#one direction band member au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jazzfordshire · 11 months

Note

Oooooh, that paladin/new god post... for a SuperCorp AU, which would be which? My first inclination is divine Lena and paladin Kara, but I think an argument can be made for the other way around.

I think either could totally argued, but Paladin Kara is too good for me not to kind of spiral and write Lena as the goddess of Death so!!!! This isn’t much like the original post prompt but it’s where my brain went 🤷‍♀️

As one cursed with eternal life, it was only a matter of time before Death tried to come for Kara.

She sees the goddess for the first time as she’s sitting on a fallen tree, trying to dig a knife out of her back. She’d intervened in a roadside robbery out of pure instinct more than anything else – she prefers to keep to herself, for the most part, and has done so for years beyond counting – and she hadn’t been expecting this band of brigands to have a fourth member hidden in the woods. He’d caught her by surprise. Leading to her current predicament. She hadn’t even noticed the blade sticking out from between her shoulders until after she’d sent the thieves running and the victims on their merry way, and now it’s stubbornly lodged in a place she can’t reach.

Death stands in the shadows. Her dress is (unsurprisingly) black, her long dark hair framing a face Kara can’t quite see. She reminds Kara of the night. A foreign concept, here - the sun of this world never moves from the centre of the sky. Always beaming straight down. It focuses on this half of the planet, leaving the other half dark and dead rather than simply deigning to set for half the day to share its light. It leaves the world’s denizens thinking the globe is flat. A ridiculous notion.

The god of the sun had been benevolent on Kara’s world. Not here.

“I’ve been watching you,” the goddess says. Her voice echoes, clouds around Kara’s senses like a flock of ravens. “You’ve walked this earth for 120 years and haven’t aged a day. You should be dead. Why is your name not on my list?”

“I’m not of this earth,” Kara says distractedly. The voice should send shivers down her spine, but as her spine is currently being scraped by sharp iron she has bigger fish to fry at the moment.

“That much I do know,” Death says coldly. “Your gods are dead.”

The reminder makes Kara’s chest ache. An echo of her dead planet, more dead even than the darkened half of this one. Reduced to rubble. But she smiles through it.

“They are.”

“That shouldn’t mean you can evade death. In any realm.”

“Evade is a funny word for being kept from something,” Kara says, gritting her teeth as her fingers brush the knife’s handle without grasping it. Every time she twists her arm to do it, it sends a shot of pure pain through her. “Could you maybe help me with this?”

“You want to die?” Death asks. Her voice is changed, now – the smoky effect drops, as if it was an affectation interrupted by her shock.

“Would love to, actually.”

“So, how -”

“Ask your brother,” Kara says cheerfully. She knows the pantheon of this world almost as well as her own, now. Learned that hard lesson when she arrived here alone, on this world where the sun never sets. She knows the familial ties that bind the gods. There were many once, one for every little thing one might need to pray for, but now there are but two. Lex, the sun god who provides life, and his unnamed sister the goddess of Death.

Death scoffs. “What does my brother have to do with this?”

“He cursed me,” Kara says, finally turning in her frustration to a nearby tree. Bracing for pain she rubs her back against it, strafing until bark hits blade and the pressure slides the knife free. The wave of pain eases into relief as soon as it’s gone, and in moments the wound has stitched itself up. “With eternal life. Cursed never to see my dead family in the afterlife. Clever, right?”

“That’s not possible,” Death says slowly. “He can’t supersede my domain.”

“Well, he has,” Kara says, nodding her head half-respectfully in Death’s direction before gathering up her things and heading back to the road. She has nowhere in particular to be, but walking gives her a sense of purpose even so. “So take it up with him.”

The goddess disappears in a dramatic wave of black smoke. And that, Kara thinks, is the end of that.

Kara meets the goddess of death again 3 years later. She’s busy putting out a house fire, one that might have overtaken the entire village if left to grow – she’s the only one braving the flames when everyone else has run to safety. The fire sears her palms, leaves shiny red welts that disappear the moment they see the rays of the sun, but it hardly registers as pain anymore. She’s grown used to it in the last few years.

Saving people in need means a lot of injury.

When the flames are dampened and she’s left pouring water on the cinders, she moves a crooked pile of rubble to find the dark goddess sitting with graceful poise on the charred remains of a wooden table. Even in the eternal sunshine, darkness sits around her like a heavy cloak.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Kara says. She brushes the ash from her hands, gesturing at her soot-stained face. “Sorry about the mess.”

“He shouldn’t be able to do this,” Death says. Kara can detect none of the echoing dramatics her voice held during their last meeting – now her tone is clear and sharp. Low and a little raspy, maybe, but not in an unpleasant way. Quite the opposite, in fact.

“Shouldn’t, but did,” Kara says, shrugging and moving to pass around the table. “If you’ll excuse me?”

