and over his girth. Your assassin turned royal guard ever gloriously dominating in his pursuit to find both your release as every stroke of his impressive cock slides past your vagina walls and like a buzz in the pit of your stomach, one sheer thrust touches your sweet spot and oh do you truly scream.

“There! Oh, fuck! Right there please- oh God! Right there,” you groan and growl and grunt and moan and whine and every little sound you make in hopes to urge him further, as you suppress to coax more of him into your pussy with every push of your hips back onto his cock, your orgasm just merely dancing in circles above you.

“Right here baby?” he teases with a grunt, hearing your sweet, wicked noises knowing full well in all his cockiness the sins he can rupture within you. Biting and growling at your neck he whispers, “Right here doll? Look at you, so fucking primal, can’t get enough of this dick can’t you? Pushing back on my cock like the needy whore you are – hnnggh.”

“Mine,” you whine, his sweet, filthy nothings behind you making you roll your eyes as he reaches a hand back and delivers a slap to your ass. Waves of nirvana pour over you at the onslaught of pain-filled pleasure from the reddening touch and every tug at your hair as he pulls and pushes into you, every breath stolen from your lungs, every bruising stroke inside of you, every stinging pleasure brought upon your supple ass, has you reaching heights till you’re sure they’re reaching the very tips of your fingers and your toes.

“My doll, taking me so damn well in that tight pussy-Fuck!” he grunts, his breath racing over the shell of your ear as he slows his pace.

“Yes,” you whimper, every stroke against your greedy walls lewdly singing in sloppy, wet sounds as you bunch up the bed sheets in your hands, a tight coil starting to brew at the bottom of your spine.

“You love sneaking around when nobody knows what we’re really doing, and it excites you doesn’t it?” he whispers, all broken and raspy as he laughs darkly in your ear while pulling out to the head of his cock before slowly delving deep into you till he bottoms out, his heavy balls a breath’s touch from your clit.

You cry out and slam a hand onto the bed, your body quivering with tremor, the bare weight of his shaft fleetingly tangling you into a crashing high as he starts to pump faster but more shallow inside of you, pummelling deep until it ghostly reaches your throat. The sounds of your sex swishing and licking at each other’s skin.

“Jungkook! Please-“

“Yes, my love!”

“Please!” you groan, his thrust begins to dig deeper into your cervix you were sure he was bulging out at your stomach.

His hands are everywhere. Pulling at your hips, your hair, your ass, your thighs, your swaying breasts; tracing every inch of you in compensation for the length of time he has to wait to touch you again. And you always dreaded that part. Above most things, you dreaded that you couldn’t freely walk around with whom you were sure is the love of your life. But for now, you’d settle for stolen moments and hurried kisses if it means you can keep both your dignities. However, at this moment alone, the lewd sounds of your tryst echoing off the walls with your needy pleas and his shallow grunts for release and his grunts for very much the same thing, sneaking around had its utmost peaks; and you were savoring this exact one.

“Jungkook! Fuck! Baby!”

“Cum,” he growls, every vibration against your neck pulsating down your body to your weeping cunt. Release just frighteningly close that you send a small prayer for your lover to finish you right then and right there and God does he know all the right spots.

“Take. Every. Last. Drop!”

You moan abidingly, as your thighs begin to tremble, shaking as spurts of cum fill you slowly yet surely, your own release cathartically reducing you to tears as you clench tighter around his cock, making sure to take his souvenir for keepsakes, keeping your pussy drenched for days. You like to revisit your trysts later when you’re alone in your bed, dipping your fingers into your hole and feeling his load still warm and moist inside you.

~

Jin thought it strange that his wife-to-be wasn’t in her usual recreation chambers as early as she usually liked to be. So initially he thought that maybe she wasn’t feeling well. But then he thought that surely, she would’ve said something. But then again, he wondered if it was more than that, especially since after asking her maids whether this was some new routine she had taken to. They merely shrugged and mentioned her often late arrivals in the past few weeks, and it wasn’t something they usually bothered to think about. But then again there was that sordid idea his betrothed had conjured up, dismissing her guard’s when it was not ideal, especially for the protection of the Princess; and he was itching for a rather scalding conversation with the youngster’s brother very, very soon.

Anyhow, he’d visit his betrothed this morning, only to find that not one of her assigned guards were stationed at the entrance to her chambers. Suspiciously he narrowed his eyes and pushed through the thick doors and to his chief shock and surprise, finds the nation’s only worthy head of guards in her living room, shirtless and albeit, locking lips with the princess’ cunt as he strokes his own shaft.

A sight for sore eyes they were; he only wished they had retrieved him sooner. He has always loved sharing his things.

“Jin!” you squeal, noticing his wide shoulders push through the doors and stood stoic against the gold crested doors.

“Oh don’t mind me darling, the little brother and I like to share.”

He especially loves the look of pure shock on your face, as Jungkook releases your swollen pussy lips with a smack, rising from his bent position. The action blocks your sight of the handsome prince at the door, and with a grin on the guards’ own lips you feel another pair of hands caress the bottom of your feet.

~

fin.

[connieswriting]

Drunk words are sober thoughts// Fred Weasley

Paring: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: @yeethoess: “hello, could you do prompts 15 and 36 with fred weasley please”

@chocok22: “Can I please get number 34 with Fred Weasley?”

@rommylove: “Hey could I request 7, 10 and, 20 with Fred Weasley.”

A/N: I am very aware I’ve been lacking, but I haven’t been very inspired lately. However I made myself write this one cus ya know, today is Fred’s birthday :). If you want to request you can, and please do, I write for more characters except Fred lmao, just go ahead and request it! Or message me for anything idc I’ve been very bored lately :) please enjoy this crap I produced in a few hours.

“We won!” Fred screamed, hosting you up in his arms. “I can’t believe we actually won!” He continued, blissfully laughing before putting you down and pulling you into a tight hug.

“Woah there, big guy. I know you’re excited but you’re suffocating me.” You laughed, playfully punching him in his back.

“I’m sorry, love. I just cannot believe we actually won the Quidditch Cup. Charlie is going to be so delighted.” He continued pulling back, his hands resting on your face.

It had been the last match, Gryffindor against Slytherin, and after an intense couple of hours, Harry had managed to catch the Golden Snitch, resulting in his team winning the Quidditch Cup for the first time since Charlie Weasley had attended the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

“Oi, you two, stop flirting over there, we have a party to attend to.” You heard from your left turning to face a smiling George who had just finished ruffling Harry’s hair.

You felt a pair of arms rest around both yours and Fred’s shoulders, pushing you forwards and off the station. “He’s right. We ought to celebrate finally winning the Cup. This feels like a dream; on my final year too! And McGonagall thought my training schedule was horrendous.” Oliver Wood’s voice rang in your ears as he pushed himself forward to congratulate the rest of the team.

“Your training schedule was horrendous; we were training more than all of the other teams combined!” Fred shouted after his team’s captain who was already too deep im embraces from his house’s members to hear the twin’s protests. “I barely had time to study this year and this is his reaction?” Fred sighed as you both continued walking towards the Gryffindor common room.

“As if you would study even if you had had the time.” You laughed just as you entered the castle, following the many Gryffindor students who kept joyfully chanting their way to the party.

“Oh, so you’re just so keen on personally attacking me now?” He chimes, bumping his shoulder into yours. “You aren’t exactly wrong, but those training schedules meant I couldn’t spend as much time as I wanted to with you, this year, and we both know just how heartbroken you were when you found out you weren’t able to spend all those wonderful afternoons, cuddling up with me.” He smirked at you, earning a smack on his head.

“Sometimes I wonder why I decided to be friends with such a pretentious idiot in the first place.” You smiled as you finally reached the Fat Lady portrait that secured the entrance to the common room. From behind it, you could already hear the celebrations that were occurring, imagining all the food, the drinks and the decorations that had been put up for this wonderful occasion.

“That’s no way to talk about Georgie. I know his intelligence isn’t his forte, but he’s not that pretentious, you know? Scurvy Cup.” Fred stated as the painting moved forward and the Fat Lady disappeared behind it with a heartfelt ‘Don’t have too much fun’.

Before you could respond to the redhead’s comment, Fred had already been shoved away from you and into a group of giggling girls, all of them intrigued on how he had such strength to make the Bulger hit the Slytherins’ brooms with such intensity. You were used to this by now, although there were many perks of befriending the Weasley twins, there was also the slight disadvantage of how social and outgoing they were which meant you were more often than not pushed away from them, since so many people, specially girls, wanted to be with them as well. You couldn’t blame them, there was something so alluring about Fred and George’s personality that sometimes you were shocked how the whole school wasn’t in love with them both.

“Don’t look so gloomy, (Y/N). Our house just won the Quidditch Cup for the first time in several years.” Lavender Brown giggled, shoving a cup in your hands. “Have a drink. You look so off-putting just standing there, doing nothing at all.”

“Don’t you have something a bit... stronger?” you questioned, eyeing the pumpkin juice in the cup you were holding.

“I might just have a few shots. Someone from seventh year was able to get a few bottles of Firewhiskey, if you’re interested.” The girl explained as you both made your way to the drink’s table. “I don’t know if they hid it better so the younger ones don’t get drunk on it, but Dean said it was under the... Aha!” Lavender exclaimed producing a single bottle of the so desired alcohol. “I’ll pour it for you since I know how you can get when there’s Firewhiskey and Fred Weasley off with some girls involved.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Besides I won’t get drunk, don’t worry; we still have a ton of homework and I’m sure McGonagall is going to make us a ‘surprise visit’ tomorrow to see just how much we have destroyed the common room.” You stated just as your friend finished filling up the bottom of a cup, offering it to you. “Thank you.” You smiled, bringing the cup to your lips, the fiery taste immediately warming up your mouth. “It has been a long day, I needed this.”

Lavender rolled her eyes, safely hiding the bottle again, making sure none of the younger students were looking. “You are so dramatic. The game wasn’t even that long. Now come on, you can’t enjoy a party if you aren’t even dancing.”

It wasn’t long before the both of you joined the rest of your friends, dancing actively just as the alcohol seemed to be starting to kick in. Lavender was partially right- you did drink an awful lot every time there was a party such as this one, but you were always able to hold yourself back from getting actually drunk. You drank enough to feel slightly buzzed, but never enough so you couldn’t remember anything the morning after.

However, today was different. The overly-touchy couple dancing next to you seemed to push you to keep drinking. You knew you shouldn’t feel this way, he was just your friend and he was more than welcome to be with other girls, after all you didn’t own him, nobody did. Yet, every time it look like you weren’t bothered by their proximity anymore, Fred’s loud whisper in the girl’s ear that prompted her obnoxious laugh would make your cup reach your lips almost immediately after. You knew you weren’t just buzzed anymore, your thoughts already becoming more and more incoherent, but you couldn’t stop, you wouldn’t stop. If it meant you wouldn’t be as bothered by his hands slowly sliding down her back as her hands rummaged through his whole body, if it meant those images would be less defined than they were supposed to be, then it was fine by you.

“How about we go for a walk?” Lavender abruptly asked, turning your face towards the door. “I think it’s a bit stuffy in here, we should get some air.” She continued quickly, already pulling your arm.

“Lav, why would we do that when it’s already way past our curfew. That would be absolutely-“ as you turned your head to meet your friend’s eyes, the reason for her unusual request caught yours. Their faces, pressed together, their lips moving rapidly, hungrily, his hand on her hips, pushing her towards him, her hand in his hair, pulling it savagely.

You didn’t even have time to process how Lavender knew you were so infatuated by Fred to the point that this scenery would hurt you deeply. Sure she had made jokes about how you two should be dating but you never actually took any of those seriously. You didn’t even think about the possibility that others might know as well, something you so deeply wished to keep as a secret, in fear it would ruin your friendship with the boy. You felt tears starting to prick in your eyes, pushing through the crowd and out of the common room. Why were you even so upset? Fred didn’t owe you anything, he was you friend and nothing more, that had been made very clear, specially tonight. You made your way to the Astronomy Tower, carefully passing by a lecturing Bloody Baron and a remorseful looking Peeves, so as not to bring yourself any unwanted attention.

When you reached the top, you sat down, looking up at the stars. Ever since you were little, looking at the stars would always help you calm down, see the bigger picture, they would always make you feel better.

“You know, these stars are nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in your eyes.” The booming voice startled you, but you didn’t need to turn around to know to whom that voice belonged to. “Why did you run away like that, we were in the middle of a celebrating my big win.” Fred smiled taking a seat besides you.

“Oh, right, what a big win it was.” You spat, scooting away from him. The Firewhiskey you had previously drank seemed to be giving you some unnecessary confidence. “Why don’t you go back to your big win. I’m sure she is missing your lips so much.”

“Love, are you jealous?” Fred laughed, closing the gap between you two once more.

“So now you’re aware of my feelings? All this time I’ve been in love with you but only now are you realising I may have feelings too?” The alcohol was doing quite a number on you as it took you a moment to process your own words. “Did I just say that out loud?” You grimaced, getting up from your spot, and ready to once again run away. Many could argue running away from your problems wasn’t the key to solving them, but you would beg to differ, since in this case it seemed like it was the only solution.

“You did, (Y/N), and honestly can’t say I’m surprised after the way you acted tonight.” Fred grinned, pulling himself up and in between your body and the door, far too quickly for your own liking, preventing you from escaping this disastrous conversation. “I guess since we are giving this whole honestly thing a try, I should do it was well: I did kiss that girl back there but I couldn’t stop picturing you in my arms your hands on my hair, your lips on mine. I was doing it so much that I even ended up moaning your name. I guess you can assume she wasn’t too happy about it, but who would be, imagine getting the chance to kiss me, the most gorgeous specimen there is, just to realise I’m not thinking about you at all.

You stared at him, disbelief prominent in your features. “Right sorry, point is, that is when I saw you running away to this place, and obviously I had to follow you to make sure you weren’t getting into to trouble... At least not without me. Nice spot by the way. Gorgeous view, calm and quite, it’s honestly splendid.”

“I’m sorry, you did what?!” Had he actually called out your name in the middle of making out with another girl? Had he actually pictured you, in her place, with him? You felt your legs give under your weight, as you slid back onto the floor. “You like me as well?” You questioned, hopefully.

“I never said that...” he started, but you quickly interrupted.

“Just admit that I’m right.” You breathed, forcing him to sit down in front of you. “Please?”

“(Y/N), I don’t like you...” He explained, kneeling next to you. “I love you, have loved you since our first year actually. The moment you got really angry at me and Georgie for pulling a prank on you so you pulled one back, I just knew you were the one for me.” He continued, resting his hands on your face. “I’m just admired someone as smart as you took so long to figure that out.”

“You were the one loudly making out with someone else at the party, not me.” You argumentes, leaning towards him.

“Fair enough, but in my defense, I was so strongly convinced someone like you couldn’t possibly like me back that I was trying my best to get you out of my head, thus my many, unfortunate, shared kisses with that girl. Wait, was it really that loud?” He asked making you smile. “Why I ever made such an idiotic decision, I will never know.” His features mimicked yours, as he sat next to you resting his arm on your shoulders. “You know you’ve made me very self conscious of my own kissing abilities, right?”

You jolted yourself up, capturing his lips in yours as the both of you moved in sync, his hands resting on your hips, yours on his neck. “Loud but magnificent.” You laughed, sitting back in your original position, your head resting in his shoulder.

“Mm, if I knew you kissed like that, I wouldn’t have even let you out of my side for a second, tonight.” Fred hummed appreciatively.

It had been fairly quick until you felt your body become progressively more tired to the point you could barely hold in your yawning.

“It’s okay to sleep, love.” You heard Fred’s voice besides you. “You did drink quite a lot tonight, don’t think I didn’t notice. I’ll just carry you back to the dorm, don’t worry.”

“But you can’t get inside my room, remember?” You lazily stated, feeling your eyes close once more.

“I guess you’ll be lucky enough to sleep with me tonight.” He lightly laughed at his own comment, taking your hand in his, admiring how well the both of them fit together. “(Y/N)?” He questioned once he noticed the lack of response from your side. “Are you still awake?”

Yet, once again, you didn’t respond, the alcohol completely taking control over your body, making you fall asleep almost instantly after reminding Fred of the difficulty in entering your dorm room. The boy just shook his head, a smile playing in his lips, trying to picture back the moment you had first confessed your feelings to him. Winning the Quidditch Cup and getting the girl he had longed for so long, in the same day? This was surely a day he would remember very fondly for years to come, and he could hardly wait to share the news with his twin brother.

[roseskiesandbutterflies]

Le Démon Déchu - Chapter 2: Réponses Et Plus De Questions

Summary: The summary is kind of long so please check a previous part or my masterlist if you want to read it.

Warning(s): threat, swearing

Word Count: 6.8k+

Inspiration: Do You Know What Eternity Is? by Elderly_Worm on AO3, Great Omens (The Big One) by falsepremise on AO3, Pray For Us, Icarus series by Atalan on AO3, Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm on AO3, wasteland, baby by john1513 on AO3, Not of Us by ShesAKillerQueen98 on AO3, How to Win a Lifetime Achievement Award for Services to Television (and how not to) by GaryOldman on AO3, Doctor Who (don’t ask) and, of course, Good Omens itself

A/N: Okay I took a bit of a hiatus from writing literally anything for about five months so sorry about that but I’m back now!! That’s the main thing. Also, I’ve left high school now which is very exciting! That does mean I’ll have so much more time to write and I’m definitely going to try and use this summer to establish some kind of routine for writing so that when I start college, I won’t get too overwhelmed with both my studies and with updating my fics. That’s the plan anyway so don’t hold me to that lmao. With any luck, now I’ve actually said that it’ll have to happen. (I wrote that part of this note back in May when it was the start of the summer. It is currently September and I’m just about to finally publish this chapter and I assure you, I am cringing at my own optimism.) Sorry this took so long to post. This chapter has been in the works since May (yes, I know I’m terrible) but I actually got a lot more writing done in that time that what you just see in this chapter. All will be revealed soon. I just promise that I have been productive. Once you’ve read this chapter, you have my blessing to translate the title of this fic. Hopefully it will make sense.

I just wanted to point out something about the playlist I linked in the previous chapter. I am well aware that there are some rather problematic people in it, namely Sia. I want you all to know that I don’t support her in any way (I don’t like her at all I think she’s a complete ableist twat). Her songs are only on there because of how well they fit with the story (a lot of this will become clearer as the story goes on).

I also wanted to point out that I know that if angels do exist, then their true forms probably wouldn’t look anything like humans. I’m well aware of that, I’m not an idiot, I don’t know if any of you remember when people started googling ‘angel true form’ and some people got scared lmao. The point is, we’ve all seen the pictures. But for the purpose of this story, and honestly just to make it easier for me to describe what the characters are doing, we’re going to have to pretend that they did look like humans. Can I claim creative license with this one? Maybe it got lost in translation because there is probably no way someone could describe how an angel truly looks in any human language? I don’t know, just roll with it.I know that this chapter had so much exposition and explanation in it but I can promise you two things. One, there is still much to be revealed. Two, I promise this isn’t just bad writing on my part. Just trust that I needed to put this all in this early on.

And how is everyone doing after the season 2 announcement? I mean, at the time of writing this specific part of my notes, it only got announced about an hour ago lmao. I’m very fucking excited, oh my god. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I found out I can’t lie. Catch me trying to finish this before it comes out in case things occur which means I have to change things in this story. I can’t be arsed for that. Oh well. Hopefully it’ll read like those Sherlock fics that people wrote in between series 2 and series 3 if that doesn’t happen.

Taglist: @briarrose26​

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Hermit (upright) + Five of Wands (upright)

Conflict. Reflection. Resurfacing memories.

************

Let’s admit, without apology, what we do to each other.

We know who our enemies are. We know.

– Richard Siken (Detail of the Fire)

************

“Fuck.”

The angel and demon exchanged glances of what could only be described as thinly veiled panic, while the woman in front of them just looked annoyed at the most.

“They couldn’t wait five minutes, could they?” she muttered, pinching at the bridge of her nose in frustration before standing up again, “Look, just stay down here, I’m gonna go sort this out. With any luck they won’t have actually realised you’re here too.”

“Wait, how do you know they’re here for you?” Crowley asked, suddenly curious as to what business Eloise might have with Heaven.

“Just a gut feeling,” she said before making her way to the spiral staircase behind them, muttering to herself, “If they were here for you, I feel like they would have at least used the front door.”

The other two waited until she’d run upstairs before exchanging a quick glance, an unspoken word, and following her up.

Meanwhile, Eloise was hovering outside a room at the end of the corridor which she could only assume was the bedroom. She was strangely hesitant, not out of fear of them, simply out of fear of the unknown. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in that room for millennia, and something told her that this wasn’t going to be a friendly chat. She took a deep breath, even though she technically didn’t need it, letting a wave of faux confidence wash over her, and stepped inside. Don’t crumble now. You’ve come too far to crumble now.

“Ah, Mariel, long time no see,” Gabriel smiled coldly, brushing the dust off his white suit. Flanked by two other angels, he stood in the wreckage of the bedroom without even acknowledging the damage they must have caused when they crashed in. Beside him were Beelzebub and Hastur, who both looked as though they had been dragged kicking and screaming to come here. Beelzebub in particular kept shooting metaphorical daggers at Gabriel, who remained perfectly oblivious. The entire ceiling had caved in from the impact of their crash, the setting sun painting the doorway where Eloise stood in a pale gold and casting a dark shadow over the others.

She’d grimaced at the use of her old name; it was too unfamiliar, too ancient. Mariel was the name of a long-dead version of herself. Once upon a time, she’d embraced it, but that was once upon a time. Once upon a time long gone.

“Almost like I’ve been avoiding you on purpose,” she muttered, leaning against the doorway as she stared intrusively at each person in the room, observing, assessing. She silently revelled in the blatant discomfort in each of their faces.