The goddess holds out a hand, and Kara’s way is blocked by a dark cloud of energy. Kara sighs.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting me to do,” Kara says, with a little more steel to her voice. “I’d love to help you out and go into the great unknown or whatever it is that you do, but I can’t die. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“Why did he curse you?” Death asks.

“Because he is the great Lord of the sun on this world, and honouring Rao dishonours him,” Kara replies heavily, leaning against a very unsteady beam. It’s hot against the skin of her arm. “He took offence to worship being given to another when I first arrived here. Even a dead god.”

The goddess is quiet. Embers crackle and settle around them - the orange glow lights the angles in her face through her cloak of shadow, though the details are still obscured.

“Did you know that the sun moves on most worlds?” Kara says. The goddess doesn’t move. “Rao didn’t control the sun. He was the sun. He moved through the day to cover the whole planet. There’s no night-time, here.”

“Yes,” Death says softly. “My brother likes to be the centre of everyone’s sky.”

“Except the dark side of the planet.”

Death doesn’t answer for a time. Shadows curl around her, licking at the surface of the table like dark flames.

“Most would covet eternal life, you know,” Death finally says. Her voice is curious. “Most hate death as a very concept. Hate me.”

Kara folds her arms. She looks directly at Death, focused on where her eyes should be.

“I’m not most.”

After a beat the goddess disappears, leaving Kara alone in the ashes.

After that day, Kara can almost feel the goddess watching her every time she survives something that should kill a mortal. Every time she heals a fatal wound, or lets another birthday pass her by without a sign of age. But for years the goddess leaves her alone. It’s another 21 before Kara sees the goddess of death again.

This time, Kara is almost sure she’s finally managed it. She dove deep to pull someone from the remains of a shipwreck, and after sending them to the surface for rescue she stayed underwater. Letting her air run out slowly, feeling her lungs fill with seawater. Choking in the dark. Blackness creeping in, the world getting fuzzy, her family’s faces swimming before her eyes as she feels the first spark of hope she’s felt in over a century -

She wakes to hot sunlight, sand under her back, and the goddess of death looking down at her from a regal seat on a beached crate of supplies. Her dark hair is framed by midday sun, her pale skin luminescent and stubbornly resisting its rays. For the first time, Kara can see the details of her face. She’s as flawless as a goddess might be expected to be, each feature carved and tying together a picture worthy of worship. And her eyes. They waver back and forth in colour, once blue and now green, like shades of the ocean reflected by different skies.

She’s beautiful. And she’s looking at Kara like she’s a stubborn puzzle-box, refusing to give up its secrets.

“Damn,” Kara says, coughing up several mouthfuls of salty water and turning over to spit them into the sand. “I came close that time, didn’t I?”

“I don’t understand you.”

Kara flops back. Her lungs are burning, and she can already tell it’s going to be hell to get all this sand out of her clothes. “Yeah, I don’t understand me either.”

“You could be living a life of selfish pleasure. Endless pleasure,” Death says. There’s a crease between her brows that, in her drowning-induced delirium, Kara wants to smooth with a finger. The first hint of imperfection in her limestone face. “You could accrue wealth and fame and followers. You could live the life of a god on earth if you wanted, and yet you spend your time throwing yourself into danger for others.”

“Why not?” Kara says, sitting up and feeling each vertebrae pop back into place. “I can’t die. I can do things others can’t.”

“So instead you aim to eliminate names from my list.” The goddess doesn’t look angry. Just confused. “Today three names disappeared before I could get here.”

“I would say sorry, but I don’t like to lie,” Kara says. She brushes sand from her arms, grimacing at the knots the seawater has made in her hair.

The goddess’ lips twitch. Almost a smile. Her mouth downturns naturally - fitting, for a goddess of the saddest domain - but Kara thinks suddenly that her smile might just be life-giving. She wants to see it. It lights a fire in her she didn’t expect.

“No need to apologize,” Death says quietly. “I take no pleasure in the reaping of souls.”

Kara pauses partway through untangling her hair.

“Huh.”

“Is that surprising?” Death says. One perfect brow arches, and Kara traces its curve with her eyes.

“Well, that’s not how people speak of you.”

“Ah, yes. Death, the cruel thief of joy,” the goddess says, a thread of bitterness weaving into her words. “Waiting in the dark to snatch mortals away at the slightest provocation. Bringing woe and grief wherever she goes.”

The dark smoke that’s been mostly absent from their conversation appears again. It sweeps around Death, blurring her features like a stormcloud, and Kara leans back on her hands.

“I mean. The aesthetic isn’t exactly doing you any favours,” Kara notes.

The smoke parts. And this time, the goddess does smile. It’s almost incredulous, like she’s shocked at Kara’s gall, but Kara finds she was correct - that smile is like the first beam of moonlight after an eclipse. Something not of this world.

“No,” the goddess says, rising to her feet. The sand doesn’t touch her dress. “I suppose it isn’t.”

Her form starts to waver again. Black smoke takes over her features, sweeping across the beach. Kara scrambles to her feet. Sand sticks wetly to her back, making her hyper-aware of just how bedraggled she must look in comparison to the literal goddess she’s speaking to, but she calls out anyways.

“Wait!”

The smoke stops.

“Do you have a name?” Kara asks, hardly daring to hope for an answer. She can feel Death looking at her even with her features obscured.

“I haven’t used it in a long time.”

“No time like the present,” Kara says. The smoke billows out, sweeping across Kara’s soggy boots. Almost like a laugh. After a long pause, she answers.

“It’s…it’s Lena.”

Kara smiles.

“I’m Kara. Since my name isn’t on your list.”

Lena disappears without an acknowledgement. But Kara clings to her name. She holds it in her mouth like a sweet, lets it melt over her tongue as the last hint of the goddess’ presence disappears in the bright sunshine.

“Until next time. Lena.”

Saving people in need becomes something of a pastime. With nothing much else to do with her endless days Kara keeps travelling, helping out where she can and learning how to fight to do so more effectively. And, she finds, she’s good at it. It comes as easily to her as anything.

But sometimes, even easy things go wrong.

It isn’t often that Kara fails. But her strength has limits, even with eternal life – when the man she’s caught mid-fall on a rocky cliff slips from her grasp, there’s little she can do but watch as he hits the ground. She even falls after him, pulling herself towards him on broken legs that snap themselves back into place within moments, but there’s nothing she can do to heal his broken body.

Lena appears in her periphery as she’s holding him. His wheezing breath is starting to leave him - he’s terrified, seizing at her clothes.

“Help,” he chokes. Lena moves just into Kara’s field of vision. Not circling, but making her presence known.

“I can’t,” Kara whispers. She lays him gently on the ground, prising his hands from her tunic and stepping away, and when she finally looks at Lena she sees not satisfaction but deep, unimaginable sadness.

The moment Lena takes Kara’s place, he knows.

“No,” he moans, trying to scramble away but failing as the strength leaves his body. “No, no, please, I – I have a family, you can’t – please don’t -”

“Be at peace,” Lena says softly. A pale hand comes to rest on his wound, a soft glow emanating from her palm. Her face is set in aching empathy. “Your suffering is over. No pain will follow you here.”

The man is not at peace. He’s still terrified, hardly hearing her comforting words, but Lena says them anyways; when his spirit fades and his body goes limp, Lena stands. She doesn’t look at Kara, not directly, but nor does she disappear as Kara takes a heavy seat on a flat rock.

After a moment, Kara calls out.

“Lena?”

Lena twitches. Her hand flexes, making a fist and then relaxing again. Kara wonders if she’s heard her name called a single time since their last meeting.

“Come talk to me,” Kara says softly. She pats the spot beside her, and Lena’s eyes flicker to the movement. “Please?”

Lena comes closer, but she doesn’t sit. Her eyes are downcast. Kara wishes she would look up, so that she could see the ever-changing colour of them. She’s been thinking about it for years, now. She’s just as starkly beautiful as she was the last time they saw each other.

“I’m sorry,” Lena says quietly. Kara shrugs, trying to put aside the guilt eating away at her insides.

“Can’t save everyone.”

“And yet you still try. Doesn’t it get tiresome?”

“I should ask you the same thing,” Kara says. Lena finally looks up.

“My task is enforced on me,” Lena says, her hands coming together in something close to a fidget before she seems to remember herself and stop. Her eyes are grey, today. Like the choppy steel of a stormy sea. “You do this by choice. Have you made some kind of game out of erasing names from my list?”

“I guess you could say that,” Kara shrugs. She moves over, patting the open spot beside her again. “Or maybe I just enjoy your company.”

Lena scoffs. “That’s even more absurd than defying Death.”

“And yet, here I am. Doing both.”

Lena’s face is like stone as she assesses Kara’s words. But she sits.

“You don’t get to talk to people often, do you?” Kara says. Lena has left a great deal of space between them, perching on the very edge of the rock, and Kara takes in what she can of her side profile.

“Not unless I’m bringing them to the afterlife,” Lena says. Her hands twist together again. “And in those cases, as you saw, they tend to be…”

“Afraid.”

“Or angry. Or pleading. But yes. Mostly frightened,” Lena sighs. “Everyone fears the unknown. It doesn’t really matter what I say.”

“But you still try,” Kara says. It’s something she never would have expected from Death, this well of genuine empathy for the humans she reaps, but it seems to be a fundamental part of Lena just as much as her stormy eyes or her sharp tongue.

Lena nods. “Everyone deserves comfort in their final moments. Especially if they’re gripped by fear.”

Kara’s next words come in a whisper.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

Lena looks at her sharply. Her brows are knitted with disbelief, and her hands stop their twisting and instead brace on the rock.