“No need to be so rude,” Gabriel said, doing anything to avoid her eyes, his previous confident façade now shattered.

Eloise stared at him in disbelief, “What exactly were you expecting? A fucking welcome party? I haven’t seen any of you in over six thousand years and you just crash through the roof of my house, unannounced and uninvited, so yeah, forgive me for being a little irritated.” She couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. She’d barely been in Aziraphale’s bookshop for fifteen minutes and she was already pretending she owned it.

She watched smugly as he squirmed under her gaze, desperately looking to the others to say something in response. A moment or two passed before Beelzebub’s head suddenly snapped up in confusion, “Are you alone?”

Shit. She’d hoped that they wouldn’t have noticed the presence of the two who were definitely not downstairs like she’d asked. She swallowed, trying not to let any kind of emotion show on her face, trying not to give the game up that quickly, “Yeah, I live on my own.” She watched the whole group of them squint in concentration, trying to sense any other beings in the house. She sighed, changing the subject before they could comment on it any further, “Look, what do you want? I don’t have all day so if you could make it quick then that would be much appreciated.”

Gabriel looked back at her, his suave exterior unfortunately making a return, “Hey, we just wanted to check up on you, see how you’re doing-”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” she snapped. She pushed herself off from the doorway, stalking towards the others, “You have had six thousand years to ‘check up on me’, don’t pretend you’ve only started to care now.”

She was met with only silence as Gabriel and Beelzebub glanced at each other awkwardly, looking very much like chastised children. Suddenly the latter groaned and cried, “You can’t just leave Hell!”

“Oh, here we go,” Eloise muttered, rolling her eyes, bored already.

“You can’t! You Fell from Heaven, so you go to Hell, there isn’t a third option!”

“Well, apparently there is,” she shrugged.

“No there isn’t!” they argued, face screwed up like a petulant child.

“Then what do you call this then?” she asked, unfolding her wings for the second time that day. She studied their reactions closely, scrutinising coal-black eyes piercing through their very souls. She was searching for any hint of shock, of recognition, of anything that could clue her in as to what was going on in their heads at that moment. All she could find, however, was pure, unadulterated confusion. Which was annoying when her wings were supposed to be an answer to their unasked questions.

Gabriel stumbled over his words, “Good Lord, how did you even-”

Eloise cut him off curtly, no longer having the patience to listen to his incoherent mumbles. She instead turned to Beelzebub who at least had the decency to look a little more composed, “That would be what you could sense then. I’ve got both Heaven and Hell in me, that’s a lot of energy to pick up on.” She stared right through them, daring them to say anything else.

“Must be,” they replied slowly, though they didn’t look at all convinced.

Gabriel held up a hand, his eyes darting about as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing, “No hold on, how did you even manage that?”

“I left Hell,” Eloise said simply, “Why should I have black wings? I’m not some demon who ran away from everything. I left. Permanently. I looked Hell in the eye and walked away. You know what? Fuck it, I looked Satan in the eyes and walked away.”

“You what?” he stuttered.

“Yeah, you heard me. You have a problem with me leaving Hell then go on! Take that up with the bloody devil,” she said, staring them down, daring them to retaliate. She smirked when she was met with pure, uncomfortable silence, “Except you won’t, will you? Because you don’t actually give two fucks about me. Just like I said, if you did then you would have chased me up a long time ago. Quite frankly, I think you must have been glad to have me out of your hair,” she sighed, half sad, half amused when they couldn’t even meet her eye. She paused for a moment, wondering how far she could push this, before asking, “You know what I think is really going on here? I think the pair of you are feeling a bit bruised after the absolute shitshow that was Armageddon last year, which, by the way, fucking hilarious. I think your egos are feeling a little sore after a literal child stopped you from ending the world, so you’re thinking ‘hmm, what would be an easy win so that we don’t feel like total shit? Oh yeah, what about that demon who ran away all that time ago? That should be easy to sort out.’. Well, love to disappoint, but you’re not getting me that easily, especially when not a single one of us actually wants me back, and Sandalphon, take one more step further I swear I will dropkick you back to Heaven,” she snapped, glaring at the angel who had been menacingly inching closer while she had been talking. He reluctantly stepped back alongside Gabriel, looking a little more than miffed that his plan hadn’t worked out. “You really want me back? Get your bosses to talk to me because I don’t actually see why it’s any of your business. No middle men. Just God, Satan and me. I’ll see what they have to say about all this. Questions?” she asked, tone snapping from one extreme to another, almost as if she had just been possessed.

Gabriel stared at her, mouth gaping like a fish, “You can’t just boss us around like that.”

“What? Like how you bossed us around all those years?” she replied without missing a beat, real rage, real danger seeping into her voice now, “I think we’re done here.”

“But-”

“I said, I think we’re done here,” she said, leaving no room for arguments. She gestured to the sorry excuse for a room around them, “Now, if you wouldn’t mind cleaning this up.”

“Why can’t you do it? You can miracle things too,” Gabriel said, desperate for any kind of leverage over Eloise.

“You’re right, I could, but I didn’t make this mess, and I personally believe that you should face the consequences of your actions, Gabriel,” she said pointedly, watching as he visibly gulped. In a matter of seconds, the room was restored to its original state and Eloise was left alone in the room, no indicators that she was ever with any other people remaining.

She sighed and all but collapsed into a chair that may or may not have existed a few moments ago, confident façade shattered completely. She breathed heavily in exhaustion, as if she’d just run a marathon; she supposed she had just run a mental one. Her emotions were bugging her to no end. It was strange. She wasn’t scared, per se. There was very little that Gabriel or Beelzebub could do to her that would frighten her anymore. She tried her best to compose herself, writing off the tsunami inside her mind as just plain old adrenaline, before calling out, “You can come in now. I know you guys are outside, it’s okay, you can come in.”

Crowley and Aziraphale walked into the room, one looking considerably more sheepish than the other. Aziraphale perched awkwardly on the freshly reconstructed bed, “We’re sorry–”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, we’re not.”

Eloise and Crowley exchanged a glance, amused looks on both of their faces while Aziraphale simply looked distressed. Eloise turned back to him and smiled sympathetically, “I told you, it’s fine. I would have done the same,” she admitted, looking away before collecting herself once again, “So, I’m guessing you have a lot of questions–”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Crowley muttered as he took a seat beside Aziraphale, although it was a very loose definition of ‘taking a seat’.

Aziraphale glared at him while Eloise just sighed and reluctantly said, “I think it might be better if I just show you.”

Crowley cocked his head in confusion, “Show us what?”

She brought her chair closer to the edge of the bed and put out her hands, “Take my hands. Brace yourselves.”

Mariel was standing before a crowd of angels, dozens upon dozens of disgusted faces staring right at her. She couldn’t quite remember getting there. She had been in the pitch-dark holding cell and the next thing she knew, she was here. Blinding white light surrounded them, harshly illuminating her vulnerabilities before all of Heaven. She tried her best to keep her chin up even though she absolutely hated the fact that they could see the bruises from when she had been arrested that were now blooming on her face. She frowned as she noticed the lack of measures preventing her from escaping. All that was keeping her there was Gabriel’s presence at her side, cold violet eyes pointedly ignoring her. He really was an arrogant bastard for assuming that she wouldn’t even try to make a run for it. Just because he was right this one time, it didn’t mean that he shouldn’t have come prepared. Mariel sighed and looked up at the angels staring down at her. Michael was sat higher than everyone in the centre of the crowd, face void of all emotion as she said, “The Principality Mariel. You’re on trial today for betraying the will of the Almighty, rebelling against all that is good and light in the universe...”

Mariel blocked the rest of her pretentious speech out as she droned on about all the awful things she’d supposedly done to deserve this. It was all lies anyway. She knew the real reason she was here. There were a few things that stood out to her despite it all, things that nearly made her laugh. She’d known that they’d needed to conjure up some reasons for condemning her, but this was just ridiculous. Gabriel really had gone to extraordinary yet desperate lengths to slander her in her final moments in this Someone-forsaken place. She was surprised that the angels gathered to watch her downfall believed a word of this. She tried her best not to resent them, though. It wasn’t like they had anything better to believe in. Especially considering the amused smirk that had crept its way onto her face.

She returns to reality just in time to hear Michael ask, “What do you have to say to defend yourself?”

“I’ve done nothing I need to defend,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“Don’t make this worse for yourself than it already is,” Gabriel muttered dangerously from where he stood beside her.

Mariel turned to look at him in disbelief. “How the fuck could this get any worse, Gabriel?” she hissed, fury flaring up in her eyes.

He just looked back at her condescendingly, “Do you really need me to answer that?”

She pointedly refused to reply, turning back to face Michael, determined to ignore him.

The next part goes past in a blur for Mariel. Michael speaks again, though she doesn’t listen. Then suddenly there are shouts of anger, screams of rage, coming from the gathered crowd. They spit with venom as they hurl insults at her. She doesn’t hear a word. It’s as though her head is under water, completely submerged in the stone cold anger that seeps through her body, and suddenly Mariel is drowning in the realisation that this is really happening, oh God this is really happening.

Why? Why is this happening to me? You listening, God? Look me in the eye and tell me why this is happening.

She doesn’t get an answer, and though she wasn’t expecting one, it still hurts. Because she knows that she’ll never get an answer from Her again now.

Eventually she feels a tug on her arm from where Gabriel has been standing, dragging her away from the crowd and out her of current state of mind. She could feel her senses coming back to her as she stumbled backwards, but everything was crashing down on her too quickly, too harshly. She did her best to shove the rising panic as deep down insider her as she could. There was no way she would let anyone here see her in that state. She couldn’t let them think they’d won.

She didn’t even realise she had reached the edge of the ground she was standing on, the edge of Heaven itself, Gabriel no longer grabbing her arm. She nearly found herself peering over the edge, but stopped herself before she could lean too far. It may have helped her in the past but now was not the time to give in to her curiosity. And she didn’t trust Gabriel to not push her the moment he had the chance. She turned her head to glare fiercely at him, piercing holes in his very soul. She could slowly feel her anxiety being replaced by cool rage as she found herself saying, “Any institution that tries to silence anyone who opposes them is inherently corrupt.” She stared knowingly at his discomfort as he forced himself to face her. He knew what she meant by that. He knew.

He took a second to compose himself before practically scoffing in her face, “Don’t preach at me.”

Mariel cocked her head as she studied him. She watched as his eyes subconsciously flicked back to the crowd, to the other Archangels. He blatantly wanted nothing more than to re-join his fellow angels, the only beings who understood why he was doing what he was doing, or were at least supposed to understand anyway. Somehow she doubted they were all as cold-hearted and self-absorbed as the angel in front of her. She considered him for a moment before saying simply, “Your quest for power will kill you in the end.”

He furrowed his brows in somewhat amused confusion, “Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s the truth,” she blinked at him before leaning in and murmuring in his ear, “It will be your downfall.”

“The only one who’s going to Fall around here is you,” he said dangerously. Mariel leaned back and watched the lethal glimmer in his eye wither and die under the intensity of her gaze.

She just smiled. “We’ll see.” She let herself look at him for a moment longer before blinking away the tears and cautiously taking a small step backwards. She could feel where the ground ended beneath her feet and was sure not to step any further. She took one last look of the place she once called home, embracing how it felt for the last time though she knew she wouldn’t miss it.

She closed her eyes for a moment and fell back.

Mariel was Falling. That bit she knew, but much more than that? Everything was happening too fast for her to notice. And yet, it was as if she was existing in slow-motion. She worried for a moment that this was, in fact, her fate; doomed to remain in a perpetual state of limbo, of Falling, for all eternity. The only thing telling her otherwise was the view of Heaven above her, which she realised only too late was slowly shrinking into nothing. Mariel found herself reaching her own arms out, grasping for Heaven. They were opposite ends of a magnet being roughly pulled away from each other by an invisible force.

You hear that God? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? And don’t you dare tell me it’s all part of your plan because right now, the only thing I want is to be back where I should be and I can’t even have that.

She pulled herself out of her mind and back into reality; she’d have plenty of time in Hell to yell at a God who’d never listen, let alone answer. She only just started to register her surroundings, the fact that she was actually Falling, who knows how far and for how long, tumbling through the air at an unimaginable speed, plummeting towards a place that could be anything from seconds to hours away. The deafening wind that screamed in her ears, drowning out the screams which may have been coming from her mouth or her mind, who was she to say? Air whipped around her body, icier and more painful than any words that could ever be uttered by the angels above her. It wasn’t until she could no longer see any hint of Heaven on the horizon that she started to feel the tears finally fall, trickling down her face and floating slightly due to the force of the Fall.

Then suddenly it came. She felt it in the very tips of her wings first, a strange tingling sensation, as though hundreds and then thousands of pins were skirting the edges of her corporeal being. It spread over the rest of her wings, and then her body, at a faster pace than she could keep track of until her whole being felt as though it was burning. The pain grew, and it grew, and it grew, and she didn’t think she could physically take any more pain when she looked up in horror at her own freshly blackened wings. Her beautiful, holy wings which had once been the softest, purest white, were now stained with evil and ash. For the first time since she started Falling, however long ago that might have been, she let out a choked sob that racked through her whole body and through the ever-changing air around her. Nobody heard her cries. Nobody heard her screams as the searing pain in her chest grew stronger. She couldn’t even begin to work out whether it was physical or emotional but it was there and it burned a hole, a gaping wound, through her soul, leaving a scar fated to never heal and to forever haunt her-

Eloise was crying. She’d tried so hard to prevent the steady streams that were now running down her cheeks, but that was a memory that she’d never wanted to relive. She looked upwards for a moment, trying to regain control of her emotions and her breathing, before peeling her hands away from the two sat in front of her. She roughly wiped the tears from her face, and suddenly the only thing telling you she had been crying were the bloodshot eyes that Crowley tried to ignore as he said bluntly, “I’m still confused.”

“Crowley, give her a minute,” Aziraphale chastised him, furrowing his brows at the demon before he turned back to Eloise with kind eyes and a kinder heart, “Are you alright, my dear?”

She nodded without much hesitation, “I’m fine, it’s okay.” She certainly wasn’t fine, nor was it okay, but the last thing she wanted was to have to deal with her feelings in front of two people she was trying her best not to scare off. She looked back at Crowley, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

He looked at her in understanding, for if anyone knew her thought process in that moment, it was him. “Right, so you Fell and became a demon. Then what?”

“Well, you know what Hell’s like,” she started, looking pointedly at Crowley. She waited for him to nod before continuing, “Not my scene at all. I just point-blank refused to do anything they asked of me. Naturally they didn’t like that much. Eventually I was called in to see Satan about it. I remember thinking, ‘well, that’s that then. Terrible knowing you all.’, because I didn’t think I was going to survive that. Turns out he was just annoyed that I was being a bloody nuisance to everyone else, but he was too amused to really do anything about it, so he basically just told me to piss off. Leave Hell, don’t come back, and I won’t tell anyone where you’ve gone or that you’re even alive. Not exactly a deal I could refuse, so I left, came to Earth, been here ever since. I think everyone just assumed he’d killed me,” she shrugged as if she hadn’t just destroyed the whole idea of eternal damnation with just a few sentences. She smiled to herself as they gaped at her for a moment, though she doubted they realised they were doing it.

Crowley somehow managed to gather his senses quick enough to hold up a hand and say, “Wait, but when you were talking to Gabriel and Beelzebub and that lot, you said they had six thousand years to check up on you. Why would you say that if they thought you were dead?” He narrowed his eyes at her. He wasn’t altogether quite sure why he seemed to be so keen on finding any gaps in her story, but he needed to be able to trust that she was telling the truth. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Yes, and they didn’t exactly seem surprised to see you alive.”

Eloise grinned. You two are gonna be fun, I can tell. “You’re both very observant, I have to give you credit for that.” She paused in thought for a second before starting carefully, “You see, the trouble with me is that I’m not really one for keeping a low profile. I’m too noisy, so to speak, and I don’t even realise it most of the time. This demon I hadn’t exactly been the nicest to back in Hell saw me in Babylon, gosh, it must have been eighteen thirty something BC? Anyways, he ratted me out to Beelzebub who must have told Gabriel all about it. I had about a decade of this bloody demon trying to discorporate me just to see if it would force me to go back to Hell, then one day he just stopped, and I never saw him again. Beelzebub probably told him to piss off.”

They were both quiet again for a little while. Eloise didn’t even think to say anything. It might be a rare occasion, but she did know when to keep her mouth shut when it mattered. She could see the cogs turning in their heads as if it was projected in the air above them. Eventually Crowley murmured, “I didn’t even know you could do that, you know, leave.”

She shook her head with a strange kind of sympathy that came from recognising an experience you had far too long ago, “Neither did I. It stills shocks me sometimes if I think about it too much.”

A few seconds passed before Crowley cleared his throat abruptly and said, “They called you Mariel. I thought you said your name was Eloise.”

She hesitated before answering. She knew exactly what he was doing, she’d been doing it for the whole of their conversation thus far, but just because she tended to bury her emotions, it didn’t mean that she liked it when others did it. She decided to ignore the hypocrisy of that thought, how ironic, she thought to herself, and instead explained, “It is. Mariel was my angel name. You know how it is,” she looked pointedly at Crowley again, hoping that Aziraphale would be able to put the pieces together. She didn’t actually know how much he knew about what it was like to Fall and become a demon.

“Oh, so is Eloise your demon name?” Aziraphale asked politely.

“No,” she said curtly, instantly feeling guilty when she saw the hurt that flashed over Aziraphale’s face. She grimaced and explained in a gentler tone, “I chose it for myself when I came to Earth. Hell tried to change my name after I Fell but I just refused.” She studied him for a second, watching his eyes dart about, before saying, “You want to ask something, I can tell. What is it?”

He looked a little startled at being caught out, momentarily glancing at Crowley for support, probably subconsciously, Eloise noted with a smile. “I, well, I couldn’t help but notice that you mentioned Armageddon. Back when you were speaking with, um, well, you know. H-how did you know about that?”

“I might have been there.” The words rushed out of her mouth in a much less casual manner than what she’d been aiming for, coming out in a sort of jumbled heap that took Crowley and Aziraphale a moment to decipher.

Crowley, the poor sod, could only think to lean forward and ask a simple, “You what?”

She jumped to defend herself, wanting to avoid the onslaught of questions if she could, “Not actually at the airbase, but I was in the area. I was living in Tadfield at the time.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, although the hint of a smirk on his face told her it was more in amusement than suspicion, “How did you know it was at the airbase?”

Eloise couldn’t help but chuckle to herself because of course, they’d notice her choice of words, “I knew Adam and his mates. I ran an ice cream shop, would you believe it. He came and told me all about it the day after,” she smiled fondly before suddenly coming alive with excitement, “That’s actually how I found out about you two. That’s why I’m here. Because I thought I was the only one trying to stop the world ending, but apparently I wasn’t. I had to see for myself.”

A moment passed before Aziraphale asked quietly, “You were trying to stop it?”

Eloise, not noticing the newly subdued atmosphere, launched herself into a painfully over-enthusiastic explanation, “Yeah, it was quite clever really, if I do say so myself. I made sure Adam was swapped with the American baby in the hopes that he would have a human enough upbringing to perhaps change things. Seems to have worked,” she shrugged, before finally taking in the two shocked faces that were staring back at her. Her brows furrowed and her face fell as she asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You switched the babies?” Crowley asked blankly, although it came out as more of a statement than a question.

Her face screwed up as she tried to work out how best to explain herself. “Well, I say switched, it was more of a ‘made sure the demon dropping the antichrist off went to the wrong delivery room’ kind of thing. Feel sorry for the poor sod who had to deal with that but needs must.”

Crowley blinked at her and said bluntly, “I was the poor sod who had to deal with that.”

Eloise looked at him for a moment as about five different jigsaw pieces finally clicked in her head, before she threw her head back in realisation, “Oh shit, so you were. I knew your name sounded familiar.”

“You bastard, we spent six years raising the wrong child because of you!” he exclaimed, wagging his finger at her and jumping off of the bed at one point before Aziraphale tugged him back down. Eloise didn’t know whether to laugh or run for her life, for the menace in his words was betrayed by the disbelieving laugh in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you did what now?” she asked, only just processing what he’d just said, and she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips at his dramatic antics. She knew not to push it when Aziraphale just lifted a finger and pursed his lips with the look of someone who’d rather never bring up said event again.

“Oh bloody heaven, I can’t believe this,” Crowley shook his head, chuckling to himself. Although part of him resented it, he couldn’t help but look at Eloise differently now as they laughed like little kids together. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed so much more like them now, so much more human. Or maybe it was the fact that she had been trying to stop the apocalypse and all the implications that came with the fact. Suddenly he just wanted to know more about her, but he quickly silenced that thought. One thing at a time.

She raised her shoulders with a confused look on her face, giggling as she said, “Sorry? Well, I didn’t know, did I?”

They locked eyes for a moment before bursting into laughter again at the sheer absurdity of it all, leaving Aziraphale slightly bewildered and more than slightly exasperated at the pair. It took them a few moments to finally calm down but once they did, Crowley sobered his tone of voice as he asked, “Right, back to what happened before we came in. Anything we need to keep an eye out for?”

Though he didn’t say it, Eloise could see the unasked question in his eyes. Are we safe? She smiled softly, “Nah, you two’ll be fine. Basically I told them if they want to talk to me, then they need to get their bosses involved, and somehow I highly doubt God and Satan are gonna pop down for a friendly chat any time soon. Even then, you two should be fine. I don’t think any of that lot clocked on that you were here.”