“My brother did this to you,” Lena says. Her voice is low, but urgent as she leans towards Kara as if to persuade her. “Keeps you from seeing your family. He is the source of your curse.”

“Unless I’m mistaken, you don’t seem to be your brother.”

Kara’s hand moves closer to where Lena’s rests. A few inches between them, perhaps, easily closed. Closer and closer Kara moves, towards Lena’s pale fingers, reaching –

The swirling black cloud has hidden Lena’s features before Kara can come close to touching Death’s hand.

“Lena, wait!” Kara shouts. But it’s to empty air. The goddess of death is gone.

After that day, Kara puts herself in danger perhaps a shade more than she did before in the hopes of drawing Lena out again. Sometimes Kara can feel her presence when she saves a life, a gentle smoky warmth just over her shoulder; sometimes she can almost see her as someone’s soul is leaving their body, if Kara has failed to change their fate. A faint outline. A sense of calm, even when the dying person is frightened. But no matter what Kara does Lena doesn’t materialize.

She even tries praying, which feels as silly as it must look. Lena doesn’t answer. Her absence only intensifies Kara’s fascination.

As she walks the world Kara looks for worshippers of her newly-favoured goddess, and finds few and far between. Besides the occasional murderous cult who worship a version of Death that doesn’t resemble Lena in the slightest and a single, run-down temple on a remote island hidden from human access, there’s no trace of the kind of worship given to Lena’s brother the sun-god. No festivals, no sacrifices, hardly even an acknowledgement. Only fear, and resistance against the inevitable. As if pretending death doesn’t exist will stave it off indefinitely.

Even with only three meetings, Kara feels somehow as if she knows Lena. And her erasure feels deeply unfair.

It takes 12 years for Kara to see her again. 12 years of looking for danger, saving people whose names she knows must have been on Lena’s list, stealing souls back from Death in an endless back-and-forth, until finally Kara does something drastic.

She takes her vows, and becomes Death’s only Paladin.

Hearing Lena’s voice again is like hearing the first drops of rain after a long drought.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

Kara opens her eyes. She’s only halfway through her 24 hours of silent prayer in this windowless room, the last step in this holy process, and now her patron goddess herself is perched on the altar surrounded by flickering candles. Her legs are folded one over the other in a graceful cross, and her face is set in incredulity.

“Lena!” Kara breathes, grinning wide and rising from her knees. “Long time no see!”

“Death doesn’t have Paladins, Kara,” Lena says fiercely, as if Kara hasn’t greeted her at all. “Nobody walks the earth saving people in Death’s name. My brother’s Paladins seek to defy me, they don’t…they don’t worship.”

“Why not?” Kara shrugs. Her armour, a dark leather set with Death’s symbol on the breast, squeaks with her movement in the way new leather always does. Lena’s nostrils flare.

“Because it doesn’t make sense!”

“It does, though. Think about it,” Kara says, as insistent in her decision as she’s been these last two years of training. She’s had to weather the disbelief of the other Paladins here too, all training to serve the sun-god. She’s gotten more than enough practice. “I can’t die. Ever. Who’s more fitting to carry out Death’s will?”

“What are you going to do, go out and kill people indiscriminately in my name?” Lena says, waving her hands wide. The strength of her reaction makes her somehow more real than she’s ever been, even when her draped sleeves pass over the candles without catching. “What could possibly be the function of a Paladin of Death?”

“You don’t take pleasure in the reaping of souls.”

Lena pauses. Her arms fall slowly back to her sides.

“You remembered that,” she whispers.

Kara knows then with a certainty she can’t describe that she’s done the right thing. She’s tried keeping Rao in her heart, she’s tried escaping from her past, she’s tried every method available on this earth of letting Death take her. But now that she knows Death, has seen her firsthand, she’ll kneel for Lena and nobody else.

“I can be your vassal,” Kara says, lowering her voice to match Lena’s. “I can sort those who can be spared from those whose time has come. Make your job easier. Save them, or ease their passage if I need to. Soothe some of that fear.”

Lena bites at her lower lip. Her teeth are brilliantly white, the edges sharp enough to leave a mark that fades slowly.

“It would defy my brother,” Lena admits. “He’s the one who gave me this task. I’m not meant to deviate.”

“Who better to do that, too?”

Lena is silent. Kara approaches her, trying to absorb her every perfect feature while she can – the curve of her brow, the shape of her sharp jaw framing her mouth. The slight underbite that shines through as she seems to chew on the inside of her cheek.

Kara reaches out a hand.

Lena slides off the altar, snatching her arm away before Kara can get close. “No - you can’t touch me.”

“Why not?”

Lena sidesteps, sliding past Kara and backing up until her back hits the wall. “Mortals can’t touch the gods. You’ll burn. It’ll -”

“Kill me?” Kara grins. She removes her gauntlet, dropping it to the flagstones. “I’d welcome it.”

Again, slowly, she reaches for Lena’s hand. And slowly Lena relaxes her arm until finally, Kara’s fingers wrap around her bare wrist.

Lena’s skin is like ice. It’s cold enough that it might burn, like Lena said, if Kara wasn’t cursed. But it doesn’t. Kara feels more alive than she’s felt in decades, just from a simple touch. Wonderfully alive. Joyously alive. Lena’s intake of breath is sharp enough to cut.

“See?” Kara says lowly. “My curse is good for something.”

“You’re…”

Kara’s free hand joins the first. She cups both of them around Lena’s, feeling their shape; Lena’s long, elegant fingers curl into themselves in the cradle of Kara’s palms, their cold receding. Kara keeps her voice low.

“What am I?”

Lena swallows. Kara watches her throat bob, her lips parting to show a flash of her pink tongue.

“Warm,” Lena murmurs. “Like the sun. I haven’t felt warmth in…a long time.”

Kara is close to her. So close that she can see the shifting sea colours in Lena’s eyes even in the dim candlelight. Carefully, Kara sinks to her knees with Lena’s hands still cradled in her own. She opens up her fingers so that she can press her forehead to Lena’s palms, and she finds that the coldness has left them. They’re almost hot, now.

“Let me serve you, Lena,” Kara whispers, like the endless prayers she’s been whispering since she was locked in this room. “Please.”

Lena’s fingers move. For a moment Kara thinks she might push her away. But instead they relax, and press against the top of Kara’s head.

“You’re the strangest person I’ve ever met,” Lena says. But there’s wonder in her voice. Happiness, even. And when she disappears in her usual cloud of smoke, the smoke drifts over Kara. She breathes it in, feeling it full her lungs, and on the first breath she feels it changing her.

Lena smells of fresh earth. Of fallen leaves, crisp and decomposing in a fragrant autumn. The tangy smoke of a doused fire.

She smells like the cool air of night.

When she smoke leaves her, Kara feels different. Unimaginably different. Envigorated. The pew she uses to pull herself to her feet cracks and splits under her hand with hardly any effort, and when she flexes her shoulders – feeling a new strength in them, one she can’t wait to explore – she feels something else there.

Two black, feathered wings unfurl from her back, filling the room with fragrant shadow.

#supercorp #supercorp fic #goddess/paladin au #tw: death #tw: suicide mention #is it cliche? yes #has it been done before? probably #did i have fun writing it anyways? absolutely!#might get cheeky and write it out into a fic who knows

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honeybeejam · 5 months

Text

be my mistake: lorenzo berkshire x reader

pairing: guitarist!lorenzo berkshire x gn!hufflepuff!reader, drummer!ex!mattheo riddle x reader

reader’s physical body is never described! there are a few slightly feminine leaning nicknames

synopsis: cruciatus' lead singer ends their relationship with drummer mattheo riddle. In a moment of desperation, the hufflepuff ends up crashing into none other than their best friend (and guitarist) lorenzo berkshire.

warnings: language, 18+, MDNI, smut, praise kink, penetration, m orgasm, reader orgasm, dom! enzo, slight exhibitionism

word count: 2.5k

part of the cruciatus au: nihilist! ep (masterlist coming soon)

“save all the jokes you’re going to make

while i see how much drink i can take

then be my mistake.”

It took six excruciatingly painful days to leave the Hufflepuff dormitories. Susan Bones was the only living soul to see your swollen eyes and tangled hair. She stopped by to drop off meals, water, and occasionally a box of jellybeans or a Dreamless Sleep Potion for comfort. She told you that the Slytherin table was unusually silent at meals and that she hadn’t seen Riddle at all: but it still seemed too soon to leave the comfort of your bed. Too vulnerable.

Rehearsal had gone on without you (with Pansy on vocals for the time being). Cruciatus didn’t have any scheduled performances until the silly Muggle love holiday, so it didn’t really bother the rest of the band. Besides, Pansy told them that you write better lyrics under pressure. The boys were looking to release a new album at the same performance. Perhaps the breakup would be a blessing in disguise.

You, of course, hadn’t written a single thing. You longed to be void of emotion, to enter a state of numbness where those molasses eyes didn’t haunt every beat of your heart. Every breath ached with the phantom pain of bruised ribs - it was more likely pain from heaving. Susan took to turning in your schoolwork when you had the energy to complete it. Being two weeks ahead in every subject had its perks in the long run. Your tear-stained parchment assignments were on par with your grades, but that didn’t mean it was easy.

Venturing into the Hufflepuff Common Room proved a more daunting task than originally anticipated due to the nerves. You only needed to make it to the kitchens. Winky promised a favor last time you comforted her, and you hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days. A quick sprint from the barrels to the portrait of the ticklish pear leaves you vulnerable from all directions, but the hall seemed empty.

Worth the risk, you mused and broke out into a run.