Crowley nodded in understanding, and it didn’t escape Eloise’s attention how the remaining dregs of tension visibly dissipated from both of their bodies. Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other for a moment, the relief palpable from the pair of them. Eloise averted her eyes, giving them the privacy that they didn’t necessarily need but probably did want. She allowed herself a moment to ponder their relationship. They were very in tune with each other, very in sync, that much was obvious. Are they in love? The question sounded ridiculous the moment she thought it. Of course they are, look at them. She’d seen that look time and time again over the millennia. Although when she thought about the way they looked at each other further, that lead to another question. Do they know? The hint of yearning in their eyes was subtle but it was there. No, absolutely not. They’re too comfortable with each other. They’re a unit, that much she could tell. A unit that might not want to be disturbed.

Oh dear.

She looked back up at them hesitantly, unsure of what to say for the first time that evening. Eventually she said, “I’d better go. I think I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

Crowley frowned. Hadn’t she said she’d been travelling for a while? “You got somewhere to stay?”

Eloise paused. She’d definitely not been expecting that response. “Not yet. There is a flat I was going to rent but the people haven’t moved out yet because of the lockdown and it seems rude to miracle them away. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“Stay here,” Crowley said almost instantly, then pulled a face of confusion at how quickly he replied, “I mean, only if you want to.”

Eloise blinked at that. Surely, they wouldn’t want her there? What reason could they possibly have to want her there? “Wait, are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Crowley just shrugged, “It’s not a problem. What are your options anyway? No hotels are open, and you can’t stay with anyone.”

“Only if you’re sure,” she murmured, still wary for a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She glanced at Aziraphale for confirmation; it was his bookshop after all.

He nodded firmly, “Of course. I’ve been told the sofa is remarkably comfy,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, to which she grinned broadly.

A short while and a few miracles later, the sofa downstairs had become a makeshift bed that was significantly larger and softer than it had remembered it being. Eloise was currently settled on it; all it had taken was ten minutes for her to completely crash out. Aziraphale and Crowley had left her in peace with a chuckle, heading up to the bedroom they shared (that wasn’t out of choice, mind you. Simply because there was only one bedroom in the bookshop. No other reason.) One slightly confused item of furniture aside, all seemed to be well in the bookshop.

Upstairs in the bedroom, an angel and a demon were sitting in the same bed. Neither of them had thought to turn off the lights, so they were sat in thick silence in the bedroom. Aziraphale didn’t usually come up to bed, not as used to sleeping as Crowley was, instead opting to read the night away downstairs. However this seemed impolite considering their new guest, so he’d come up with Crowley. And while Crowley was mulling this over he finally stumbled upon why he felt so uneasy.

Aziraphale hadn’t brought a book up with him.

As bizarre a concern as that may seem, Crowley could always trust Aziraphale to bring a book up to bed with him on the rare occasion he came up at night. That was one of the things he lo- liked about him. Liked. He looked at Aziraphale curiously, noting the slight frown on his face as he stared into space. How deep in his head must he have been to forget a book? “You alright, angel?” he asked as softly as he could so as to not startle him.

He looked at Crowley with wide eyes that darted away almost instantly as he started to play with his hands in his lap, “Yes, my dear, I’m fine. I just realised something, is all.”

Crowley cocked his head in interest, “Oh really? What was it?”

He was silent for a little while before saying in a voice no louder than a whisper, “I think I was there when she Fell.”

Crowley felt his eyebrows raise in shock, looking away for a second to try and compose himself. “Right. Well, that’s a thing.”

“Quite.”

He furrowed his brows as he tried to make sense of what this meant now, “And was she telling the truth? Did all that actually happen?”

“Yes. I remember it perfectly well. Clear as day,” he managed to choke out with a forced smile before going back to his routine fidgeting.

Crowley laid a gentle hand on top of Aziraphale’s, stopping what he was doing and getting him to actually look him in the eye for longer than a second. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am quite well. Don’t fret,” he said, and despite Crowley’s concern, he couldn’t pretend that the smile on Aziraphale’s face wasn’t genuine, however small it may have been.

He reluctantly let it go, changing the subject quickly, “You alright with her staying here? I know it just sort of happened.”

The smile on his face only grew, much to Crowley’s surprise, “It’s alright. After all, wasn’t it you who said we’re on our own side now? I think she’s the first person we’ve met who might understand what that means.”

Crowley tried not to think too much about the fact that Aziraphale had actually listened to him when he’d said that, let alone remembered it, instead opting for a casual, “Yeah, I suppose so. Right, I’m gonna get some sleep. I, um, yeah,” he stammered out awkwardly, cursing his brain for not thinking of literally any other decent response.

Aziraphale simply smiled fondly at him, “Indeed. Goodnight, my dear.”

*************

Hello my love,

At the time of writing this, I do not know what the future holds. For me it’s an uncertain, unstoppable force, and it’s not one I think I can fend off for much longer. I’ve tried, please believe that I’ve tried. I’ve tried for your sake to prevent the inevitable. But it’s coming. I can feel it. It won’t be long now, I don’t think.

If you’re reading this, it means I was right, and I have Fallen. I know you’re probably confused and scared and that there is a biting anger bubbling inside you. I wish I could tell you why this is happening. I wish I could tell you that this is all a huge misunderstanding that will be resolved soon.

I wish I could tell you I love you one more time.

But I can’t. There are many things I can’t do now, and it’ll do me no good to dwell on this any longer than I have to. To survive we must focus on what we can do, and that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.

If I know myself as well as I think I do, there are many things I would have liked to have said to you upon our final farewell, but didn’t because I wanted to make sure you were alright. Don’t feel guilty about this, my love. Think of it as my last debt to you being repaid.

I have a plan. Well, it’s more of an idea, and it might not work. And it’s because of this that I shan’t tell you exactly what it is. It seems cruel to allow you to hope for something that might never come into fruition. But please put your faith in me, and in our love, for we will prevail. One way or another.

I hope that you didn’t wait to read this letter because you were scared of its contents, though I’m sure this isn’t the case. You were always brave. It was always something I loved about you. Your quiet, beautiful, roaring courage in the face of such turmoil and anguish. You always had the courage to be kind and to love with all your being, even when everything was against you. No one would have blamed you if you had turned cold and bitter, and yet you chose not to. I admire you for it every day. My idea, should it work, will require us both to be incredibly brave. But more on that another day. It’s that bravery and that strength that you will need to rely on now. That, and the thought of me. Though I may not physically be with you, but I hope that my love’s own soul is enough.

I won’t sign off this letter, because this is not where our story ends. There is much left to be written. And I need you to remember that each day we are parted. Until the next time, my love.

[kirishwima]

RFA + minor trio (or duo, if you don’t wanna do Vand.) with an foreign MC who always keeps at least 3 knives on them at all times. And knows how to handle guns. And is overall just badass

ooo im just imagining a badass Black Widow-esque MC lol, i love it! I love even more how there's no explanation as to how or why they know how to handle guns and knives, even better 😆

YOOSUNG:

* Baby boy is SPOOKED

* MC is so sweet, gentle and patient with him...he never once thought of them as anything less than an innocent angel

* Yet one night they're lounging around at his apartment, when there's a loud thud from the other room that startles them both

* Yoosung's scared, sure, but he tries to gulp down his fear, ready to protect MC if need be-that's what a good boyfriend should do afterall!

* Well...or not, seeing how MC is already up from the couch with a knfie in each hand-where did those even come from?! Already taking cautious steps towards the door the thud came from

* They kick the door open with their leg, brandishing their knives when they check the perimeter, realising it's just a box with trinkets that fell from the edge it sat on

* Yoosung has...a lot of questions

*But well, MC turns and looks at him with their usual sweet expression and he just swallows down any comments he had. Why ask what doesn't need to be answered?

* From now on he's always cowering behind MC when something spooks him, and threatens Zen or Seven with MC when they tease him

ZEN:

* He got a new role as the villain that shoots the hero at the final scene-the director asked him to use a real gun but without any bullets inside to 'make it more realistic', or so he said

* Well, Zen has never even held a gun before; no just because he rode a motorcycle doesnt mean he was some gangster that shot up banks, like Seven insists he must've

* So when he comes home baffled, flopping down on the couch besides MC, they of course ask him what's wrong, why he's frowning the way he did.

* When he explains what's wrong, MC shrugs. 'That's all? I can teach you' they say, and shoot up from the couch, leaving Zen to stare at their retreating figure with wide eyes.

* MC...would teach him how to use a gun? Sure they were really cool and he could tell they feared near next to nothing, but guns...?

* Well, he's even more baffled when MC comes out of their bedroom with a gun in each hand, twirling them around their fingers with practices ease

* 'Come on, get up' they say and not to the backdoor, 'we're going to learn how to shoot-without bullets though, because while I love you, I don't trust you with a loaded gun just yet' they add with a teasing smirk.

* Well, Zen follows along like a wobbly noodle, his hands shaking as MC hands him a pistol, guiding him through to the correct stance and hold of it. He has so, so many questions, but none of them come out, lodged in his throat like a fish bone.

* He can't say he hates this though-the way MC stands behind him, leaning one leg between his to bend his knees, how they wrap their hands around his forearms, snaking from behind his back as they hold the gun together, MC's voice breathy beside his ear.

* "Baby...be honest with me. Are you some secret foreign spy or something?"

* MC laughs, soft and devious and like music to Zen's ears.

* "That's for me to know and for you to find out" they say with a teasing wink, their accent thicker than usual, and oh boy-if Zen has a Beast inside him, then MC has a whole darn savage garden, and he's more than eager to unleash it.

JAEHEE:

* She notices bits and pieces of MC that puzzle her; their hyper-alertness to the tiniest sound, their stance-tall, proud, always ready to pounce like an alpha predator, how they'll hide Jaehee behind them at the slightest sign of danger; Jaehee figured MC was just a very cautious person, but realises soon enough that there must be something more than that happening.

* She finds out when, one day, a group of raggedy looking men come into their cafe, the one leading the pack wearing sunglasses and a cap as if to remain anonymous, speaking loudly in a different language Jaehee couldn't quite pin-point, but figured it mist be Slavic.

* She didn't pay any mind-MC was up front as the cashier today, and Jaehee was in the back preparing drinks, so she wouldn't be the one dealing with them. She did however flash the group a smile as their attention shifted to her, swiftly going back to her work.

* She heard them mutter something amongst themselves with a sly laugh, but again, she couldn't know what they were saying, so she kept her attention still on the espresso machine, watching the beans slowly get grounded into fine dust.

* Well, MC apparently more than understood what the men said-with a thud they tugged the leader-dude's shirt by the collar, bringng him inches away from their face, their mouth forming a vicious snarl as they said something to him in a low growly voice, and surprisingly, in the same language as the men spoke.

* MC let the man go with a final push away from the counter, taking pride in the way he stumbled back, his mouth agape; he immediatly nodded to his lackies who all run right behind him and straight out the door, much to Jaehee's shock.

* "MC...what just-"

"They commented on your body. I said that you're under my protection, so they shouldn't even look your way like that again." MC supplied, and with a shrug went back to their usual customer service smile.

* Jaehee didn't ask what 'under my protection' meant for MC-she was just secretly happy for her brave, badass partner.

JUMIN:

* He's very observant-and he can see crystal clear that there’s more to MC than meets the eye.

* He loves them-of course he does, and their mystique aura makes them all the more alluring to him, from the thick accent that rolls of their tongue, to their confident strut as they walk down the street, to the knives strapped on their thighs....

* Wait. Wait wait, KNIVES?!

* He notices them the first time when they’re walking downtown with MC, their bodyguards merely a few feet behind, when some crazed fangirl ran up to the couple, screaming incoherencies at Jumin’s face.

* The bodyguards were quick to act, running straight ahead and taking the fangirl away from the pair, but Jumin’s eyes are razor sharp; he didn’t miss the way MC’s hand calmly went to the slit of their flowy summer dress, dragging the hem a little higher, the flash of metal peeking off of their thigh tight on a garter.

* He doesn’t mention it straight away, but later on, at dinner, he calmly asks if MC is currently armed, and MC nonchalantly answers ‘Yea, always’, while taking a sip of their wine.

* He hums in agreement, nodding slow as he processes their reply. “What are you armed with?”

* MC smirks, leaning closer across the table, a cat-like curiosity in their gaze. “Knives, sometimes a gun, my dashing good looks-you name it and I probably have it on my person.”

* Jumin smiles. “I’m glad you take your safety this seriously my love. It makes me feel safe to know you can protect yourself if the need arises.”

* The conversation ends at that, the pair going back to their casual conversation...but not before Jumin takes a sip of his wine, eyes fluttering shut before they open again, piercing and staring right to MC with pupils blown wide.

* “I suppose I’ll have to carefully examine just what weapons it is you have on you. For your own safety, of course.”

* And well, MC ain’t about to say no to that lmao

SEVEN/SAEYOUNG:

* Hoo boy

* He’s already curious when his background check on MC brings back pretty much nothing, except their upbringing in a foreign country, and an overall normal-seeming facebook account.

* But Seven’s not satisfied. Nobody’s background is that clean. Nobody’s. So he digs more, more, more, yet still there’s nothing, and his curiosity is peaqued, his eyes narrowed as he looks to the cameras in Rika’s apartment, seeing MC nonchalantly lounge on the couch, playing on their phone.

* “I’ll find out just what it is you’re hiding” he vows, ignoring the flush of his cheeks as MC looks up to the camera with a cheeky smile, knowing exactly what it is they’re doing.

* He finds out just what it is that interested him so in MC when he dashes to the apartment, seeing MC struggle with a man who could only be the hacker, broken glass pieces at their feet from the broken window.

* He’s about to step in, tackle the man to the ground and protect MC-only he doesn’t have to. MC takes the man down in a swift movement, using their smaller frame to the man to sneak behind him and kick his shins, tumbling him down and stradling his chest to keep him in place, despite the glass chunks that are probably digging into the hacker’s back.

* More so, they pull up their skirt, bringing a knife up from the hilt, bringing it to the man’s throat with a warning growl.

* Seven...has no idea what he’s doing there, other than just staring at the two people in front of him, not until the security system’s activated and targets the hacker, who flees without so much as a word to Seven.

* “I uh. I see you had it all under control” he says with a stutter, his eyes wide. MC stands up, wiping gunk and blood off of their cheek as they turn to Seven with a grin. “Sure did, but I could always use some extra help” they tell him and oh boy. Oh fuck his life, Seven’s hooked around this person’s sharp, bloody little finger.

* He doesn’t want to scout them into his agency, because he doesn’t want this sort of life for MC-but he will ask for their assistance with missions sometimes, konwing they can more than take care of themselves when the need arises.

* Just a badass but also memey couple really lol

V/JIHYUN:

* After his first unsuccesful attempt to save MC from Rika, he’s worried how MC will fare until he comes to their rescue, if they’ll be hurt in their attempt to escape.

* Well...whatever he was expecting, he certaintly did not expect this.

* He didn’t expect to come back to the cult, only to find MC already roundhouse kicking a vial of elixir from Ray’s hands, kicking it into the ground and pummeling straight into Ray to bring him down before he could attack her, then moving straight to the rest of the Believers, fighting 4-on-1 with so much ease it looked almost like a scene out of a video game.

* V’s lost for a moment before MC turns to him, wiping sweat off their brow as he looks on in confusion. “What the hell are you doing?” they ask, grabbing his hand as they tug him along, “we have to go! Come on!”

* Seven’s skills were pretty much unecessary in their escape lmao, but he’s still glad he tagged along to help the pair escape.

* When in the safety of the faraway cabin, and without anyone having to actually take the elixir this time, V sits dumbfounded, looking to MC like they’re some sort of vicious god.

* “How-how did you do all of that? You just-” he remembers the ease they fought men twice their size off, how they even pulled a knife on one to intimidate him before he could so much as raise a finger to hurt V. “You’re so...strong” he decides, lost for words.

* MC shrugs. “I just do a lot of upper body exercises at the gym. And TRX. It’s good strength training.”

* Honestly....V’s route flows so much easier with this badass MC by his side lol. Rika doesn’t stand a chance to hurt anyone with MC here.

RAY/SAERAN/UNKNOWN:

* Their skills were not, in fact, why he chose MC as his tester. He didn’t even really know about any of their badassery, only that they grew up in a foreign country, and could speak multiple languages, which he found interesting, sure, but unecessary.

* He was thrilled at their kind nature, but also a little aprehensive. He knows no usual person would just up and walk into a van with a driver that blindfolded them to take them to an unkown location. What secrets could MC be hiding? He wanted nothing more than to find out.

* Well, he finds out soon enough. Or rather, Saeran does-when his agressiveness kicks in, when he tries to tackle MC to the ground and hold them in place, show them he’s superior...well, he doesn’t get the chance to.

* MC frowns at him as he tries to push them to the wall, taking his hand and holding it in a bruising-tight hold, swiftly moving behind him and bringing his hand to his back, the cracking sound of his shoulder alerting him he’s most certaintly going to feel that for the next few days.

* “You don’t get to touch me as you please” MC whispers in his ear before letting him go, seeing the way he stumbles a few steps ahead before regaining his balance.

* MC is still kind and tries to help him become the kind person they met in the begining of their arrival here, but won’t take Saeran’s shit under any circumstances. Instead they fight back tooth and nail, showing him all they got when he tries to push them around.

* This also makes escaping the cult with Saeran that much easier-they fight through hoards of Believers like they were paper-light, MC even grabbing a pistol off of one of them and firing scarily precise warning shots at just the right places to scare them all off.

* Welp, mark down Saeran as scared *and* horny lmao

VANDERWOOD:

* He met MC through their escape attempt with V and Seven, and hoo boy-HOO BOY.

* He sees their agility, their swift movements and the way they handle a knife like it was but an extension of their hand, and he’s head over heels in an instant.

* He keeps trying to scout them into the agency, promising them riches, but MC laughs at his offer with a roll of their eyes, refusing every time.

* Once, when he asks MC to join, they lean close to him, bringing a finger under his chin as they tilt his face to meet theirs. “Why don’t you join me instead?” they purr, and at that moment, Vanderwood is putty under their hands.

* He’d follow this badass person to the ends of the world, agency be damned.

* He does ask them to team up with him for some missions, secretly from the agency, and is pleased with the results, noting how quickly and efficiently the two work as a team.

* They’re literally the most badass couple in existence hoooly shit lol

-Send me mystic messenger headcanons/prompts for character reactions!-

[tsipasce]

Same Difference Ch.17

A/N: Here is your reward for enduring last week lmao. This one is a bit long, but cutting it up just didn't seem as gratifying so I hope you guys enjoy.

Also, thank you so much for all the kudos, comments and bookmarks on AO3 and FFN-- you guys are too kind :'). I'll try posting more regularly on Tumblr too if ppl wanna read it here. Let me know what y'all think~

There was darkness, then flickers of lights and the occasional overwhelming flow of noises before it ebbed to silence and darkness yet again. First, she felt she was on a hard surface like concrete, then cold metal, then something cushion-like… a bed? Her thoughts were incoherent, presenting more as disjointed words and feelings. Anger, regret, hurt, with a sprinkle of sadness on top. Her body was heavy, every limb feeling as though the blood had been replaced with lead. Her head lolled and she heard someone suddenly shift at her side, the bed dipping under the pressure of said someone leaning on it and over her but was too out of it to open her eyes. Acquiescing, she fell back into unconsciousness.

An indefinite amount of time passed while she was in the darkness before her senses began to return fully. She heard typing, now able to feel a presence nearby. She wanted to open her eyes, but the task seemed too daunting still, simply listening would have to be enough for now.

“I can stand watch for now, if you’d like.” One voice offered, softly.

“What I’d like is to be left alone.” The other replied curtly.

“I see. We’re going to leave in the next few hours, I’ll get everyone ready.”

“You do that.”

Well this guy sounds like a treat… Nanami thought, her sarcasm unsurprisingly returning before the rest of her senses and memories. There were footsteps and then a soft thud, like a door being carefully shut. A couple moments passed before she heard what sounded like a laptop being closed, then footsteps coming towards her, and then silence. She desperately wanted to wake up, but her body refused to cooperate, causing her eyes to flutter behind her eyelids as she struggled in vain to move. She could sense the presence hadn’t left and she felt anxious as to what might happen next before hearing a sigh. She felt a sheet being pulled up to cover her arms, where goosebumps had been forming from the draft in wherever she was.

“I’ll deal with you when I get back.” The voice said with a hint of annoyance, though it was betrayed by its gentle tone. Hearing footsteps growing fainter, a door opened and closed once more. The words themselves were threatening but the way they were spoken, she felt oddly comforted. Falling back into the darkness, she decided to cultivate her energy and try her luck at waking up again later.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Emerging from the darkness again, the pain began immediately. Her head throbbed and she reflexively tried to groan but found her mouth and throat painfully full. Instantly recognizing the feeling, panic set in, the only other thing she could perceive being the desperate need for it to stop. She grabbed the tube, disassembling and reassembling it outside her body. The large obstruction dropped unceremoniously to the floor and she coughed, glad to be rid of it.

“Don’t be so rough with the equipment.”

She rolled her head to the direction of the voice, a bright light hitting her eyes as she struggled to open them for the first time since… Damn. It all came rushing back to her at once, the voice no longer a mystery. Her vision focused and she found herself looking at Overhaul as he sat at her bedside. His mask was on as he stared at her blankly. She stared back for a beat, not knowing how to begin speaking about what brought them to this point. Deciding she should be fully awake and rested for that conversation, she mentally tabled it, opting for their usual banter instead.

“It’s still intact isn’t it?” She cleared her throat, massaging it as she continued, “How long was I out?”

“Three days.”

“THREE DAYS?” Her eyes shot wide, another coughing fit beginning as she raised her voice after not speaking for days.

“Yes, that’s what I said.” He grimaced, moving back a bit at her sudden outburst, “Cough in the other direction.”

“No surprise that your bedside manner could use some work.” She sighed as she adjusted to raise herself up, wincing as her sore muscles tried their best to comply. He promptly rose, putting a pillow behind her as she sat up, his expression blank yet attentive, “Thanks.”