A flash of green. A pained hiss. Two large hands around your waist, and then a familiar groan. Your head hit something firm but comfortable as you let out an abnormally high-pitched squeak. When everything stopped moving, you moved to a sitting position on your fall-breaker, wincing as you saw the familiar deep brown of his eyes and the pain painted across his features.

“Oh, Enzo! I am so so sorry, Merlin’s sake!” you gasped out, scrambling off of him and standing up as you reached out to assess the damage to his head. Your fingers threaded through his silky hair to spot a bump, only pausing when he let out a sigh.

“You’re alright, love. I should be the one apologizing. Now, I need to get off the ground before the others leave the Great Hall. I told them I was too busy to rehearse tonight.” He pushed himself up onto his elbows, accepting your now extended hand. He paused for a moment.

“Would you like to come to the dorms? It would do you well to have some company, and you know we get our own rooms. You could make sure I’m not concussed as well, darling.” He brushed the debris off of his slacks and smiled at you gently.

You pushed aside any feelings of guilt. You no longer “belonged” to Mattheo Riddle. You had every right to spend time with a mutual friend. Especially a mutual band member.

“Sure,” you replied apprehensively, relaxing when you remembered that the others were gone. He grabbed your wrist with ease and led you down the staircase.

Enzo weaved through the crowded Slytherin common room, shooting a glare to anyone who stared a little too hard. It was comforting to see Enzo act protective, since he was such an easygoing person most of the time. He never failed to make you laugh. You wrapped your arms around your center further, ignoring the concern etched into the creases of his glowing skin.

Once you were seated on his four poster, he asked you the long awaited question.

“How are you?”

“That obvious, Enz?” You replied, sighing and spreading out to cover his mattress with every part of your body. “I’m bloody miserable. If Susan reminds me of Slughorn’s essay one more time I might transfigure myself into a giant squid and take over terrorizing the Black Lake. I don’t give a rat’s ass what my Amortentia smells like. Not to mention, I couldn’t write a lyric if I read it from a textbook. I’m supposed to be writing songs about love!” The mattress creaked under your dramatic flailing and created a cacophonous sound. It sounded familiar to how you felt.

“I think you need a nightcap, darling.” Enzo reached under his mattress, coming up with a nearly full bottle of Firewhiskey. “Nott said you haven’t talked to anyone, even Pansy. We know you haven’t been in the Room of Requirement because we practice there, and Susan Bones won’t speak to me. I know you two aren’t together, but what happened?” He passed you the bottle with a grin.

You briefly lifted your head to take a drink, leaning back again as the alcohol burned your throat. You grimaced.

Enzo’s golden brown eyes lit up with pride. “Good job, darling. The first one is always the most difficult. Now tell me.”

A warm feeling crept up from the base of your neck to the tips of your ears, spreading to your chest and causing you to stutter.

“I-uh. I was tired of a-always being - fuck. I was tired of always being.. second choice. He had his toys and his, uh, escapades with you guys. I never got that freedom.”

“Escapades? I don’t recall any escapades.” That head tilt was adorable. Enzo reminded you of a confused puppy.

You sat up fully and took another burning sip of the golden liquid, pausing as it slid down your throat. “Mattheo grew up that beautiful, Enz. Everybody wonders what it’d be like to love him. He must’ve been curious about the other people here. And they’re all practically throwing themselves at him. Something about drummers, I guess.” You automatically assumed he was a cheat. A liar. It was in his blood, was it not?

“I was always jealous of him, you know.”

“To feel so wanted, so seen? I can’t imagine it’s easy. It’s all lust. I’d take that over having his father any day, though,” you babbled to fill the silence, not expecting to be interrupted.

“I was jealous because he had you.”

Oh. You chose to remain quiet at that, waiting for him to speak up again.

“I think I was angry because Riddle never considered how lucky he was,” Enzo said quietly. “That git lost something special.”

You scoffed at that, hiding behind the bottle in your hands as defense.

“Hilarious, Lorenzo. Save the jokes though, please?”

“I’m not joking.” He grabbed your chin, tilting it up as he took the bottle out of your hands. He placed it up to your mouth, tipping it to encourage you to drink. You did, stopping after a few gulps to hiccup violently. You giggled at yourself and looked to Enzo for a reaction. He seemed dazed, distracted almost. Then he spoke quickly, like he was trying to push something out of his mind.

“Let’s fuck things up.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Riddle fucked up the friend group, so let’s make it worse. Be my mistake, darling.”

You took another drink. It couldn’t hurt. It could destroy several friendships and relationships. It would definitely tear the band apart. It was irrational, irresponsible. Childish, even.

In the moment, though, Lorenzo Berkshire had never looked more enticing. You decided to test the waters.