He nodded as he took his seat again and the silence continued, painfully. It felt like their first meeting all over again, neither knowing how to broach the awkward topic. Looking back, Nanami was angry at how insufferably rude he could be but couldn’t ignore her own part in this. A pang of guilt sat heavily in her chest when she remembered how easily she let her emotions get the best of her; she hadn’t told someone off like that in ages. In her mind, it in no way absolved him, but to say it was all his fault would be a lie. In that moment of rage, she… What did I do anyway? She glanced down, now more confused than anything, her brows furrowing before looking at him.

“Let’s chat.”

He readjusted in his chair, leaning back as he crossed his legs and folded his arms across his chest, “Let’s.”

His body language oozed condescension as though she was about to be scolded like a child and she hated it, “Why’d you attack me. Again.”

His eyes narrowed, displeased with how she was beginning their talk,” That was going to be my question to you. I thought we had a deal.”

“What are you talking about? We did—we do—I did not attack you.” she defended. Nanami knew they were both wrong for getting so worked up, but she wouldn’t stoop that low over an argument. “I was wrong, we both were for getting so heated, but I wouldn’t just start throwing hands like that. So again, why did you attack me? I thought… I thought we got passed all that.”

His brow furrowed at the implication, his jaw clenching uncomfortably at the hurt in her voice, “We are. We’re far passed all of that.” He intoned with a level of sincerity that seemed foreign to him. Having spent the past three days chastising himself for putting her in this position, wishing the exchange could be taken back, it was difficult to sound detached. He’d been angry, but harming her had been something he’d put out of his mind some time ago, “I didn’t attack you either…”

They both shared a moment of sincere confusion. Overhaul hadn’t come out unscathed either, having to heal his own head injury as well as a cracked vertebra from the impact once he came to. “Then what the hell happened?” Nanami asked, speaking the question they were both wrestling with. She looked around the room for her bag at the same time Overhaul reached for his laptop.

“We should run tests.” They said in unison. He handed her her notebook from the bag and a pen as they began noting exactly what happened leading up to the explosion.  As she recalled the events, there were a number of theories that came to mind, as well as ideas on how to safely perform reenactments of what transpired, but she also remembered the argument beforehand. He was somehow even more quiet than usual, and she could tell his gears were turning that morning, but the hostility seemed so out of the blue. Putting down her pen, he glanced up at her, noticing the sound of her writing had stopped and she was staring down thoughtfully.

“Did you think of something?”

“…Yeah. I did. Why’d you pick a fight with me that day?”

He looked back down at his keyboard and continued typing, “I don’t know what you mean. That little tiff was a joint effort.”

“No, no, no. It may have ended up that way, but you blew up at me after an entire week of solid teamwork. I expect the snide comments and the general air of grumpiness, but that was different… What happened?” He made the mistake of making eye contact with her. She didn’t look angry, just hurt.

Taken aback, all he could manage was “… I don’t know.” He wasn’t sure how to respond to that “emotion” nor did he have any plans to discuss feelings. If he was being honest, he wasn’t even sure why he did it himself. Perhaps it was self-sabotage and he was pushing her away, but to accept that would mean acknowledging they had gotten close; that he had, at some point, made the subconscious decision to stop viewing her as a pawn or even just a colleague, and to indulge the need for far more than their formal arrangement. He wasn’t ready to come to terms with the possible loss of his objectivity when it came to whatever went on between them, but he knew he’d have to confront the undercurrents of their relationship at some point. Right now, they had discovered a possible breakthrough in their research and there was no room for delay. With a ghost of a plan in mind for how to move forward with Nanami, he decided it would be more logical to smooth things over in the immediate moment with Dr. Watanabe; separating the two identities giving him the illusion of control. He continued” But I do know it won’t happen again. That was…unprofessional. How is your head?”

She bit her lip and exhaled, seeing the switch flick in his eyes knowing the wall had been put back up. “It’s... it’s fine. Just a little—no, really sore.” She confirmed with herself, rubbing her hand over the source of the pain to find stiches. Why wouldn’t he just overhaul this? “So, you decided to fix this the old-fashioned way, huh? The stitchwork is impeccable, but why go through the trouble? You could have just—”

“I didn’t want to touch you.”

“… Ouch.” She winced, glancing away as the abrupt response hurt a bit more than she expected.

Realizing it hadn’t been received how he planned, he clarified,” I meant I…didn’t want to use it on you. I was under the impression we had somehow attacked each other and assumed you might not find the prospect of me handling you in that way all that appealing.”

“…Oh. Well, thank you... I don’t mind if you touch me now” he rose a brow at this, “—I mean like to heal or—Oh you know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes before crossing her arms and continuing, “Just… just do it, please.”  The last word tacked on with a mumble.

Letting out an amused breath, he rose, motioning her to turn so her back faced him as he removed his gloves. She quickly brushed her hair to the side, missing a few strands. She tensed as he was much closer than she was prepared for, feeling the warmth of his hands against the nape of her neck as he gently gathered the stray hairs and handed them to her to gather in front. Smoothing down the part, he leisurely ran his hands through her hair, losing himself for a second before noticing the tops of her ears had reddened and her breath had quickened at his ministrations. Refocusing, he disassembled the stitches before immediately healing the wound knowing even a millisecond of delay would prove very painful. “Done.”

Cracking her neck and rolling her shoulders, she felt normal again and ready to get out of bed as her muscles had been unused for the better part of three days. Checking the time on her phone on the nightstand she saw it was only 6 am, “So, you wanna go for a run?”

“That’s not funny.”

“Fine, fine. But on a serious note, I think we should head to the lab. I know the deal was 2 weeks bu—”

“You don’t have to bargain. Get cleaned up, I’ll start preparations for testing tomorrow.”

She turned to him, brows raised in surprise, “Well okay then. I’ll see you back at the house.”

“See you there.” He said before exiting her room, shutting the door softly.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After a thorough scrubbing and stretching, she felt ready to get back to her remaining paperwork, putting on her favorite chunky turtleneck and sweatpants effectively pulling off the lazy-but-still-fashionable look. Brewing herself a cup of tea and pulling out her workbag, she thought it best to not dwell on all the Feels ™ that had continuously threatened to surface, which was undoubtedly exacerbated by their current living situation.

She was woman enough to admit she stared just a little too long, smiled just a bit too enthusiastically, and was way too excited by even the smallest bits of physical contact with him… But it’s just a crush. She lied to herself as though he hadn’t been the most intellectually stimulating person she’d had the pleasure of talking to. As though she’d ever felt silence more comfortable than their time in the lab or simply sharing meals together. As though— Girl if you don’t concentrate... She chastised herself before attempting to neatly compartmentalize her feelings, refusing to acknowledge just how much more difficult keeping them in check had become. It’s just because you’re all up under each other, it’ll pass.

Refocusing on the task at hand, she opened her laptop and pulled out a well-worn file folder, her gaze turning somber as her fingers traced the bend of it; evidence of the many nights she’d revisited it only to close it when the answers didn’t come. In the past month she’d taken on a patient who seemingly had nowhere to go. Many of her colleagues had turned him away, seemingly too jaded to go through the trouble of dealing with such a case. Nanami herself was puzzled when she reviewed his file, but she knew there was no other option; she had to at least try.

Kenta was a very jovial, large person with a personality to match. Built much like a strongman with tusks not unlike a walrus, he was hard to miss. Before he became her patient, she’d see him making small talk with the other patients, encouraging them though he himself was on the way to chemotherapy, his weight dwindling by the day. The previous doctors told him that he had osteosarcoma, a rare form of bone cancer. It was seemingly exacerbated by his quirk that gave him dense bones; they were perfect for diving, but apparently came at this very high price. The treatment had shown mild success, but her predecessors had decided his condition was becoming too advanced and an amputation was in order. After that visit, he attempted to keep his jovial nature, but his physical appearance continued to deteriorate, the medication and tests taking their toll. Full-hardy laughs were interrupted by coughing fits, round cheeks flexed into a habitual smile were replaced with gaunt hollows. Nanami couldn’t help but feel was cruel to be given such great power and still be unable to solve this problem.

She agonized, sincerely perplexed as to why someone as healthy and active as Kenta could have developed such an aggressive and rare form of cancer so quickly. It didn’t helped that after the first doctor’s diagnosis, the subsequent three doctors took little to no efforts to confirm said diagnosis, so she remained thoroughly unconvinced. She was a prodigy in her own right, but that alone couldn’t negate seniority. To go against the other doctors, she would need substantial proof of her theory—and also a theory to begin with.

Nanami was stirred from her thoughts by the sound of the silo being activated, as Overhaul stepped out. It had been hours since she had last gotten up as day turned into late night, too engrossed in her task. She glanced up for a moment, giving an absent-minded “hey” before returning to her work. It was unlike her to brush him off so quickly, and he assumed there were still hard feelings from earlier. Approaching her, he was about to speak before he caught a glimpse of her screen and notes, the file folder and its contents now haphazardly splayed on the coffee table, a few with drops of moisture on them.

“Didn’t I tell you no drinking in the living roo—” he stopped short, hearing a small sniffle escape her, before she attempted to cover it up by clearing her throat.

“Sorry, yeah, no drinking in the living room.” She laughed emptily, gathering the papers that were stained.

Seeing people cry was usually... uninspiring to him, to say the least; he couldn’t understand it, the need for such dramatic displays as an adult. But he found himself making exceptions more and more; she wasn’t one to throw herself on the floor in a tantrum—at least not seriously. Her tears were stifled, indignant, and his curiosity—yes, we’ll call it “curiosity”— got the better of him.

“What are you doing? Crying?”

“No!... Maybe.” She stubbornly corrected, further averting her gaze, hoping to use her hair as a curtain to obscure her face. Pausing for a beat, his attention turned to what he presumed was the source. He read over it as she attempted to fix her face. His brow furrowed, and Nanami turned back to see what he was doing. “Why do you care?”

“Osteosarcoma seems like an odd diagnosis for someone with his age and history.” He noted, choosing not to answer her question.

“That’s what I said!” she instinctually replied before remembering herself, “I mean quit snooping, this is patient-doctor information. It’s illegal to share.”

“Yet you brought it outside your office, to a yakuza base.” He deadpanned, pointing out the hypocrisy, taking a seat next to her on the couch. She pursed her lips, continuing to mull over theories, assuming he’d get bored and leave her be. “If not osteosarcoma, what do you think it could be?”

Knowing discretion was one of his strong suits, she decided to humor him. “I’m not sure. The tumor grew extremely fast and they began chemo almost immediately, so I didn’t get the benefit of a fresh diagnosis. He’d been perfectly healthy otherwise and his line of work kept him pretty active.”

“What’s his occupation?”

“He’s a commercial diver, it’s pretty fitting since his quirk gives him a lot of walrus-like qualities.”

“Sounds hazardous.”

“You’re one to talk. He’s practically made for it so drowning or being crushed under the pressure is near-impossible for him.”

“I was referring to all of the equipment. The fact that he’s kept all of his limbs up to this point is impressive.”

Slowly turning to him, a tired look on her face, she replied “… Your compliments are so very strange.”

Shrugging he continued, “It’s not that odd. The number of divers and sailors I’ve seen at port with mutilated legs is not small.”

Nanami was mid eye-roll when an epiphany struck her. Her eyes went wide, and she began frantically rummaging through the paperwork. "Shit-- wait, online!" grabbing her laptop, she began typing in a frenzy as Overhaul watched calmly. Finding Kenta's online records in the hospital database, she read a file from a month before his diagnosis stating he had been in a diving accident that severely fractured his leg where his tumor now was. She let out a shaky breath of excitement, "MO. It's fucking Myositis Ossificans! This explains why the 'tumor' grew so quickly. It's because it wasn't even really a tumor, just his body's response to a traumatic injury-- This is amazing!" 

He felt the corner of his mouth tug upward, as she practically wiggled in genuine excitement. “That diagnosis sounds much more appropriate.”

Facing him on the couch, she reflexively grabbed him by his shoulders, lost in excitement, before realizing what she was doing. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to just grab you like that,” she hurriedly removed her hands before he waved it off. “It’s just... I’ve been poring over this since I got this case but hadn’t thought to make that connection since he never mentioned the injury.” Thinking back for a moment, it dawned on her, “... how did you know to ask?”

 “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.”

Smiling, he rose, walking to the kitchen, “Would you like a cup?”

Very aware he was evading her question, she rolled her eyes smiling in kind “Sure. Of what?” She wrote down her final notes before putting away the files, tucking them and her laptop away as she waited for an answer.

Bringing over two cups of sake and the bottle, he sat next her with his own before sliding over her cup. She gave him a look and he sighed, “Consider it your reward for your work today. But don’t get used to it, my living room consumption rule still stands.”

She raised her hands in surrender, chuckling before taking a sip. “Oh! Let’s play a game.”

His brows furrowed as he continued to face forward still enjoying his drink,” Do I seem like a man who plays games?”

“Well, judging by the shogi board, I’d say yes.”

“… Just set the board.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a bit before starting the odd conversation, chatting and playing until they were on their fourth cup. Nanami was admittedly tipsy by this point and decided to ask something that had been on her mind for a while now with the aid of her liquid courage. If ever there was an opportunity, it was now, “Hey, why didn’t you ever become a doctor?” The question caught him off guard as he stopped drinking and peered off into the distance thoughtfully. His lips parting for a moment to speak before closing again to consider his answer.

“It would be difficult to treat people you can’t touch.”

“Hm… sounds like a copout. I wear gloves on the job at least 80% of the time and a lot of the non-surgical work that requires touching could easily be done by a nurse. So, what’s the real reason?”

“Well, you’re awfully bold tonight.”

“Eh, it’s your fault anyway,” she reminded him, toying with the sake glass. “So, are you gonna tell me or not?”

He considered her for a second before answering, “Win this game and I’ll tell you.”

“Easy.” She shot back before considering another outcome, “and what if I lose?”

He smiled easily, her stomach flipping as a glint of mischief was evident in his eyes, “Just try your best to win.”

Nanami was determined, or at least she convinced herself she was, not wanting to confront her curiosity at what he would do if she lost … or what he would do to me… Ok, let me put down this sake before I get a life sentence to horny jail. Recomposing herself a bit, she observed the board, stifling a smirk when she saw her path to victory. It was a moderately long game, but the outcome was in her favor as she took his king. Raising the piece betwixt her fingers, she smirked, “Now spill the beans.”

He stared into the proverbial abyss, slightly peeved at the loss, priding himself as a more-than proficient player before tonight. “Give me a moment.” He said casually raising a finger as he cleared his throat. Taking a measured sip from his cup before locking eyes with her, “I have a duty.” Nanami shot him an unsatisfactory look before he clarified, continuing, “Pops took me in when I had nothing to offer. This,” he began as he leered at his hands, recalling the destruction they regularly wrought, “is what I was meant to become in order to repay him. Bringing the yakuza back to their former glory and carrying on his legacy are my primary objectives. My time is limited since he’s not as young as he used to be. The years of schooling it would take to reap the benefits he deserves would prove much too long. Indulging in a dream like that is not in my nature, even if I did have the time. That is why.”

Her smile dulled as she processed his response. She wasn’t self-righteous enough to impose her own ideals on him, but it seemed like such a waste. His leading questions tonight were just one of many examples of his expertise. Even without the formal schooling he had a level of mastery that could easily earn him a degree, and coupled with his research skills, he could do a world of good. But instead here he was, content with just the opportunity to pay his debts. For someone so arrogant, he thought surprisingly little of his own nature.  Maybe someday someone could convince him he didn’t have to carry around this weight all the time. Still very tipsy, she responded,” Well, if it’s a dream of yours to begin with, your nature can’t be all that bad now can it?” At this he knitted his brows, trying to accept the possibility. Seeing his hesitation, she continued, “You can do both, you know. Give yourself some more credit, bird brain.” She slurred the last insult, finishing her sake off with a gulp, not wanting to sound too soft. Feeling the consequences of her actions, she swayed sleepily in her seat before closing her eyes.

The next thing she knew, she felt herself being nudged awake, “Come on, get up. You need to get into bed.”

“But it’s sooo comfy here. Why are you being such a buzzkill, Kai?” she whined as he grasped her forearms, encouraging her to rise from her seat.

Stopping in his tracks, he asked a bit taken aback, “Where did you hear that name?”

“Your Poppy Pops told me” She almost sang, a grin plastered on her face.

“…Do not ever use the phrase ‘Poppy Pops’ again. Also, if couches were meant for sleeping, beds wouldn’t exist.” He responded irritated, though he handled her like porcelain, still remembering how unpleasant the last three days had been. Guiding Nanami to her room, he finally got her to lay down after tuning out a slew of other ridiculous nickname proposals, the drowsiness setting in as soon as her head hit the pillow. Knowing it would be too much work convincing a now drunk Nanami to get under the covers, he begrudgingly put a spare blanket over her. Before leaving, he looked back at her sleepy form. As much as they could grate each other’s nerves, no one had ever thought to encourage him or challenge his own thinking besides his father. He had never been a warm or sentimental person, having to try thrice as hard to grasp emotions that came so naturally to others, but she had planted a seed of doubt. Having always been so confident in his own lacking, he found a part of himself excited to be proven wrong for the first time. Before closing the door softly, he spoke “Thank you, Nanami.”

[spockandawe]

Writing meta asks: 3, 7, 10, 17, and 20? (I'm so sorry for sending so many, this was an interesting ask set!)

Hahaha, no worries at all! Since I just covered 3, let’s see about these others :D

7. What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

Oh man, this one always stumps me. The easy answer is that my writing is characterized by being in second person, unless I am dragged kicking and screaming to another pov XD But more in the spirit of the original question, I have... heard that a thing about my writing that stands out to people is good dialog exchanges. It’s kind of wild to me, because I feel like I spend a lot of time struggling to exit characters’ heads and advance the story, lmao. I would be curious to hear from anyone with opinions on this, what’s distinctive about my writing from an outside pov, because from the inside, I cannot tell at all XD

10. How would you describe your writing process?

I think usually when I start, I’ve got some scene that stands out very clearly in my head, either as a visual, or as an audible conversation (sometimes it’s more than one scene, and you get something like the tianlang-jun verse, or the diet bingge, and scope spirals out of my control). But most of the writing is an attempt to get to that scene that hit me really hard, and to make it hit the reader strongly too. But the actual writing process... mostly I write short fics, so I start at a plausible onboarding point, and go until it stops. If it’s longer, I start at the beginning and go until my attention span fails me, then organize my notes into something semi-coherent, and start writing at whatever point catches my eye, until I edit the whole together :V

(somewhere I’ve got a draft saved for an ask meme about specific fics, and things like inspiration/process/favorite moment/etc. I need to dig that out at some point, because I have a tough time talking in generalities, but I love talking in specifics XD I’ll try to find that, but honestly, my inbox is always open to people asking about my stories)

17. Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?

Ooh, wow. Hm. This is a really interesting question. Man, I want to give this a really thoughtful, well-thought-out answer, but I am absolutely terrible at gauging how other people perceive anything ever XD I occasionally get comments that seem to think I’m dunking on a less-than-sympathetic character who I actually love deeply, but those are pretty rare. My writing and motivations.... I don’t know! I think there aren’t that many unplumbed depths there. I’m not a terribly symbolic writer, I can maybe noodle for longer than people expect about characters’ inner worlds and what they were thinking/feeling in my fics, but I don’t think that’s much of a surprise to anyone who’s followed me for long, haha

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

Oh boy, I did not read ahead XDDD Uhmmm, let me see. I guess a major part of most of my longer wips right now is... Shen Jiu. I’ve rambled about him before, but I just want to scream about him all the time, because he’s absolutely terrible to Luo Binghe. He does awful, unnecessary, cruel things to him. I want to get Luo Binghe out of his hands asap, in any given setting (except the diet bingge verse, lmao), and then I want to devote lots and lots of energy to exploring his emotional world and damage and giving him something better. Because this man is miserable! Some of it is self-inflicted, some of it isn’t, and even if he’s not in a downward emotional spiral, he’s like.... an emotional ouroboros, hovering at a pretty miserable place. He’s not going to break free on his own, and he’s not going to let anybody break him free if he can help it, and it sucks, it’s terrible, it’s miserable for both him and the people around him! And. AND. I don’t want to just tell people all about how tragic his life is (though I will absolutely do that too), I want to show them the trapped feeling, the suffocating unhappiness, all of it. I feel like it’s a lot more compelling to read through that kind of situation than to just be told about it, and I really, really do want to (over the course of multiple fics and verses) communicate the... tragedy of his existence, while also finding ways to reach down into that pit and lift him up. It’s important to me.

adfasgd that’s a mildly incoherent note to end on. Here’s a different favorite thing! In the diet bingge verse, even after shen jiu becomes binghe’s second husband, they both insist (and believe) that they hate each other, and that the other one is the worst. however, in a drugged-up haze, sha yuan (third husband) is going to insist, within hearing of both of them, that shen qingqiu is the love of binghe’s life. This will mortify and horrify both of them, they will both be appalled, and mutually decide never to speak of this again. However, he’s also.......... not exactly wrong. Nobody is ever going to admit this out loud, but in a crisis, Binghe’s first instinct is to seek out Shizun before anyone else. This has the bonus effect that Shen Qingqiu will immediately start hunting for ANY OTHER HUSBAND to take a panicking Binghe off his hands, which is Binghe’s excuse if anyone ever calls him out on it, but... he never really stopped thinking that Shizun was the most clever, most capable person alive, and his first instinct in a real crisis is to look to Shen Qingqiu as a dependable waypoint to orient himself on. ‘Love’ isn’t exactly the right word, but I’m not sure there’s a better word, and sha yuan is just muttering to himself like ‘i fucking told you so’

[axemetaphor]

wwwhats up its 430am I cant sleep and I dont think I've ever done an annoying headcanon ramble for jdate on here so here we fuckin goooo I'm on mobile but I'm gonna try my damnedest to do a read more and if it doesnt work and looks stupid well sue me

amy is the one routinely awake before the other two. I dont mean shes always the first one to wake up, but her back pain is more likely to have her up in the early hours of the morning. shes also the only one who has anything thay resembles q sleeping schedule of the three as john is just like, completely fucked in that department and Dave's insomnia/depression-sleeping fucks him over sometimes. basically amy Has A Brain and also lost likely schedules it so that she can be falling asleep as her pain pills take effect.

amy also is the one who's like fairly into self care stuff like fuckinuhhh face masks and shit—look, I dont inow jackshit about self care, but I mean amy strikes me as the kind of person to actually maintain her appearance in a fairly regular manner. john will just like "forget" to take care of himself and then just Be Decadent for a week and then "forget" again (either going on a bender or just actually being normal for once) and all dave knows of self care is "when I get the urge to eat an entire pie, and give into that urge, That is self care"

anyways Partially because of that I headcanon Dave gets acne like Pretty Much All The Time and hes just kinda stopped caring about it. amy gets acne Sometimes because it just like Happens. john is that one lucky motherfucker who just is somehow naturally immune. perpetually clear skin on this man. I hate him

also dave Kind Of strikes me as the kind of guy fuckign "3 in 1" shampoo is targeted towards the man just Does Not Care. other girlfriends have tried to get him into actually using different kinds of soaps and not just defaulting to "3 in 1 wherever I think soap should go" but its amy who actually succeeds in breaking this terrible habit hes had.

also I think that Despite his hair being described as frizzy and all that, John actually takes care of his hair. except for times when hes Less Than Functional. and also yknow when the world is fuckin ending but I doubt anyone really has time for a haircare routine when they gotta be fighting monsters and shit

amy again is just a normal person about hair. but shes the only one who can actually cut hair and tbqh I think she does it Pretty Well! shes no professional but shes not john either that's for sure (if you let john close to your head with scissors, well— it's your funeral, man)

this is completely projecting and also like totally Useless but I just think it would be funny if Dave has exploding head syndrome. if you donf know what that is it's a phenomenon-or-something where right when you're dropping off to sleep your brain just liek idk gets bored I guess? and comes up with some phantom Loud Noises to startle the shit out of you. it's great! and by 'great' I mean terribly annoying! but in general I think Dave is a Very restless sleeper so him suddenly flinching himself awake isnt exactly Abnormal.

amy sleeps like a normal human being Mostly, I think she Might be one of those sorts who likes to sleep curled up in the fetal position which is so very valid. she gets night terrors sometimes though because ✨trauma✨. the best way to comfort her with that is a tight hug cause I feel like her Main fear would be that shes all alone again and a hug sure does help people feel less alone I think,

john either starfishes out when he sleeps (also I headcanon he likes to sleep at least Partially on top of Dave and Dave only pretends to hate it) or grabs hold of something and clings to it tightly. hes a very light sleeper, though, and snaps awake at any loud noise or especially if he gets bumped into too strongly. this doesn't always play well with Dave's restlessness and tendency to Sleep Fight but they manage.

I feel like its fairly common to Assume john has tattoos but specifically I feel like a lot of his tattoos are things he or his friends have drawn, I wrote about it Once Or Twice but maybe not here so I'll just like say it again, I think he asks his friends to draw shit on him then goes and gets it tattooed later (or, hell, right then and there lmao) and it's like a Mark of Friendship. he claims Dave has drawn the most on him because Dave's his best friend but whether or not that's true, who knows. the first one was from Dave, though, and john did it himself stick-and-poke style the night of. that happened while they were still in high school and Dave was actually Slightly Embarrassed because what he doodled was just like really stupid looking and fuckin hell john now you're gonna have that on you forever what the hell man? but the rest of John's tattoos, if not done by friends they're either things he drew (I maintain he still draws in his downtime I love the idea of artistically talented john so much-) or weird shit he found online.

I honestly didnt think Dave would really get tattoos because he does state hes afraid of needles BUT as someone Also afraid of needles who paradoxically wants tattoos .. he could probably power through it and get like A Few. one of them is from John (stick-and-poke style, again,) and I am Not actually sure how many hed have but definitely less than John. amy only has that one tattoo that I keep forgetting when I draw her godfuckendammit-

John is the one who makes the most Food Monstrosities (Dave barely even bothers to cook) and he does this by making just the worst decisions both technical-wise (as in, hes Definitely the "just turn the oven temperature up to speedrun cooking" kind of guy) and taste-wise. dave on the other hand is likely to make terrible drinks like jack daniels + mountain dew which my buddy Ben so fantastically dubbed "jack and piss." the sheer Concept of jack daniels + mtn dew tho is thanks to that one kurtis conner video about becoming a country boy which is entirely unrelated but everyone needs to know. ANYWAY.

john and Amy like playing pranks on each other (and dave). they're in an ongoing low-key prank war and Dave is Mostly just spectating but sometiems they Conspire to commit mischief against him. it's annoying sometimes but ultimately more endearing than it is annoying so he never gets Too mad.

john and Amy absolutely have Gaming Nights(tm) that sometimes include dave as well unless they wanna play some like fps game, I'm fairly sure hes said he doesnt really like those. but they also can get Competetive which, dave tends to act as a bit of a buffer to keep them from getting Too into it ... but sometimes he gets a little competitive too. what I'm trying to say is them playing mario kart is absolute chaos and also an event i woudl buy tickets to

john has a youtube channel for sure. he is So obnoxious. he hardly has any audience because let's be honest his videos kind of suck— they're all either kinda boring vlogs or him recording the cases he and Dave go on (when he can convince Dave to let him) which are almost always declared Fake by the commenters. amy is subscribed to him. dave probably doesnt even have/use his own YouTube channel so he was not subscribed until john stole his phone and did it for him. (he never watches the videos) the videos are not edited much, I dont think any of them really knows too much about video editing shit.

dave cant fuckin do math.

John and Dave do Not know how to handle crying. like Dave's learned what helps Amy, in specific, but anybody else? clueless. Dave also just does not cry very often in general (shut up lemme project again LMAO-) and tends to just refrain from doing it even if he wants to/probably should, rarely ever actually breaking down and letting it all out; he'll stop himself from getting there/even crying much in the first place. he doesn't exactly have a Reason for it or at least not one he can recite (it's the bullying. we dont get details of how that was beyond The Locker Room Incident which I wont go into but I'm just going to project the rest of it was similar to shit I went through, It's The Bullying). John also kinda Doesn't Cry and actually hes even more restrained about it than Dave, because he won't even cry around either of them if he can avoid it and if it happens he 1) will Not address it, 2) prefers no one else acknowledge it, and 3) will Run The Fuck Away if it's acknowledged. they both try Really Really Hard to help amy when shes crying though, if shes crying for a Big Reason, cause they both also understand she just cries easily and doesnt always need or want comfort.

that,s all for now BUT if I come up with mroe. there will be a reblog. also these are not all like "I am the only one who's ever tho ig ht this" or w/e a lot of them are from me talking with other people or Absorbing much older posts on here because I read Everuthing I can find.

I sure hope I can sleep soon, this is probably mostly incoherent. gnight

[hoopdiddies]

I'm Not Over You // Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 10)

A/N: I am so sorry that I have not been on for a full week. The phone I had used to edit this in broke and I had to buy a new one plus this is the last chapter and apparently the longest, regardless of my recent claims of the previous ones being the longest lmao. I hope this won't disappoint, I couldn't think of a more consistent flow due to the days I've been without my phone to type some ideas in. I hope you guys will enjoy this last part anyway, and thank you so much for supporting this entire series! I have a new series in mind but it's a WIP. Thanks again for all the love! IMPORTANT NOTE: I WILL BE CUTTING A PART IN THIS CHAPTER AND PUTTING IT UNDER A PART 10.1 IMMEDIATELY AFTER I POST THIS FOR THE SAKE OF THE LIMIT. TAGS WILL BE MENTIONED IN THE COMMENTS

Summary for this part: A wedding brought you apart and it will be a wedding that will bring you back together.

Warnings: A good balance of fluff and angst, mention of injuries and alcohol and some long ass writing.

WC: A whopping 10k

Parts: 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

You are painfully a feet away from the door and yet here you are, frozen after having turned 180 degrees only to stumble upon those eyes you had hoped to gaze into again. One swallow from you and you begin gliding along the tiled surface towards him, checking through every pad whether or not he's really awake.

After stopping at his side, you are now certain you're not anywhere close to dreaming. "Ben?" His name leaving your lips like an answered prayer. He's staring back at you with his left eye half-open – taking into account his current sensitivity to light– but with the same energy he exudes everytime you're together.

His chapped lips curl into a smile so slow yet so sweet at the same time; almost an upgrade to his classic 'Benny beam' which you had fun dubbing back in the days. "Y/N..."

And once again, you disrupt the orderly function of your tears and let them gush down, quickly but carefully wrapping your arms around him in bittersweet joy, exclaiming his name thrice into his hospital gown. "You...you bloody idiot! I thought you'd never wake up..."

Having just woken up from a coma, his voice comes out extra breathy and brittle but full of life, chuckling at how you're greeting him back into the conscious world. "Is that...is that how you welcome your best mate back?"

You shake your head ardently, sniffling against his chest and taking in the scent of mint. "Shut up. You frightened us!"

He really wakes up seconds before the clock strikes 'it's too late'. The convenience is hardly believable.

"I'm gonna call the doctor and tell him you're up." You act swiftly on your feet but a grip as strong as you least expected it to be hinders you from taking a step away and you turn around at Ben who's woven his fingers around yours. You give him a concerned yet quizzical look for it.

He sighs deeply, closing his logy eyes for a brief moment before opening them to you– gazing up at you meaningfully as he draws you close with the little, physical strength he has left. "You frightened me, rather."

"What... are you talking about?"

You won't admit it now but the way his fingers are currently snaked around yours could make your heart palpitate any second now.

His green eyes bore into yours effectively, suddenly invalidating your surroundings and making it seem like it's just you and him on the face of the entire planet.

He struggles to swallow before repeating. "You frightened me. You're still leaving..."

His voice crack as he said 'leaving' obliterates the fragments of what was once your soul, punching a gaping hole as a replacement. How is he able to remember your emotional outburst at the after party when he has just woken up and should at least forget a few details?

But then you realize you've been talking to him a lot as he was out of order.

You nod unfortunately, laying your hand on his which is still fondling your other one. His skin has warmed up a notch and that's a progress. You need to clarify this to him again since the last time you did, you both ended up in  disarray and in the middle of the road.

"I...I've already told you everything."

"I don't wanna- I don't wanna lose you."

"Ben..." You cut off as your hopeless gazes meet like lightning, his irises  darkening at the manner in which your eyes have transfixed on his.

"Please..."

Worried that his stable condition might shift due to the rising agitation he's showing, you sit beside him and bring his knuckles up to your lips, hearing the beeping of the heart monitor quicken which sounds incredibly alarming, an indication that his heart rate has elevated due to his induced stress.

You press your lips into his pale knuckles with your eyes thoroughly shut hoping to soothe him through it, tears trickling from your cheeks and onto the back of his hand as you choke on your words. "Ben...come on. You know I can't stay, you have to understand that."

He slowly shakes his head, biting his bottom lip as he grimaces at the bitterness, softly but agonizingly begging for you to reconsider. "You have to. Please, love. I need you to. I want you to."

Do the short term effects include stubbornness? Cause he's really determined to get you to stay no matter what. Joe must be tortured with waiting by now and at any given moment, he's bound to consider barging in.

You kind of hope he would. God, you should be out there notifying his attending physician about his regained consciousness and for goodness sake, Rosy ought to be here for this. She can't just wander out whenever she likes when her fiance's an injured man struggling to recover.

While keeping his trembling knuckles close to your lips, you move closer and question him, your voice downsizing to an unsteady whisper. "Why? Ben, I'm leaving primarily to pursue a career. Not just because of some heartbreak, this is a dream come true. I'm finally a stair close to reaching it. Why aren't you at least happy for me?"

"I am..."

"Then you have to let me go."

"It's not that easy..."

"Do you think it's any more easier for me? No! But this is what must be and you have to trust me on this," it's as if your heart is in your mouth from feeling so harrowed by all of this, but you have to make him see that this is the only way and that it is also important that you leave, "I'm sorry if I said some things that night that weren't exactly the way I felt. But I have to leave. You're getting married to Rosy soon, you know. Don't worry about me..."

He wishes he could just sit up with ease and cage you in his arms but all his incapacities at the moment are inhibiting him from doing so. Knowing he can't do anything about it emotionally deflates him.

He withdraws his hand a little and presses it to your flushed cheek, kneading your delicate skin as he shakes his head gently to prevent the dressing around his head from becoming less taut.

"I think I know well enough who I want to marry now..."

You can't distinguish what present beating has accelerated; the heart monitor's, your own heart, or at best both. But you're sure as hell his words weren't a product of your own imagination, your eyes drifting from one of his orbs to the other in a daze, looking for any sign that would prove that it's not you he's directed it at but it does otherwise.

"What are you saying?"

The skin of the front of his neck moves along as he swallows dryly to assure you the realness of his words, his thumb traveling up your face to wipe  the moist corner of your eye. "I'm a bloody wanker for taking so long to see...that you're the one who has always kept me grounded, who has always made me feel more like myself. Even as far as making me feel like I don't need all this fame to lead a good life, " his breath shortens between each sentence and your jaw goes slack as he exploits the atmosphere to continue, eyes buried deep into yours as if the space in between doesn't even matter anymore.

"I'm an idiot...for not realising sooner that it's always been you."

"Ben-"

"I love you too, Y/N L/N, more than the way I used to. How could I ever be happy without you? We promised neither of us is going anywhere, right? "

Definitely not in the context of mere friendship. For a moment, you make it your quest to find your voice to react and you do.

"You can't. You can't- I mean, what about Rosy? Surely your feelings for her wouldn't just go away like that-"

"It's been doused for so long with the ones for you growing," he's thumb is now gingerly stroking circles on your cheek, the green in his eyes gleaming, "that dance at the after party put me in my place and I asked you if you were still coming to my wedding because...it was my way of telling you how I felt at that moment."

Despite the idea coming off a little incoherent, you immediately get the bottom line. It would've been like coming to your own wedding. You study his gaze confusingly before coming to believe that he actually does love you back in the way you always have.

The words have been built up from the moment he whipped out his share of the polaroid and reestablished his promise as the way he felt towards you took a dramatic turn.

Yet no matter how badly you want to stay and finally work some things out with him, he's engaged and you're leaving in 45 minutes.

And what of Rosy? Hopefully Ben wouldn't think of just fragmenting her like that.

Your deafening silence puts Ben under a heap of worry as he painfully anticipates for your reaction. You shake your head at the unlikelihood of your present situations, bringing your eyes shut as you respond in the only way you can without any words needed to express how sorry you are and how much you've waited for him to say it.

Against your better judgement, you lean your body towards him and catch him off guard with the most bittersweet, goodbye kiss anyone could ever exercise on a moment's notice.

You can tell his positive response with how rapid the heart monitor pulses are becoming and how his lips have begun moving passionately against yours.

His eyes flutter shut in return, tangling his fingers in your hair as he dares to deepen the kiss, eager to feel every inch of your lips as he knows that you still won't be staying after this.

Wait for me to come home...

You pull away catching your breaths as you rest your forehead on his, his hand stroking the back of your hair for the little time you have left in your hands.

This feels so wrong yet so right at the same time. Howbeit strong the desire to stay put, you break away before the spark between either of you becomes magnetizing enough to change your mind.

"Please tell me where you're going...please." He pleads yet you refuse to tell him where you're headed to avoid a fuss, shaking your head apologetically with the space between you both increasing.

"I'm so sorry." You whisper, retreating quickly to the door as you ignore his broken pleas and just in time to be welcomed by the doctor, Rosy and some nurses who are here to conduct another assessment. Your pulse picks up at the sight of an uneasy Rosy along with an extra glimpse of a tuft of red and a head of blonde hair overtopping from behind her, eager to check up on whatever is occurring.

Joe and Lucy.

You clear your throat as you utter quickly to the doctor, unable to set your gaze steady. "He's awake." Your update stirs them to hasten on their steps inwards and you don't bother to stop to give Rosy a glance as she brushes by you, with you feeling the slightest, if not an immense amount of guilt for kissing her fiance– your best friend, who now has to make a troubling choice in choosing between you and her. Most importantly, you wouldn't dare to contend with Rosy over this, you'd rather let it happen naturally and see where it would lead but that's the least of your priorities.

You've whizzed a meter past Joe and Lucy but freeze in your spot at Joe's frail call of your name, your shoulders relaxing after a brief pause. "Y/N...how did- how did it go?"

You remain static in your spot, just wanting to leave the building and basically see past everything.

"Let's just go."

Of course he and Lucy half expected your last conversation to be balanced on a scale of nonchalant to vehement but it went off the boundary of vehemence. With one more look at the closed door, the two catch up with you on your way out with a plan on revisiting Ben on their way back from the airport.

You lengthen the sleeve of your sweater and dab your eyes with it, striding towards the car and slipping into passenger's seat gracefully with the two trailing from behind. Once they climb in after you, they begin bombarding you with questions you'd expect them to drop but being so exhausted from all of drama just lessens your likelihood of elaborating your answers. With a few questions dismissed, you ask Joe to just step on it and he complies sadly.

Lucy gives you a sympathetic, lopsided smile and however stagnant your expression is at the moment, you return the favor as the car accelerates on the road ahead.

You bother to give the distancing hospital one last look; giving him one last look.

At the same time the doctors are asking Ben some questions and performing a few physical tests on him, you make it to the airport with some time to spare. Joe and Lucy accompany you into the waiting area agreeing to stick around just until your flight number is announced.

Propping your luggage bag against a vacant seat next to the ones Joe and Lucy are seated on, you dig through your pocket and pull your phone out to check if there are any calls you've slept on. So far nothing of the sort but a dozen texts from friends and acquaintances wishing you the best on your flight to Spain, though you still have to return to London to collect your essentials.

Their words coax a small smile on your lips and after pressing the button to your home screen, the wallpaper brings a small tear to your eye– you and Ben with your arms wrapped around each other beaming goofily at the shutter of the camera.

In this instance, you begin wondering why photos and pictures

have become such a recurring emblem in your friendship. Joe and Lucy notice the sadness spring out of your eyes and cloud your features as you gaze one last time at your phone, and they instantly figure out what you were looking at. Lucy gets up and turns you around softly by the shoulder, prompting you to talk it out to them prior to leaving. If it unloads the stresses you're under then you agree to it, telling them what went on inside the room not too long ago.

Upon mentioning the bit where Ben confessed to you and was insistent on not letting you leave, Joe breathes out a firm, "I knew it" and Lucy shakes her head incredulously at Ben's 'perfect' timing but overall they're both glad he's opened his eyes– in a metaphorical and physical sense– to the person who has always been worthy of that spot in his life. As your conversation comes to a close, the announcement of the boarding of your flight number limits your bittersweet goodbyes however you do promise that you'll call them as soon as you touchdown.

"You better do well out there! Don't forget to call us every once in a while. Or everyday, damn it!" Joe calls out after blowing multiple kisses to you, he and Lucy bidding you an effective farewell.  You wave back at them with a reassuring grin before disappearing into the crowd of bustling passengers, huffing sadly underneath your breath as you trail your finger smoothly across your bottom lip– where Ben had left his precious, goodbye mark for you. Something you ought to hold on to dearly for the moments you'll be missing out on.

Many months later

During your first day in the University of Barcelona, you could've sworn it was all but a dream and at any given moment you could've awakened; but it wasn't. It was right before your eyes and you were standing upon the solid concrete that held those opportunities. In the first days you were but a foreigner; merely wandering around the campus with your textbooks in hand making your journey to the lab and cafeteria a noble quest. Like your life depended on finding your way through every twist and turn on a day to day basis, asking fellow students where particular rooms were as you struggled to maintain good eye contact.

It was an everyday uphill battle for everyone.

However things have improved immensely in the following months, you have gained new friends in most of your classes, developed a good sense of direction around the campus and you've scored solid 90's in your classes which you thought would be bumpy the first time but attainable anyway through nights spent with ounces of coffee, extensive reading and episodes of academic agony.

Despite the pressures in your first year, you still keep in touch with your friends and family back home, especially with Joe and Lucy to whom you had once swore to always call. They're glad to know you've been at your peak in the past few months plus they wouldn't stop making a fuss about how much they miss you and long to have some sort of reunion once you decide to go back for a break. They've been well too– Joe's planning on producing a new movie although he's not certain with the details yet, Gwilym has talked to you as well and he's thriving with new projects which you were quick to congratulate him on and Lucy - oh, darling Lucy- apparently Rami had taken her out of the country again and popped the question out of nowhere just two months after you left.

Of course, when she told you the news the hot brew you had nearly swallowed came spewing out of your mouth in surprise thereby catching the attention of the people you were with at that time. But that was out of happiness too, she's invited you to her wedding –a few months after breaking to you the news of her engagement– which is to take place two weeks from now, something you're unfortunately unsure of attending since you are steadfast on getting heaps of classwork done.

But you promised to update her if ever you found an opening on that week to squeeze in a flight.

"Aren't you coming with us? They're waiting downstairs and it's our only night off this week. " Ava, your roommate and closest friend among the others, asks as she slips on her cardigan, ready to leave for a night out. You've got a book propped up in front of you and you were just getting immersed in the lines you've taken your eyes off of. "Er, it's kind of a cold night out. You girls have fun anyway."

"You sure?"

You nod, flipping your pen in your fingers. "Just bring me home a smoothie while you're at it."