“He’s always so busy, Enz. I get so lonely.” You looked up at him through your eyelashes, tears threatening to spill. “His eyes were always so dark and so empty. I never knew what he was feeling. I just wanted him to want me.” Honesty, vulnerability. You trusted Enzo with everything, and he held that trust close to his heart.

“I want you,” he whispered, looking at you with those same glazed over eyes.

“I need you,” you whispered back. He watched you set down the bottle of Firewhiskey.

“Nox.” The room went dark, and you felt a hand on the small of your back. He used his other hand to grasp the back of your neck, guiding your lips toward his.

You hummed with content at the feeling of his plush lips, hearing him harmonize with a deeper groan as he broke away to breathe. He pressed on your chest lightly to encourage you to lie down.

⚠️ smut below

“So pretty, little songbird. Look at you, all cute and needy,” he placed his hand on your cheek, cupping lightly. “Open.”

As if you were locked in a trance, your lips parted. Your tongue slid out to catch his pointer and middle finger, swirling around the digits. You bobbed your head slightly, watching his smile brighten and the tips of his ears turn red. Even with his fingers in your mouth, he was still nervous.

“I have you baby,” he spoke gently as you tried to get his attention. His fingers left your mouth with a ‘pop’. He traced them down your chin and past your neck to your collar. His arms lifted to gently push your sleeves aside.

Lorenzo laughed at your squirming figure below him. If he were truly a bad person, your scantily clad image would already be in Mattheo’s text messages. Not only was Lorenzo a good person, he was also a possessive person. And Mattheo had forfeited the gentle Hufflepuff as soon as she had ended things. “I would show you off, you know. You deserve that.” He helped you remove the rest of your outfit, leaving you in underwear. You tugged at his shirt needily, breathing heavy. He chuckled. “Can I make you feel good?”

You could only respond with frantic nods, beginning to get frustrated at his amused expression. He traced his long fingers along your waist, stopping to push and pull fabric until your lower half was exposed. The dark green bedsheets below you had deepened several shades, and your face followed suit.

“Out of breath, pretty baby? … This early? It’s okay, I’m gonna take care of you. You’re so wet for me.”

He quickly removed his shirt and dived back in to you, pulling your underwear past your ankles. He traced his fingers back up your calves and thighs, his breath hitting your lower stomach.

You were more of a lyricist than a musician. Although you could play a few instruments, Draco and Theo had melodies pouring from their wands with ease.

You think, however, that a song about pure bliss would feel like this moment.

Nothing but the sound of you panting as your best friend plays you like his guitar. Every twitch of his fingers made your breath halt for a moment.

“All mine. I’m gonna treat you so well, show you off to everyone.” He whispered into your skin. “Make you moan my name so loud that you can’t go on stage.”

You whimpered desperately, bucking your hips up toward him. He finally gave in. You felt the pressure of his tongue as you closed your eyes, stars exploding in your vision. You lost control of your voice, blacking out slightly.

When you came down from your high, you noticed a heavy feeling on your tongue. Although slightly dazed from cumming so hard, you could still tell what it was. You felt Lorenzo push his cock further into your mouth. You looked up at him sweetly, compliantly. If he made you feel so good, it was only fair that you returned the favor. He fucked your throat gently, careful not to hurt you. He might have deemed you his toy, but you couldn’t afford to lose your voice.

“Look at you, all cock drunk. Gonna write a song about how much better I fuck your throat than your little drummer boyfriend?” He stilled at the vibrations from your moans, feeling you twitch beneath him. He pulled his cock out of your throat and positioned himself above you.

“Look at me, Y/N.” You met his syrupy sweet eyes. “Can you tell me what you need from me, darling?”

“Need you to fuck me, Enz,” you replied immediately. “Wanna feel you inside me, want you to fuck some good ideas into my head.”

That was all he needed to push into you with force, letting out a loud and drawn out moan as he bottomed out. He took hold of your hands as he began to thrust.

“So good,” He gripped both sides of your waist firmly as he fucked into you, lifting your hips into the air. You felt yourself slipping again. He never let up pace as you approached climax. He was practically manhandling you as he pulled your hips back repeatedly, watching your eyes roll back. You could never get there by yourself, but by some divine power, Lorenzo Berkshire had you screaming and jerking violently. You felt him shudder as he slowed to a stop, his own release spilling into you. He let you ride out your orgasm before he dropped you onto the bed, curling up to you and wrapping him arms around your limp figure. He faced you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You did so good for me.” He watched you smile lazily, barely noticing footsteps until the doorknob was twisting and he was whispering the Disillusionment Charm on your body shoved under the duvet.

Mattheo and Theo walked into the dorm, both clearly intoxicated. They walked over to the opposite side of the room in search of something. If they noticed Enzo at all, they didn’t acknowledge it.

You pressed a kiss to Enzo’s inner thigh, listening to his breathing change as you brought your mouth closer to him.