"Get your butt off the chair and do it yourself!" She whines as she throws a nearby ball of cotton at you and you giggle lightheartedly, wishing her and the girls good luck as she heads out, shutting the door behind her.

You're just relieved they can communicate fluently with you or you never would've gotten around the city easily. Just as you begin turning your attention back to your book, you suddenly lose the interest to continue and just close it for the night, picking your phone up and tossing yourself on the bed with a small jounce as you land.

You shift on your spot as you check through your messages, emails, some posts from friends and whatnot to pass the hour, eventually noticing a message from an unknown number sent just earlier today. Curiosity peaks in you and you don't think twice before clicking on it to read.

You've changed your number weeks prior anyway so it could be from someone you know whose phone number you haven't asked for yet.

Hey, Y/N.

I know this is out of the blue but it's been a while since I've heard from you and in all honesty I didn't even bother to contact you the first time out of the assumption that you might have busied yourself a lot and don't have the time to check your phone. But I've become so worried then that I had to decide to ask you how you're doing. How you're holding up wherever you are. If you're not overworking yourself since you tend to do that a lot. I know it's been months since we've last talked to each other but I just miss you. I miss seeing you, having those late night conversations that got you late in the morning for work, hanging out and your voice. I kind of want to call you but you might be occupied and I don't wanna be a bit of a bother.

I miss you so much, love. Every single day. I'm trying to distract myself with the new project I've taken but you're just impossible to sleep on. When will you ever be back?

Why does the tone of the message seem familiar?

You reread along the last lines and your heart comes to a stop at one word that gives away the possible identity of the sender.

The lingering silence in the room making it possible for you to hear the elevated throbbing of your heart. It's been a while since he's slipped into your mind and even until now, the love you have for him is still flourishing wholly. Even when you had your mind set on your studies, your heart unknowingly had some other priorities.

So has he called things off with Rosy because if he hasn't yet, the tone of the message wouldn't come off as sincere as this.

That's a question you don't need answered for the meantime however you wonder how he was able to text you when you've pretty much changed your number.

You hope he's fully recovered from that head trauma though it's been nearly a year since that happened. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, thinking about replying.

Hey. Ben if this is you, it's great to hear from you again.

Your eyes dart to the send button, taking a brief pause before hitting it and discarding your phone to the side at least hoping he wouldn't respond immediately because then it would lead to a conversation that might just turn awkward.

Never have you had an awkward talk with him so it's something you wouldn't want to acquaint yourself with.

You grab your pillow and press your cheek against it in uncertainty.

"Don't even start...thinking about him." You mumble groggily into the pillow and lay flat on your back as you begin wallowing in your own doubt, your eyes becoming droopy at every second spent on staring at the pale ceiling with your right arm and leg thrown over the pillow like you're never gonna let it go.

You never even considered seeing someone else because deep down, you still hoped for him. Though you had exchanged some stares and 'interactive' words with a few guys in your classes, none of them ever came or would ever come close to Ben.

- - - - - - -

This week's lab work gave your brain a mild whiplash with all the hustling you were required to do.

Every morning, you either had breakfast or not and it all depended on how early you had to be there. Provided that you had to take off in the early hours, you had to skip a good  bite nearly every morning; plus you were all being assessed closely by your professor and so a downshifted movement was every bit as unacceptable.

At least now that you had just gotten off from your last period you can reward yourself with some good Mediterannean food that should be the ultimate dinner of your night.

You and Ava are seated around a table laughing and enjoying each other's companies with your plates and glasses half-filled with leftovers after a quick chow down, but your attention is quickly divided as a text from Lucy surfaces. She's asked you about your availability next week and you ought to re-check your schedule for it. Once again upon pressing your home screen button you can't help but let a longing smile take form on your lips at your wallpaper and with you being oblivious to Ava noticing, to your demise, she takes a sly peek at what you're looking at and disrupt your train of thought.

"Who's that?" Ava asks with a cheeky grin to which you quickly recoil with your phone held loosely in your hand.

"Nothi- no-one. "

As nosy as she is tenacious, she swiftly

snatches your phone from your weak grip and dares to unlock it, the  wallpaper of you and Ben making her swoon in delight. "Y/N, how on Earth did you get Ben Hardy to hold you for a photo like this?" Squealing like a schoolgirl, Ava grills you with an inquisitive look. You've never bothered to tell her or any of your new found friends anything about your friendship with him and so now she thinks you're a fan who merely got luck in her favour for a picture.

If only she knew.

"I don't know? How'd you know it's him?" You speak up your mind, a fleeting blush crawling its way to your face.

" Bohemian Rhapsody was a hit, of course. Queen rocks and I was all for it," she gesticulates as a matter of fact and winks playfully, "and later on we were all for the cutie who played Roger Taylor."

You try your very best not to let a single squeak of laughter escape your lips as she begins drooling over him. What are the chances of her finding out, right? You would tell her about it and have her meet him however your situation is too dire to act in. Come to think of it, you haven't received a reply to your reply to his message. He could be juggling a lot in his hands at the moment, perhaps.

"Cutie. Yeah, he's cute. But the guy seems clumsy enough to drop your heart." Here you are throwing a sportive shade all the way from Barcelona.

As if she's taken a fake offense at your comment, Ava overdoes a gasp. "Is that how you say thanks?"

You respond with a one-shoulder shrug, your voice neutral to keep yourself from giving away the screams of your heart. "I'm just saying. What are we doing next week by the way?"

"As I've been told by Mr. Gomez, the school will be hosting an array of meetings with the BOD and so we're given a time off."

You blink thrice at her. "Seriously? Like a week?"

She forks a tapa from her plate and bites down on it, nodding at you. "Three days max." So you don't have the entire week off, but that's great. Given that you had told Lucy you'd update her about your availability during that time and now that you have a few days to spare, you're conditioned to go. You quickly get up from your chair and excuse yourself from Ava, making your way to the terrace to dial Lucy who you hope is reachable at the meantime.

"Hello?"

"Lucy, hey!"

"Y/N, thank goodness you called!"

"About my weekly update?" You bite down on your lip in excitement, swinging your leg back and forth aimlessly.

"What about it?"

"I'm free next week."

- - - - - - -

"And cut! Okay everyone, lunch break. We're not cleaning up the rubble yet so we'll leave it there for the next scene." At the sound of the clapperboard slamming, all stunts have been ceased until the next roll and the main actors retreat individually to their own trailers, one of which is Ben who is walking back within beads of sweat dripping from his forehead as a result of a car stunt he had to perform on set. He's glad he can finally swing his left arm with unbridled ease after disposing of the sling just two months back although he's left with a few scars; the primary one on his forehead from the trauma he had.

A PA hands him a bottle of water and he thanks her for the save, cracking the lid off and chugging away. He waves at his fellow co-stars before entering his trailer and slipping out of his sweaty shirt, dumping it on the edge of the bed.

He places the bottle on a coffee table and swipes his phone from his drawer, being welcomed by a heap ton of messages, one days older than the next. He scratches his head at the result of his constant business; not being able to find time to reply thereby impregnating his inbox with miscellaneous messages.

Three from Lucy which he is 'obligated' to check first and foremost. Ben's lips twitch to an uneven smirk as he reads her messages, amused that he's been invited to her wedding, along with other people.

He replies with a simple yet sincere, "Thanks, I'll mark it on my calendar" before proceeding to put his phone down on the bed. He sighs, taking out his wallet from his drawer and opening it to pick out something, the dual polaroid he's folded in catching his eye and all of his attention; and for a moment, his heart stops.

He pulls it out from its slot and unfolds it, the tape used to stick it together  crinkled but still an effective adhesive. Without taking his eyes off of the polaroids, he plops down on the edge of the bed and wipes his forehead, hiding the ridiculous smile he now has on his face behind his hand. The memory still does things to him apparently and he has never let go since the day you kissed him goodbye. He can still feel the touch of your lips linger on his and admittedly, he traces his finger across the spot every time you cross his mind. The things you had said to him while he was unconscious ultimately stuck in his mind and he just longs to hear your voice once more. There are multiple times he forgets that you're not around to vent to or watch a good game of rugby with or do whatever you used to do together, no matter the trouble.

Generally speaking, he just yearns to be with you.

On a side note, he had long called things off with Rosy, exactly a day after he had awakened. Of course, she didn't take it easy but he knew damn well who he loved.

A heavy sigh leaves Ben's lips as he lowers his head at the frustration he feels for never owning up to his feelings.

She probably has some other guy in her life now. What are my chances? He thinks dryly to himself. "Hey, Ben? Break is over." The assistant director knocks on his trailer door and he tells him that he'll be out in a few. Tucking the polaroids back into his wallet, he snags the fresh shirt that's been laid out on the sofa across him and pulls it on, combing his blond hair back with his fingers before heading out to get the day done without realizing that he has skipped your reply.

With the days leading up to Rami and Lucy's wedding, they have never been more busier about any other event in their entire lives. They've decided on a beach wedding and to hold the reception there as well. Lucy has made you one of her bridesmaids yet you declined at first because that would mean you would have to fly in early for a practice down the aisle but she's assured you that practice wouldn't be necessary. She has taken care of the dresses and such and all you need to do is just fly down to California, again, to attend. Speaking of dresses, you bought her a little wedding gift yourself. It's something small but it's bound to suit her look.

You've told Ava about the wedding– excluding essential details like whose wedding it is specifically– and she's a little disheartened that you wouldn't be around to hang out with for the week but you've reassured her that you won't be long; considering you'll also be reviewing for upcoming tests.

"Okay, so it's a beach wedding? Drastic times call for some drastic measures, chica!" She exclaims and throw her arms up in the air, springing out of her bed and rummaging through her wardrobe as you throw what you can into one, just one luggage bag.

She pulls out a black two-piece bikini from the drawers and upon beholding it, you feel your eyes burn to a crisp. "There won't be any swimming, as far as I'm concerned."

"You'll never know. Just toss this in, it might come in handy." You swear you saw a mischievous glint in her eye as she said that. You press your lips into a tentative, hard line before surrendering,  grabbing the pair from her and stuffing it in the unreachable depths of your luggage.

"Happy?" She nods vigorously and you sigh in defeat, zipping your bag close.

The day came and the jet lag is still real. You've flown in a day prior,  exactly the day of Lucy's bridal shower and well, a literal bone crushing hug welcomed you on your way into the arrival area. She looked really fresh and bloomy before you arrived but afterwards, it was a messy head of hair and a waste of makeup, not to give it a stretch but it was. She's shed a few tears from how long you've been gone and you couldn't help but shed a few yourself, awfully missing her and the rest.

She's prepped a hotel for all her bridesmaids to stay in and you had some thoughts on how much she's spent but it's her wedding so who are you to question? As she helps you settle in your room, she pauses and brings you in for another big hug.

"Aww, Luce." You chuckle over her shoulder, rubbing her back.

She snaps her eyes shut and hums. "Oh Y/N, I've missed you. We all have. I know we call a lot even from a distance but it's been so long since we've last seen each other."

You sigh heavily, still holding her close.

"LAX. Yeah. It's only been a year but it feels like forever," you pull away deliberately, hands still firm on her shoulders with a heartfelt gaze, "Congratulations, Luce. You and Rami better make wonderful babies."

She smacks your arm lightly as an appropriate response to your little tease. "Shut it. Tell me everything."

"Everything?"

"Yeah," she planks down on the edge of the duvet and crosses her legs, leaning her body forward, "how's Spain? How's the school? The agony? Been seeing someone?" The last bit catches you by surprise; as if she's emphasized the question enough for it to be the main thing you have to answer. You disregard it for a few seconds until she brings it up again. You turn to give her an incredulous brow lift, something she returns with a curious grin. "Are you seeing anyone?"

In your mind, she should know that you've only ever had one guy in your heart but knowing Lucy, she just wants to hear you say it yourself .

You huff underneath your breath, planting your hands on your hips as you perpend on saying the following. "Spain is amazing. School is both heaven and hell. The agony exists in every divot, and no, I'm not seeing anyone."

"That's good."

You glance sideways awkwardly. "Okay? Is what good?"

"Everything, except the agony part, especially the last."

"I'm not seeing anyone?" You repeat and she nods with a blossoming smile. You don't say anything else since it's obvious that she's keen on letting you talk about Ben but today's not the day that you do. It's the day before her wedding and every present air particle should be all about her.

"Regardless, Miss Boynton. This week is all about you so," you alter your stance and skip to your luggage bag, unzipping one compartment and pulling out your wedding gift for her, "it's not much but I figured this looks better if it's on you." You hand her the palm-sized object and she lets out a little gasp at what you got her. It's a hair comb adorned with two, white roses and pale rhinestones that glimmer under the spilling light.

Something that would upgrade her sun-kissed beauty on a clear day. You try it on her and step back to picture her with the full ensemble as she walks down the sandy aisle tomorrow. "Good lord, look at you all grown up." You pretend to tear up and she tilts her head back in a burst of laughter, walking to you with welcoming arms and green eyes that are nearly brimming with tears.

"Oh I love it, Y/N! I knew something was missing in the outfit but you've completed it. It's perfect." She mumbles happily against your shoulder and her contentment tickles your insides.

"I'm glad you like it."

After giving you a look of what you'll be wearing tomorrow and a few, friendly  introductions to the rest of the bridesmaids, the bridal shower is where everything is at. Ranging from colorful streamers to champagne to cake strippers, the latter putting you under uneasy situations when you just wished to enjoy your drink and your own space. At the same hour you're enjoying yourselves, on the other side of town is where Rami and the boys are on full swing with his bachelor's party. It has the same vibe, only without the strippers and streamers and constant belly-aching movement.

You just pray none of you will be waking up with hangovers at the hour you'll be fixing yourselves.

And indeed none of you have.

You've all waken up like ladies but clumsily as the realization of the time nudges you out of your beds. Ceremony starts at 9 and you're 5 hours early to ensure that everything progresses smoothly.

It's a condensed hustle within your separate rooms; the pattern of getting ready ever so similar. Shower, makeup, hair, dress, and retouch; all done in complete unison. With all the bridesmaids, including yourself, conditioned outfit-wise, you all gather in Lucy's room to assist in psyching her up for the big day. Her mom's in too to witness every precious second of seeing her daughter fly off on her own.

She's still in her robe but her hair and makeup have been beautifully done by one of her makeup artist friends. She's about to step into her gown, a sight the girls are just dying to see.

"Alright, Lucy. Let me just zip up the back." Says one of the girls who has helped with her makeup as Lucy stands confidently but nervously in front of the mirror, scanning her reflection. You fold your hands together in anticipation, gasping as she turns around slowly with the skirt of the gown gracefully following her turning motion. Her radiance could put the sun's to complete shame.

"Well, say something, girls." She prompts with a chuckle and as expected, it is followed by the uproarious squeal of everyone in the room including yourself. Rami is guaranteed to have his gaze super-glued to Lucy the moment she reveals herself. After having a dozen compliments shower her, you and the rest of the girls retreat outside to give her and her mother a time to talk. As you lean against the door frame, you fish out your phone from your purse and check your messages; coming across your reply to Ben which hasn't received another one from him yet.

You wipe off the downhearted smirk on your expression as the girls' murmurs increase as Lucy steps out holding a bouquet of flowers with her mom on her arm and the edge of her gown lifted by two assistants. She turns her head to find you and crooks her finger at you upon seeing you inclined against the frame, letting you walk by her side.

You notice she's sporting the gift you've given her and the sentimentality makes you want to tear up but in doing so would ruin your makeup and so you decide to save it for the kiss.

You lean in close to her and whisper in a flat but playful tone, your words making her giggle. "Rami's totally getting it."

"I'm not the only one who's getting it today." She winks at you and leaves you questioning what she meant. She made it sound like it's something you have to find out for yourself later on. The weather is fine and not as humid as you thought; the ideal atmosphere to marry under. The bridesmaids are to ride in a separate vehicle that will follow up behind the one Lucy and her mom will be taking. To say that your ride with the the girls to the resort turned out fun and noisy is an understatement; you couldn't be any more conscious about smudging your makeup as you busted your guts laughing at your topics. The driver had given you weirded out looks but you know he was just trying to feign a laugh. By the time you arrive at the resort, a gust of wind from the seaside welcomes you out and nearly messes up your hair though you've put it up in an elegant bun with your tendrils hanging loosely from the sides of your head. You traverse closely behind the rest of the girls and find the venue nearly packed with attendees in their most sophisticated dresses and suits. The altar is set meters away from the shoreline and a red carpet has been rolled out to serve as the aisle between lines of pillars decorated with tropical flowers. A gentle music piece is being played by a violinist and a cellist situated on the left side of the altar with waiters serving some four-seasoned refreshments for the guests to enjoy as they wait.

With all these people around, you can't help but wonder if either Joe or Gwilym made it. You haven't contacted Joe about arriving, given that you wanted to surprise him with your arrival. You peer down at your wristwatch and it's only an hour before the ceremony starts. Rami's nowhere to be seen and you badly want to congratulate him on this, but either way, he's probably attending to some other people and so you put that chance on hold.

As you had wished for yourself to be void of any mishaps today, you bumping into a tall figure as you turn around to walk away deters that possibility and mortifies you for a moment.

"Oh man, I'm so sorry-" You quickly apologize but cease as a familiar face meets your lifting gaze.

"What- Y/N?!"

"J-Joe?!"

"Y/N!"

"Joe!" After shamelessly screaming each other's names, you put no thought into the action of jumping into his arms for a tight hug. He's crushing you in one anyway. "Oh my g- what- when did you arrive, you little sneak? " He exclaims and lets you go for a split second, careful not to ruin your satin outfit. "You're going to murder me for this but yesterday."

His brows furrow in disbelief as his mouth hangs agape. "How dare you not tell me? I mean, I knew Lucy would invite you but...actually how dare you both for not telling me." He whines in a joking manner and you respond with a quick shrug. "Surprise, surprise."

"You sure did and wow," his eyes travel up and down your outfit and you click your tongue at him as he does, pointing your finger to your eyes that are aimlessly roving around his suit in the same manner. "Hey Mazzello, eyes here."

"Hypocrite, eyes here." He mimics your action mockingly and you take eye-rolling to the next level.

"Damn it Joe, I've missed you."

"Missed you too. Been a year but it feels like a decade and you look beautiful, by the way, in that outfit as a bridesmaid." He places his hand on your upper back and leads you into the lounging area that is close to the pool but not far from the event area.

"You don't look so bad yourself for a groomsman. "

"How'd you guess?"

"This is Rami's wedding. I'd know."

You got an hour to talk before you take your positions anyway so catching up would be vital. You settle down on the sofa and fit your talk into the time limit, telling each other about what went on in your lives for the past few months. A lot of interesting stuff has happened to Joe and he's absolutely lively as he talks about it however yours hasn't been much, just adaptation to a new environment and the academic agony. Your talk takes an interesting turn as Joe asks you a question related to something you haven't thought about for a few days.

"Since you're pretty much still on the market, you ever think about...you know."

Your brows crease at him. "What?"

"You know," he lifts his shoulder in a half shrug, "Ben."

"Oh." Is the only thing you can say. The answer is pretty clear, you do think about him but not on a daily basis. He comes across your mind when you've drifted off into oblivion with your thoughts or when something that may remind you of him catches your eye.

"Sometimes I guess. But not as deep as I used to."

"I know you miss him, Y/N, and he misses you too. Believe me, he tells me everytime he calls."

You cast him a short gaze but look back at your fingers, a little comforted by the thought and it motivates you to ask. "Is he still with Rosy?"

Joe scoffs, mildly amused and wholly relieved at the contrary. "That's the good news. He's broken things off with her long ago. Just a day after he regained consciousness."

"Really?" You won't admit it but part of you feels bad for her.

"Yeah and I'm not spoiling you the rest," he rises from his spot on the sofa and reaches out for your hand, pulling you up gracefully. "The thing's about to start." He gestures to the chairs that are beginning to get occupied by the people as the priest arrives. You walk back out alongside him, leaning in to ask out of curiosity. "What do you mean you won't spoil me the rest?"

"You'll see, now go skedaddle to Lucy. She needs her crew." He pats your shoulder with a crooked smile on and you sigh inwardly, waving at him as you divert paths; with you headed to where the rest of the bridesmaids and the bride herself are gathered.

"Gwilym! You're just on time." Spotting Gwilym making his way to join Sami – Rami's brother– at the front row of chairs on the right wing as one of the groomsmen, Joe greets him with a brief hug and takes his place next to him. Sami greets the two men as well, exchanging some remarks before being joined by Ben who had been caught in traffic on his way. "Benny!"

"Ben!"

"Hey, you guys! Am I late? Did I miss the vows?" He asks with a hint of irony as he takes the spot between Gwil and Joe, shaking hands with Sami at the same time. Not a minute longer they are joined by the remaining groomsmen and Rami who has finally garnered up the physical strength to stand on the altar without breaking a sweat.

"You got this, mate. Just don't look down. Your boutonniere looks nice if I might add." Gwilym simultaneously advises and compliments an already nervous Rami hoping to appease him yet earns a quick yet teasing smack from Joe for making a small joke out of the situation. To show them that he's actually better on every possible level, Rami stands tall and rests his hands on his front to exude that confidence and excitement of being minutes away from watching his soon-to-be Mrs. Malek grace the aisle with her presence.

The guests simmer down with their chatters as the first ones who will be walking down the aisle take their positions. The musicians stop playing as they wait for the cue to initiate the main piece in accordance with the first walk.

Among the ones that will be walking before Lucy's big entrance is you and though you'll be joined by your fellow bridesmaids, it somehow just quakes your nerves, tightening your grip around the small bouquet of flowers you've been given as a prop.

You can't understand why you're feeling nervous; you're not the one that's getting married but you just don't know why. The musicians are given the cue and they begin playing a familiar song, something contemporary but heart-achingly romantic.

"You okay?" Asks a fellow bridesmaid and you nod, telling her that you're a bit anxious. She reassures you with a smile and it unknots your tension. The guests and attendees turn their heads towards the threshold of the aisle and the sponsors begin walking down first. Next are some of their relatives, then you– the bridesmaids. There are at least seven of you and you come in fifth. As you begin sauntering down the aisle, you feel relaxed yet piercing eyes trail your movement yet you beg to differ and keep your head up with a mellow smile on your face as you keep your eyes ahead, your unsteady gaze fleeting from the altar and to the groomsmen seated at the front row of the right wing.

Your eyes land on Joe and Gwilym who start giving you bright beams as they notice you in an instant. If you weren't trying to walk sophisticatedly with all these people staring, you would let out the loudest, most awkward giggle. It's nice to see Gwilym again though. Just as you begin turning your unwavering attention away, you take a subtle double take at a certain pair of eyes that has found you long before you found them. You are meters away from reaching your end of the aisle and yet it seems as if you've only started walking with how the music has turned up and how you're exchanging astonished yet longing gapes with Ben who knows he is seconds away from exploding with who he's finally seeing. You're here as a bridesmaid for Lucy and yet ridiculously, you feel like the bride.

Of course he's here. Of course he's one of the groomsmen. Of course Lucy and Joe wouldn't tell you. Of course this is the thing Joe didn't want to spoil about. Why didn't you think about any of this earlier? It would've saved you the shock regardless of it being so obvious.

You gather the strength to break away from the trance you've put yourself in and stand next to the girls, using up all the willpower in your body to avoid risking a peek at the groomsmen– at one groomsman rather. It's the same struggle for Ben who is every bit as stubborn as the next person and does the contrary, going as far as tilting his head to one side just to cop a longer view of you, an action Joe notices and slaps his hand for. Ben winces a bit and gives Joe a questioning look for two reasons.

"Save it." Joe whispers flatly and yet Ben dismisses it and feels his breath hitch in his throat as the sight of you appeases his worries yet makes his heart run a mile. With the ring bearers and flower girls at the edge of their walk, everyone rises up at the reveal of Lucy. The music slows down to fit the pace of her walk with her mother by her side, her eyes finding Rami's and establishing a home in them. You glance at both of them and feel your heart inflate at how strong their love for each other is, something that usually only exists in novels and fiction. Lucy's eyes well with joyful tears as she reaches the altar and her mother finally surrenders her hand to Rami.

It's too much.

With you being too distracted by the spark between Rami and Lucy, you overlook Ben's unbreakable gaze at you. The moment you grew a smile, it invalidated everything else surrounding him.

The priest requests everyone to finally sit down and witness the lifetime commitment blossom. Throughout the ceremony, you can't help but feel his eyes sear through you yet you stand your ground and fix your gaze at the happenings on the altar, briefly failing every once in a while by finding yourself looking back at him. The moment has come for them to exchange their vows and you listen intently at every word sincerely uttered by the two. There are parts in their vows that make the people giggle and tear up at the emotion put into every word expressed. It seems surreal to you that the moment Rami tells Lucy that he's never going anywhere, your gaze meets Ben's and it becomes undeniably bewitching, Rami's words acting as a call back to your promises. As the rings are exchanged and the "I do's" are said, the priest pronounces them husband and wife and you tear your focus away from Ben just in time for Rami and Lucy to share their first kiss as a married couple. Cheers and applauds fill the air and even more tears of joy are shed at the start of their lifetime bond. They both couldn't look any more blissful, with the pair of them giddily flaunting their rings with grins so radiant and bright it undermines the power of the sun upon them.

The cheers and excitement continue at the reception which, of course, is hosted at the very same place. After the ceremony– you, the girls and Lucy took off to the rooms you've booked in the resort for the meantime to change into the appropriate apparel to match the vibe of the venue and even the venue itself. Rami and the boys drove back to their respective hotels to change as well and it was a bit hard for the newly weds to go their separate ways for a few hours just to change clothes. Now that you've all rejoined for the reception, lively doesn't even begin to cut it. It's just like any other wedding reception and like any other wedding reception, it's upbeat, smooth and a little haywire on the egdes. After going through with dinner and a couple of toasts and remarks about the funny side of Rami and Lucy's relationship, the dance floor is open for business. At first glance, the girls take you for someone who is in need of a lot acquainting with the dance floor and they're right; because of that they haul you in themselves and you end up enjoying moving around to the music. You decide to refreshen yourself with a glass of iced tea before returning to your fun. One gulp is all takes to replenish the energy lost and you turn around to head back but freeze in your spot at the sight of Joe with his hand out, asking you for a dance.

"Seriously?" You're not surprised but your brows shoot up in question.

"It's my way of saying 'I need to talk to you'. "

"We can do that outside." You gesture to the vacant space yet Joe insists that he dances with you as you talk. You purse your lips together, letting him take your hand and he pulls you along with him almost too abruptly, eliciting a ticklish squeal from you.

"Don't do that!" You whine as you both settle among the multitude of dancing people. He lowers his head in laughter and twirls you under his arm, drawing you close afterwards. You rest one hand on his shoulder as he holds up the other. "Where's the fun in talking outside now, huh?"

"Alright," you grin ridiculously, spotting Rami and Lucy in each other's arms as they slow dance near the mini stage, looking and feeling at one with the other. "Hey, doesn't it just warm you?" You poke Joe and gesture to the  newlyweds. He peers over at them and hums in a heartwarming way. "Yeah. Man, it's like they're communicating with each other merely through their close-knit heartbeats."

"Speaking of communication," you clear your throat and give him a direct look, " what did you want to talk about?"

He snaps out from gauging at the two and leads you on a gentle sway as he swallows, increasing the volume of his voice just loud enough to cut through the music and for you to hear. "Right. About the thing during the ceremony," you immediately catch on to what he's trying to say and interrupt his next words.

"Okay, thanks for implying, but are you kidding me? Giving me stroke by hiding Ben's attendance?"

"It was for dramatic effect," your eyes flatten puzzlingly at his defense. "What was so dramatic in that besides the awkward... staring?" You know the truth and it really wasn't awkward; in fact it felt like time dilated between you both.

Joe ping-pongs his gaze from one end of the place to the other and back to you. "You paused after 'awkward'. You liked it." The smile on his face teasing you. He's really that sensitive to the nuance of your voice, making it easier for him to figure out how you actually feel about anything.

You evade his prying look and clear your throat, trying to keep up with the transition of the rhythmic music to a slow tune. "So what if I did?" You mumble intentionally.

"Nothing bad. Just Ben wouldn't stop fidgeting in his spot after seeing you. He was this," he makes small jerky movements with his upper body as to imitate Ben's inability to keep still during the ceremony, "antsy and I was this close to losing it."

You snort as you let an explosive laugh overcome you, recollecting yourself shortly as you are flattered by Joe's report. "I felt the same. It took every cell in my body to prevent myself from launching at him honestly."

"I'm glad we sat in separate tables or else neither of you would function like regular...human beings." The grin on Joe's face fades in the same manner as his last words, staring off at a figure approaching from behind you. He regains his voice in a matter of seconds, only with a sly twinkle in his eyes this time.

"You okay?" You ask him, slowly removing your hand from his chest and he nods vigorously, taking position to whirl you off but with a sneaky twist.

"I'm fine. Just... Gwilym wants to dance with you and he's right behind you so I'm going to spin you off to him, sound good?" He lifts your arm up and you shrug in agreement, going with what Joe's planning to do.

"Ally oop!" He twirls you around and releases your hand just in time for you to cling onto a firm frame, giggling at the rush you felt. "Hey Gwil! Good catch, that was a strong spin-" You take a hard pause the second you lift your eyes up with the expectation of meeting Gwilym's sapphire blues, greeting a pair of forest, green orbs instead and it becomes more than what you've bargained for. His veiny arms have caught you with ease and you're sinking, both literally and metaphorically, your arms awkwardly thrown over his shoulders for support.

He helps you regain your balance and smiles the smile you had craved to behold again, breathing out your name like he hasn't said it in a long time. "Y/N, hi."

You find your voice just in time to reply. "Ben...h-hi." He's looking quite good in an all white attire. His white dress shirt is tucked in and has three buttons undone, exposing a lot of his clavicle and a preview of his pecs and the way his white pants just hangs loosely around his legs– you've lost the proper words to describe the sight.

Joe, you crafty asshole.

[fangirlinglikeabus]

i read some non vna dw books a while ago but because i am a Clown i’ve only just finished typing up notes on them...i think my next dw book i’ll make notes as i go rather than just marking the pages and Hoping I Remember. anyway! here’s my thoughts on thirteen doctors 13 stories. i have more opinions on some than others. 

A BIG HAND FOR THE DOCTOR

"...Susan, who was possibly the only person in the universe who could make the Doctor smile at the mere thought of her."

awwwwww

didn't really like this one that much - i wasn't too impressed with eoin colfer's characterisation of the first doctor (esp since pre-ian and barbara i don’t think he’d willingly attempt to stop some villains until susan was in danger)

THE NAMELESS CITY

Polly...once described him as looking like an unmade bed.

lmao

...he didn't know exactly what he was, though when he was growing up, he had heard tales of the legendary fairy creatures of the Unseelie Court who haunted Scotland's deepest valleys. He suspected the Doctor might be one of the dark Sith.

HEAVILY vibe with this concept the world is saved by bagpipes.......peak dw THE SPEAR OF DESTINY

"You know what I love about London?" he said, turning to her briefly. She sighed. "I'm sure I can't guess." "It's the only city in the universe where you can drive around in a car that's seventy years old and get away with it." "Who says you're getting away with it?" Jo muttered. 

nkdfsjksn

"Fire away!"

"Oh, Doctor, please. Not after that business at the museum."

no doctor is immune to the temptation of a good pun. no matter how inappropriate. actually i really like how jo and three are written in this generally. there's so many good scenes. also, when the doctor asks her why she doesn't know anything about the vikings: "Doctor, we did the Romans. Every year." rip jo

From a distance the Doctor watched as a group of about twenty men loaded the TARDIS on to the back of a large low wagon pulled by four sturdy oxen.

jo: the doctor told me about the perception filter on the tardis so it'll be fine! they won't even spot it. literally the next scene, immediately:

She longed to stand and give this old goat a piece of her mind, but she knew she'd most likely fall over if she tried, which wasn't the effect she was after.

aw jo :(

"Do you know they wash once a week?" "Could have fooled me," muttered Jo.

*desperately resists the urge to write down every jo line in this story*

"I have the ship. And I have the spear. What need have I of you any more?"

the master is betrayed. to the surprise of no-one but himself.

The Doctor held her by the shoulders. "My dear girl," he said. "That is very noble of you. You were right. Your aspirations /are/ the very noblest. But you're wrong about something. Nothing is more important than you."

me, sobbing:

ROOTS OF EVIL

realised as i was reading this that i don't own any books featuring leela.....a crime

"Surprise!" the Doctor said. "You know you were complaining that you missed trees?"

this is actually the cutest thing no-one look at me

She could never understand why the Doctor was so careless of danger. It was a good thing he had her to look after him, she thought, as he opened the TARDIS door and they stepped out together into dim, green light and the earthy, warm-compost smell inside the great tree.

phillip reeve gets the four+leela dynamic. like. he Gets it. 

"It will not hurt you," she promised. "It is called a 'scarf'. It is like a cloak, only pointless."

ousdofnsoksfd

"Did it look a bit like a gravel pit? You'd be amazed how many alien worlds look just like gravel pits..."

what is doctor who. without quarry jokes.

"I mean, he's wearing a bow tie!" the Doctor explained patiently. "Ridiculous objects! I wouldn't be seen dead in a bow tie!"

1) says the guy who wears an obnoxiously long scarf everywhere 2) honey, you've got a big storm coming

TIP OF THE TONGUE

there's a scene in this where nyssa and the doctor chill at a diner and they drink chocolate milkshakes together. this is all i care about.

Good Lord, was that celery he was wearing on his lapel?

Yeah We Know

"Are you British?" Nettie said, as if this was the most surprising part of the whole thing.

i mean, fair

He paused. "I don't suppose either of you would be interested in travelling?"

the fifth doctor: hey one of my friends died recently and i abandoned the other one but i really miss having a large crew so i was wondering if you two literal children would like to risk your life travelling with me :)

SOMETHING BORROWED

you'd think given this one is from peri's pov she'd be slightly more central to the plot. ah well.

"That's two storeys up!" I exclaimed. "And I'm in heels." "Well then, you should have worn more sensible shoes, shouldn't you?"

maybe she lives in hope that she won't have to do any running/scale buildings every time she steps out of the tardis. i get that. 

"Well, you are the expert when it comes to gaudy," I said, giving a meaningful look to his red-and-yellow plaid coat and green tie.

every six story is legally obligated to drag his coat

The Doctor shook the man's hand vigorously. "Yes, yes. A little different round the edges since our last meeting on Kiri 4, but all the charm and intellect are still here."

i love this bastard.......

"Love? That contrived, chemically driven state of idiocy?"

mood

A clatter of metal was the sole warning I had before a hole in the ceiling suddenly opened, and the Doctor came tumbling down to the floor, landing in an ungraceful heap of rainbow plaid. Nonetheless, he rose to his feet with all the dignity of an Olympic gymnast who'd just landed a perfect somersault.

not to sound like a broken record but i would Die for this idiot

withholding myself from using more quotes to illustrate my unbridled love for the sixth doctor whom..........

"You might regret not helping me with this one day," she  [the Rani] called over to us. "Your next regeneration may be sooner than you think."

Huh. I Wonder What That's Referring To

RIPPLE EFFECT

From the look on his face, Ace reckoned that a visit to the Time Lords was something similar to her having to visit the dentist back on Earth.

i mean to be fair.....the time lords are a whole lot worse although in this case the doctor's reasons for not wanting to visit are: (i) they're 'old, boring and judgemental' (ii) they have stupid clothes and a stupid non-intervention policy (iii) they treat him 'like a naughty schoolboy' (can't have that in front of your companion!)

i apparently didn't have many comments to make on this one. um...it was good. i liked the idea of an alternate universe with nice daleks. MOVING ON

SPORE

"They're all dead....everyone's dead, flesh turned to liquid. It moves...There are things! Moving things! They're alive..." Major Platt looked up at the Doctor. "The caller became incoherent after that and disconnected shortly after." The Doctor drummed his fingers thoughtfully against the top of the aluminium folding-table between them. "Hmm...That really doesn't sound very good."

YEAH YA THINK?

"I was at the opera," the Doctor explained, "when my phone went off."

this is his excuse for That outfit. really just copying everything from grace here huh

THE BEAST OF BABYLON

She also didn't yet know that he wasn't a man at all.

yeah cos he's non-binary duh

"So now we're landing on Earth," he shouted, "two thousand years before the birth of Christ..." "Who?" "He was a bit like Sherlock Holmes. Knew the answers to everything. Very good at solving mysteries. Some humans use him to measure time."

obsessed with the implications of this dialogue...

THE MYSTERY OF THE HAUNTED COTTAGE

absolutely love the concept of this one...a world created from martha's memories of reading a famous five expy as a child

"What?" Martha said defensively, keeping her voice down. "That's how he was described in the books. Don't blame me. This was 1951. Everything back then was blinkered, sexist, and ever-so-slightly racist. It was a backward time." "Ah, yes," said the Doctor, "because 2007 has none of those things."

vibe with this convo

"Am I lonely?" Martha asked. "You're a particle of dust," the Doctor said. "Of course you're not lonely." "I sound lonely." "Well you're not; you're having a great time."

this conversation where the doctor tells martha to imagine herself as a particle of dust has exactly the same kind of energy as discussions you have at 3am at a sleepover

NOTHING O'CLOCK

Amy looked irritated. She wasn't irritated, but she liked to give him the impression she was, just to show him who was boss.

yeah...

ok the villains in this one are actually really fucked up like. it's been a While since i read it now because i procrastinated on making these notes but they were Good creepy. thank you mr gaiman. 

LIGHTS OUT

now THIS is one where the pov heavily contributes to the story...

He turns to look at me with piercing, hollow-set grey eyes, then furrows his impressive silvery brows. "I'm buying a coffee," he says. "For a girl."

so THAT'S why twelve took so long to find coffee for clara......he wasn't buying it on earth. good vibes

TIME LAPSE

i absolutely LOVE the concept for this one, which is that the year 2004 completely disappears from records

A typed envelope reading The Doctor, The TARDIS, Ex-Gallifrey followed by a long string of numbers, letters, and things that probably were letters but looked like they came from about eight different languages.

obsessed with the fact that (i) you can apparently send letters to the tardis, like it has an actual address (mel throwing a message in a bottle into space doesn't seem so unreasonable now huh...) (ii) part of this address is 'ex-gallifrey'

this dude gets rejected. and is so badly embarrassed that he erases 2004 from existence. i promise i'm not making this up.

[baepsaets]

eight’s a crowd pt. 3 ~ bts

pairing: ot7 x reader

rating: nsfw because bangtan can’t stop talking about sex lmao

word count: 5.4k

summary: you’re a bighit staff member in charge of stage set-up when you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the very seven men you’re setting stage for. soulmate au!

a/n: i can’t even begin to say how grateful i am for y’alls patience and understanding! it’s been a long time coming but here’s pt. 3. there will definitely be a pt. 4, which i’ll hopefully have quicker than i had this chapter, lmao. happy reading!

part 01 02 03 04 05

“(Y/N). (Y/N). (Y/N)? (Y/N)!”

You startled and jerked your head. Jae stood next to you, and he dramatically waved his hand in front of your face. “Earth to (Y/N).”

“I’m busy, Jae,” you said, focusing on your task. You could feel your bad mood festering underneath your skin. You didn’t want to talk, but Jae had already acknowledged you and no amount of shoulder shrugging was going to make him leave.

“Oh, you’re busy,” he replied. “I guess you’ve been pretty busy lately, y’know, hanging out with Kim Taehyung all day—,”

“Shut up!” you hissed, trying to keep your voice low. You glanced around the stage, making sure no one was listening. Brain and Wonpil were together in the pit, and you could see Sungjin and Dowoon across the stage, adjusting lighting. Everyone was immersed in their own work, but if there was anything Jae was good at, it was grabbing attention.

“How was it?” he whispered. “Where’d you eat? Did you go out? Did you meet the rest of Bangtan? And why didn’t you text me when you got back? For all I knew, you could have been murdered.”

“The only person who’s going to get murdered is you, if you don’t quit talking about this at work.”

Jae sighed loudly. “No one’s even paying attention.”

You let out your own sigh, abandoning your work to give him an annoyed look. “I met the rest of the boys.” Jae interrupted with a gasp, but you held up your hand to silence him. “We went sightseeing and then came back to the hotel. That was it.”

Of course, you were leaving out everything that mattered—Bangtan staying the night, the way just a single look from one of them made butterflies erupt in your stomach. How watching them flex and goof around on the beach had left you ridiculously hot and bothered in a way that had nothing to do with the summer heat.

The mental image of Jimin emerging from the ocean, soaking wet with his clothes sticking to every surface of his body, was gloriously and permanently imprinted in your brain.

“What were they like?”

“Human,” you replied. Jae shot you a look. “I’m serious! They were very normal. Nice, very courteous. They paid for my food.”

Jae nodded, as if paying for your food was an incredible mark of character. “They were a lot of fun. They’re just as close as they seem on camera.” It had been a huge relief, seeing how friendly they were with one another. Friendship like that couldn’t be faked. “We went to the beach afterward.”

“That’s so exiting, oh, my God,” Jae breathed.

“Don’t tell anyone else about it,” you threatened, wagging your finger at him. “I want to respect their privacy. I mean it, Jae. You can’t even tell Wonpil.”

He pushed out his bottom lip in a pout, but then realized how serious you were. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do that.”

You almost sagged in relief. The last thing you wanted was for it to get around the staff that you’d gone out with Bangtan. You weren’t exactly sure what they would say, but you knew at least half of it would be less than savory.

“So how was it?” Jae finally asked. “Was it everything you thought it would be?”

“It was better,” you admitted, voice low. “It was the best time I’ve had since the start of the tour.” You looked down, bringing your hand up to palm at the camera stand absent-mindedly. You went back to work. “It’s never gonna happen again.”

Jae made a confused noise in the back of his throat as you finally got to the root of your bad mood. “What do you mean?”

You looked up and saw his furrowed brow, creased with concern. “I’m just a set-up crewmember, Jae. I’m sure they’re not actually interested in hanging out with me. They just wanted to show a random staff member a good time and I just happened to be the prettiest.”

Even that was debatable—you may have been the only girl in the set-up crew, but Brain and Wonpil could be radiant if they took the time to put on make-up.

Jae scoffed and hit you on the shoulder. “That’s not true.” You shot him a look and he gulped. “The hanging out part, not the prettiest part! They wouldn’t have taken you out if they weren’t interested in you.”

You snorted. “Interested how? Romantically? I went out with all seven of them, and no one showed interest. They probably just wanted to take me out as a charity case, once they found out I wanted to go sightseeing.”

That was the only way you could rationalize what had happened yesterday in your mind. After they’d left in the morning, they’d given you no way to contact them. They probably didn’t even know your last name. Cold reality had set in, and you realized that they had probably seen you as an underprivileged staff member. It had been random, even spur of the moment—once they’d heard you wanted to explore the city, they decided to show you a good time.

It was almost flattering. A lot of other celebrities wouldn’t have taken the time to hang out with an unimportant staff member, but Bangtan was generous. That didn’t stop the pang of insecurity in your chest, a feeling that bordered on rejection. You had such a good time hanging out with them, and they had only done it out of moral obligation. Yesterday probably hadn’t mean half as much to them as it had to you.

“But it’s fine,” you continued, before Jae could reply. “I still had a great time. I just don’t expect it to happen again.”

You tried to keep dejection out of your voice, but Jae heard it anyway. He cooed, wrapping you in a hug and letting you rest your forehead against his collarbone. “It’s okay, (Y/N). You still had a one in a million experience.”

“They were so nice,” you muttered, almost incoherently. “They smelled good.”

“I’m sure they did,” Jae snorted, amused.

“Namjoon found like, six crabs on the beach. He named them all. How sweet is that?”

Jae nodded and let you mumble to yourself. “It’s very sweet.”

“I can’t believe I got to hang out with them.”

“Neither can I,” Jae admitted, and you pulled away to smack him on the shoulder. “Ow!”

“No more pity party,” you declared. “Get back to work. We still have half the tour to suffer through.”

He groaned at the reminder, but then shot you a mischievous look. “Hey, now that you and Bangtan are BFF’s, do you think you could bribe them to—?” Whatever he was about to say withered underneath your harsh glare. “Never mind.”

Jae finally left, leaving you in peace. You sighed in relief with only minor guilt. You appreciated Jae and how supportive he could be, but for right now, you just wanted some quality alone-time.

You tried to focus on your work, but it was hard. The closer the concert loomed, the more your concentration veered. You remembered everything—the subtle way Jimin touched you, Hoseok’s bright smile, Yoongi’s soft glances, Jeongguk and Taehyung’s lighthearted bickering, Seokjin’s contagious laughter, Namjoon’s comforting voice.

See you tonight, baby.

It hadn’t been until after they left that you realized you wouldn’t even be able to see them after the concert, considering the set-up crew left early.

You almost felt guilty, but Namjoon’s parting comment was probably just him being courteous. In a way it would be easier, leaving early—although it was disappointing that you wouldn’t be able to see them, it was a relief to know you wouldn’t have to worry about the awkward moment when they started pulling away from you. If you held on, gripped them too tightly in your grasp, it would do nothing but prompt them to struggle until they were free. They were probably worried you’d be waiting on the edge of the stage for them, ready to pounce the second the concert ended.

No, you wouldn’t do that. You weren’t a desperate and inconsiderate fan. You had your fun with them, and now it was over; it would be better to appreciate it for what it was, instead of mourning what you thought it could have been.

Once everything was set up and the crowd started to pour in, you cooled down in the bathroom and went back to your hotel room. You packed your bag early and went back inside the venue. Spotting Sungjin with the rest of the crew loitering by the stage, you wiped the sweat from your brow and walked over. “I think I’m gonna go ahead and get in the van.”

Brian gave you a strange look. “Are you okay? Usually you’re the last person on.”

“I’m just really tired. I’ll see you soon,” you replied, trying to shrug casually. Jae gave you a concerned look but didn’t say anything as you left, sensing you still needed your own space.

You ambled onto the van and got comfortable, glad to see it was still empty. You knew you would only have a moment to yourself before people started loading their stuff, so you rested your head back and sighed, enjoying the silence for as long as you could. You were already looking forward to sleeping during the upcoming drive, while Bangtan and their concert fell further and further into the distance.

~~~

“Hand me that wire?”

You paused your work, handing Sungjin the wire he was gesturing for. He thanked you and kept working, already used to your silence. Unluckily for you, your bad mood was carrying further than you ever thought possible.

It’d been a week since you’d seen Bangtan.

Not that you were surprised, but it still stung. After their concert on Friday, Bangtan had ended up lingering in the previous city. There was a week between their last concert and their next, and with you and the rest of the set-up crew already in the next city, there wasn’t any contact to be made. Even the break-down crew had travelled ahead, to enjoy their small break with the rest of the crew.

You wanted to be unbothered. You wanted to not care, but for some reason you couldn’t get over Bangtan and the time you’d spent together. It awed you that you were able to get attached so quickly. Maybe it was because the only constant you had in your life was your meager bag of clothes and necessities, while everything else was a fleeting factor set to change. Hanging out with Bangtan hadn’t feel fleeting—it had felt permanent, which was probably why the sudden absence of them weighed heavy on your chest.

But now Bangtan had arrived—their next concert was tomorrow, and they needed to be ready. The stage was already set, and you and the set-up crew were smoothing over the finalities of the set-up. You were piddling with the sound system when the door to the arena burst open, startling everyone out of their work. Wonpil let out a shrill shriek in surprise.

“(Y/N)!” someone called, and you turned to see Hoseok striding toward you. Namjoon was right behind him with his phone in hand, as if the two of them had been looking for you.

Next to you, Wonpil gasped. Sungjin muttered a shocked curse.

“Hey,” you said, trying very, very hard to be casual, and failing very, very miserably at it. You abandoned the speaker you’d been fiddling with and turned toward them.

Seeing them in front of you again was just as jarring as the first time. In the short stretch that had passed after meeting them, you’d managed to convince yourself that your brief encounter was a dream. And if not a dream, then a moment happening in passing, never to happen again.

“Where were you after the concert Friday?” Hoseok asked. Whenever he and Namjoon reached you, Hoseok curled his hand around your arm, caressing the sensitive skin of your inner wrist with his thumb. He did it without a second thought, like the motion came naturally to him. “We were looking for you.”

A thrill shot up your spine. Unlike Taehyung last week, they didn’t waste time trying to remain inconspicuous. The entire set-up crew was staring. You tried to ignore them and focused on the two men in front of you.

“We leave early,” you replied, gesturing to your crew behind you. “To prepare the next venue. We stay until about mid-way through the concert before we head out.”

“Really?” Namjoon asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, apologetically. You were about to apologize in full until the door to the hallway burst open again, revealing the rest of Bangtan. They glanced around frantically until they caught sight of you and immediately relaxed. Sungjin muttered another curse, and Wonpil double-tapped your shoulder. He might have said something, but you were too distracted to hear it.

Jimin greeted you first, bypassing Hoseok and catching you in a brief hug. You had enough forethought to return it, but your mind blanked when he whispered, lips dangerously close to your ear, “We missed you.”

He backed away. Jeongguk and Taehyung swooped in, each wrapping themselves around you, your body trapped between them. The oldest four kept their distance, eyeing the rest of the set-up crew. Seokjin was standing slightly behind you with Yoongi next to him, and it felt like a barrier. Just like when you’d gone sightseeing together, Bangtan seemed to form a natural circle around you, tight-knit and heartening. The rest of the crew was still staring at you like you’d grown a second head.

“We didn’t realize that you and your crew left early,” Namjoon continued. “I’m sorry, we were just worried.”

“I’m the one who should be apologizing,” you replied, embarrassingly breathless. “I should have told you beforehand.”

“When do you get off?” Seokjin asked.

“We can hang out later today, if you want,” Yoongi said.

“I feel like we haven’t seen you in forever,” Jeongguk pouted. He was still standing too close, although he and Taehyung had already released you.

You huffed in amusement, “It’s been a week.”

“A week too long,” Taehyung declared.

Sungjin cleared his throat. You whipped around, embarrassed, because you’d forgotten he was there. You couldn’t help yourself, being completely enamored by the seven men surrounding you. They were completely enamoring. When Sungjin saw he had your attention, he said, “Why don’t you take your lunch? I can finish up here.”

“Thank you,” you exhaled, almost ready to kiss his feet. Wonpil looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept silent. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.”

You handed him your headset and bowed quickly, saying goodbye. You waved vaguely to your fellow crew, who were still watching you with avid interest. Bangtan followed you, also bidding goodbye to the crew.

Once you were outside, the seven of them formed a semi-circle around you as you walked. Namjoon was on one side and Yoongi on the other, the rest of them falling behind as Namjoon said, “I wish you didn’t have to leave early. We really wanted to see you.”

“Think of it this way,” you told them. “Wherever the seven of you go, you’ll know I’ll already be there waiting for you.”

Your face flushed at your own declaration. It sounded more intimate out loud. You hadn’t meant you’d be waiting for them, just—well, except you did. That seemed to be your life, now that Bangtan had wormed their way into it. You thought about them obsessively. You thrashed restlessly in your sleep, dreaming vaguely in the shape of them, the dusky dawn stealing your memories and leaving you disoriented in the morning.

It had been a week, and already they’d ensnarled you.

Someone snagged you around the waist, pressing their chest against your back. You could tell by the height that it was Jimin—his chin fit perfectly in the dip of your shoulder.

“I like the sound of that,” he murmured, mouth pressed against your skin. His sudden hug made you skid to a halt, and Bangtan surrounded you, lips curling fondly at the interaction. Heat flooded your face, but you didn’t pull away. Usually public skinship made you squirm, but skinship in front of Bangtan didn’t make you feel uncomfortable; it just felt natural.

“It’s nice to see you guys again,” you admitted, voice low. Seeing them in person brought that day rushing back, from the beach to the hotel room and everything in-between. You’d convinced yourself that it had meant nothing to them, but if that were true, then why were they here?

Jeongguk beamed, taking one of your hands. “We missed you, too.”

“Come back to our bus and we’ll eat lunch,” Namjoon said. “Does that sound okay?”

You nodded, and the eight of you made small talk on the walk back. You were relieved to notice that the conversation seemed to pick up right were it left off, with no awkward pause in-between.

Bangtan had ample leftovers that they heated up. Seokjin insisted on making your plate, and the eight of you were scattered across the living area, sitting on countertops, the floor, the couch. You ate, but in the midst of the conversation you went quiet, still questioning yourself. Namjoon noticed immediately.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “You look uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you denied, toying with the food on your plate. It wasn’t a lie—Bangtan didn’t make you uncomfortable, but that didn’t stop you from shifting back and forth nervously on your feet. You just weren’t used to them, and you didn’t understand their intentions. You shoveled more food into your mouth, already feeling yourself getting full.

“You didn’t look happy to see us,” Hoseok observed, as if he’d been waiting for Namjoon to bring it up. “And you stopped talking to us after we hung out.”

“We were nervous you didn’t like us,” Yoongi continued, scratching nervously behind his ear.

“No!” you cried. You couldn’t believe that they were somehow under the impression that you didn’t like them—if you were being honest, you liked them too much. You were almost addicted to the way they made you feel. “I was just really, really surprised. I didn’t expect to see you.”

Jimin crinkled his nose. “Why? We wanted to see you after the concert, but you weren’t there.”

You toed anxiously at the floor, embarrassment coloring your face. You weren’t sure why, but you were compelled to be honest with them. You set your plate on the kitchen counter and pushed it to the side. “I didn’t think the seven of you would be all that interested in seeing me again.”

“Why?” Jeongguk asked, almost hurt.

“I’m boring,” you admitted. “I’m just a staff member. I don’t have much to offer—,”

“We think you’re fantastic,” Namjoon interrupted.

“We’d hang out with you every day, if we could,” Taehyung said.

“We wouldn’t hang out with you unless we wanted to,” Yoongi pointed out.

“Really?” you breathed, still unsure. They had no reason to lie, but you couldn’t understand why they were so interested in you. You were nothing special, nothing distinct or extraordinary. Surely they could get anything they wanted from you out of somebody else.

The eight of you sat in silence until Jimin blurted out, “Do you wanna move to mid-crew?” Bangtan threw him a scathing look. Obviously, he wasn’t supposed to say that part.

“Mid-crew?” you asked, surprised. Mid-crew were the people who handled set-up emergencies during the concert. It was a highly coveted position because it paid the best and allowed the most celebrity exposure, which also meant it was very, very hard to get.

“We talked to the mid-crew manager,” Namjoon explained, turning his attention back to you. “She said they were short on people and we mentioned your name. It’s a lot easier to move a current crewmember to a new position than interview and background check a new employee.”

“We already know you’re good at your job,” Seokjin said. “Your manager bragged when we asked about you.”

They’d talked to your manager? You pulled your bottom lip through your teeth. “I don’t know. It’s very sudden.”

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want it,” Hoseok said. “But it’d be nice to see you more often.”

Taking the job would be your best option. It paid better, it was work similar to what you already did. You wouldn’t get to see Jae and the rest of the set-up crew as often, but you’d still see them during every break and before every concert.

If you took the job, you’d get to stay and watch every concert. No more leaving early wishing you could stay. No more sitting in the van staring longingly out of the back window.

And it paid better.

“Let me talk to my manager first,” you told them. “If it’s convenient, then yeah, I’d love to switch to mid-crew.”

They seemed greatly pleased by your decision. The eight of you finished eating, and Namjoon gathered the dirty dishes to put them in the sink for another unlucky member to clean later. Seokjin glanced at his phone and frowned.

“We don’t have long,” he said, sadly. “Want to watch a movie?”

You glanced nervously at your own phone. “I should really get back to work.”

“Please?” Jeongguk asked, staring at you pitifully. You couldn’t imagine how Bangtan stopped Jeongguk from getting away with everything with a look like that. He’d get off scotch-free for murder if he turned that wide-eyed gaze on the judge.

“Fine,” you relented. “I just don’t want to interrupt your schedule.”

“You won’t!” Jimin chirped, happily. “Sit next to me.”

He dragged you to the couch and sat down on the far end of it, pulling you next to him. He immediately cuddled against your side, barely noticing the way you stiffened. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable—but you were just one woman, you only had so much self-control. Cuddling on the couch with Jimin was awakening something within you that you’d rather keep buried until you were in the privacy of your bed or shower.

If you were being honest, you liked it. You liked the way they made you feel. But all seven were making you feel that way—if even just one of them wanted you in return, how could you choose between them?

“I’m sorry,” Jimin apologized, sheepishly. He pulled away slightly. “We’re just so used to being close with each other—,”

“It’s okay,” you were quick to interrupt, face flushing. “I don’t mind. I like it.”

Was it your imagination, or did Jimin’s smile turn into a smirk? “Really?”

You nodded your head and tried to shrug casually. “I mean, yeah. It’s nice.”

He sunk further into the couch. Jimin was pressed against you from shoulder to knee, and he brought his arm up and around the ledge of the couch, making you sink further toward his chest. “That’s good, baby.”

That damn pet name again. You pulled your bottom lip through your teeth, unconsciously leaning forward. Jimin’s mouth just looked so soft, and you wanted him to replace your teeth with his own as you bit almost painfully at the abused flesh.

Taehyung clapped so suddenly it startled you out of your trance, jerking in Jimin’s hold. You didn’t see it, but Jimin shot Taehyung a quick glare as the other man sat down at your other side. Jeongguk squeezed in next to him, and the four of you sat close on the couch while hyung line sat on the floor in front of you.

Seokjin leaned back against the couch, wedging your thighs open to fit his shoulders between them. A bolt of heat shot down your spine and you tried to ignore it, but all you could focus on was the heat of Jin’s body and the way your thighs were pressed obscenely tight against Taehyung and Jimin’s. Taehyung’s hand came down hot on your knee, and you felt Jeongguk’s fingers brush the back of your neck as he draped his arm over Taehyung’s shoulders, overlapping with Jimin’s.

“What do you want to watch?” Yoongi asked, and it took you a second to realize he was speaking to you.

“Um,” you said, breathless. “Anything’s fine, really.”

Yoongi and Namjoon argued good-naturedly over what movie to watch until they put on a nameless comedy that you could barely focus on. You were hyperaware of Bangtan’s every shift, how their every move seemed to be them pressing closer to you.

The eight of you watched Netflix until Bangtan’s manager knocked on their door to remind them they had a sound check in thirty minutes. Bangtan stood up and watched you leave reluctantly, already texting Sungjin to tell him you were on your way back. They each hugged you goodbye, holding you tighter and tighter until Jeongguk was practically trapping you against his chest.

“I’ll talk to my manager tonight,” you assured them. “I won’t be able to stay after tonight’s concert, but maybe I can make the switch afterward.”

“What’s your phone number?” Hoseok asked, taking out his phone. “Just so we can stay in touch.”

You gave it to them, giggling as they all texted you, so you had their number in return. You were tempted to linger even longer until Bangtan’s manager knocked again, and you nodded sadly before finally leaving.

~~~

“How could she think we didn’t like her?” Jimin exclaimed after you left, throwing himself down on his bunk. He snuggled sulkily into his pillow.

“We came on too strong,” Namjoon said, getting a glass of water from the kitchen. “She thought it was too good to be true.”

Jeongguk snorted. “Don’t be arrogant. Maybe we should shower her in more affection? Just to get the point across.”

“Should we buy her something? Clothes? Jewelry?” Taehyung contemplated. “Oh, I know—a car.”

“We don’t even know if she can drive,” Yoongi said, falling heavily onto the couch. “She didn’t even want us to pay for dinner, and you want to buy her a car?”

The seven of them sat in sulky silence, each contemplating what they could do to show you their affection was genuine.

“I thought this would be easier,” Hoseok admitted, toying with the end of his shirt. “We know she’s attracted to us. We know she’s interested. But she’s holding herself back.”

“It’s probably very overwhelming,” Namjoon said. “There’s seven of us and one of her. She can’t be expected to just magically fall for all of us. That’s just not how normal people do it.”

“But she’s not normal, she’s ours,” Jeongguk groaned.

Yoongi said, “Maybe we should make our intentions known early. Let her know we all want to be with her. Then she won’t be as confused.”

Jimin scoffed. “She’d run for the door. How would you feel if you found out you’re fated to love seven people? She probably doesn’t even know what a soulmate is.”

Soulmates were a very rare thing in the world, and usually happened between two or three people. Never eight. Most people didn’t even believe soulmates existed, but because the connection was usually passed down by generations, each of Bangtan’s parents were soulmates. They’d had a grasp of the concept young and had been told from an early age that they’d have a soulmate of their own one day.

Sometimes soulmates weren’t sexual, but like a complete meeting of minds. That was how it manifested with Bangtan—they were so close, they were practically telepathic. Despite this, they’d always felt like something was missing. They didn’t know what until they’d met you, and realized you were the missing piece to their puzzle.

The connection they felt with you was different than the connection that had with each other. They wanted to be with each other, but they wanted to be with you. Which was why they were so desperate to grab your attention.

The eight of you were meant to be together.

Perhaps your parents weren’t soulmates? Most people who came from families without soulmates didn’t even know soulmates were possible. Is that why you were so nervous to fall for them?

“We need to be delicate,” Seokjin said. “Be her friend first and confess once she realizes she can trust us.” He grimaced. “However long that might take.”

The following silence was heavy. Taehyung sighed and climbed into his own bunk, mirroring Jimin’s position.

“I suggest sex,” Hoseok said, and someone threw their shoe at him. “Ow! What? As if the rest of you weren’t thinking it. Jimin almost creamed himself touching her thigh in the van.”

“Shut up,” Jimin snapped, glaring at him. “You got a boner just sleeping in the same room as her. She wasn’t even in your bed.”

Hoseok’s face colored. “Whatever. It was just a suggestion.”

“We’re not having sex with (Y/N),” Namjoon said, and God help him, his dick was hard just saying your name and sex in the same sentence.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk whined.

“Namjoon’s right,” Seokjin said. “We have to ease her into it. We can’t just stick her in the middle of an orgy.”

“She’d like it,” Jeongguk replied, and his tongue ran over his bottom lip. “We’d make her like it.”

“Bad thoughts!” Seokjin cried. “I’m going to get a spray bottle if you don’t stop thinking like that.”

“Like what?” Yoongi asked. “She’s our soulmate. She was made to fit under, over, and between the seven of us, at the same time, in a variety of positions—,”

“Hyung,” Namjoon hissed, mind steadily filling with the image of you spread out for them, writhing in pleasure.

“Moaning,” Taehyung added, shifting restlessly in his bed. “She’d sound so hot.”

“Cut it out,” Jimin whined. “Now I’m hard.”

“You’re all degenerates,” Seokjin said. “We shouldn’t be thinking about her like that.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite,” Jeongguk replied. “You’ve thought about her, too.”

“Her pretty little face slack with pleasure,” Yoongi continued, staring off into the distance, see it, seeing you, what you would look like underneath him. “Begging.”

“Do you think she’d moan, or gasp?” Hoseok asked.

Namjoon scoffed. “We’d make her scream, obviously.”

Taehyung let out a tortured groan, rolling out of his bunk. There was a visible and angry bulge in his sweatpants, and he gestured to it. “I can’t go to sound check like this. I call the shower.”

“No fair!” Jimin cried, hitting him with a pillow. “You always get the shower. Just masturbate in your bunk like the rest of us.”

“Don’t blame me, blame him,” Taehyung replied, pointing his finger at Yoongi. “He did this.”

Yoongi shrugged remorselessly, an almost unnoticeable flush working up his pale neck. “I was just thinking out loud.”

“I don’t care who does what where,” Namjoon hissed, annoyed by his own predicament. “As long as everyone’s problem is solved by sound check.”

Namjoon’s statement was interrupted by Jeongguk slamming the door to the back room of the travel bus, the only room other than the bathroom that had a door. Taehyung immediately rushed to the bathroom. Namjoon would have laughed if he wasn’t too busy eyeing the rest of the group, each member willing to argue over where each of them got enough privacy to touch themselves.

“I’m already in my bunk,” Jimin said, fighting the urge to palm himself through his jeans while everyone was still around.

Seokjin let out a pained sigh. “There’s a locker room in the venue I could use.”

“Driver’s seat!” Hoseok cried, exiting the bus to access the passenger seat from the outside. Like an attached trailer, the tour bus was sectioned-off from the front seat where the driver sat.

Seokjin left, and Yoongi and Namjoon stared each other down.

“You did this,” Namjoon accused, narrowing his eyes.

“I’m your hyung,” Yoongi pointed out.

Namjoon groaned. “Please don’t make me masturbate in the van again.”

Yoongi shrugged from his position on the couch. “I’m already sitting down.”

“You’re the worst,” Namjoon said. “The complete worst.”

Yoongi gave him an unimpressed look. “Lock the door behind you.”

Namjoon did so and trudged to the van. All seven of them were sweaty but slightly more satisfied when they regrouped by the stage fifteen minutes later.