Mistakes were more fun than you thought.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #enzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys #slytherin #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

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maknaeswrld · 7 months

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a life forgotten | l.mh, h.js

memories are both a treasure and a curse, and the bliss of them barely outweighs the pain that comes with bearing them

wc: 2.1k

genre: soulmate au; reincarnation au; fluff; angst; poly!minsung x reader

cw: marriage; cheating/allusions of cheating; mentions of pregnancy/parenthood; mentions of food/eating; I’m sure there’s other things, please let me know what you catch🫶 no happy ending for you; memories of past lives in italics

a/n: IN HONOR OF MINSUNG OUTTING THEMSELVES???????? respectfully I have no other explanation, enjoy!!!

Soulmates were an unpredictable thing. Everyone has them, but not everyone meets theirs.

Some actively avoid trying to find them, some do everything in their power to seek them out. You had always been in the boat of knowing it’ll happen when it happens, and if not in this life, then in the next. You had always been at peace with the knowledge that your soulmate was the one person you’re meant to find in every lifetime, so you didn’t see a point in searching for or avoiding them.

Everyone grew up hearing the stories, that seeing your soulmate for the first time will feel like instant recognition, like deja vu, and slowly as you spend more time together and see each other more, your memories of your shared past lives slowly unravel. You could understand why some would be scared of that, of the knowledge of who you were in a completely different lifetime, but you liked to think it was natural, otherwise it wouldn’t happen.

You always assumed you’d find your soulmate in a normal setting, meeting on the street or at one of your places of work, feeling the tingly feeling of familiarity and planning to meet up for a coffee, giving it the natural time to build to see if it was actually the soulmate bond or just mutual attraction. You found solace in inevitably becoming a statistic, in seeing your soulmate for the first time and them seeing you and everything happening the way everyone always told you it would.

But as your best friend was telling you about her current favorite band, listing off members names and facts faster than you could think, swiping through pictures of them all, you felt your heart sink as your eyes met the digital ones of two frighteningly familiar faces, your mind buzzing with soft recognition.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you grabbed your friends phone to swipe back to the picture, your brain alighting with renewed interest at the second look of the boys on the screen.

Water surrounded you in every direction, the sounds of laughter coming from behind you. You felt relaxed and happy, your body swaying with the peaceful rocking of the boat.

You startled only slightly when arms wrapped around your waist, a chin propping on your shoulder and a kiss being pressed gently to your cheek.

“Where is your beautiful mind right now, my love?”

“Just lost at sea, I suppose.” You laughed, turning around in his arms, one of your hands coming up to cup his face, the other reaching behind him to the other man. “Just thinking about how happy I am.”

Jisung’s smile lit up his entire face, his eyes twinkling as he leaned in for a quick kiss.

“Come back to the group, love. The boys are going to start their whining if you ignore them for too long.” Minho groaned, squeezing your hand lovingly.

“Just the boys?” You ask teasingly, raising a brow at your lovers, Jisung grinned sheepishly.

“You know how your boys can get.” He waved nonchalantly.

You excused yourself, apologizing for cutting the lunch date with your friends short, but you needed air. Stumbling down the street, you were thankful the place they picked was only a block from your apartment.

The cool spring breeze calms your nerves and clears your head enough so you could watch where you were walking. You stumbled through your door, kicking off your shoes as you made your way to your couch, sitting heavily, head in your hands as your leg bounced.

A path cleared between two groups of people, a beautiful altar covered in vines and wildflowers at the end of it. Everyone present was looking at you, but you couldn’t take your eyes off them.

Jisung had a lovesick smile on his face, Minho’s eyes were shiny with unshed tears. You felt weightless as you made your way to them, being the center of their attention making you feel like the most incredible person in the whole world.

Chan passed you off to them with a kiss to your cheek and a teasing threat towards your lovers, filling in for the father who disowned you for loving two men. They took one hand each, guiding you to stand in between them, all three of you giddy throughout the entire ceremony.

The rings Hyunjin made for the three of you were intricately beautiful, you saw them for the first time only as they were placed on each finger.

It was a fairly small and sweet affair, but you wouldn’t want to have had it any other way, everyone that mattered most to you and both of your husbands were present.

The night ran long as your love was celebrated, and ran even longer once you three finally got a moment for yourselves.

You felt numb, staring blankly at your floor while memories seemed to drown your mind.

“Do you ever feel like there’s something missing?” You asked quietly into the darkness. The arms around you tightened as Minho sucked in a deep breath, you knew he was frowning.

“What do you mean, darling? We have everything we could possibly need or want right here in this home.”

You didn’t disagree. You were happily married to the love of your life, three beautiful children sleeping peacefully just down the hall. You were safe from the wars raging in distant lands, your husband was far from being called to join, but yet you felt as if there was a space that was yet to be filled.

Sighing, you propped your chin up on Minho’s chest, squinting to see his face through the darkness.

“I think you know what I mean. I cannot explain it, but you must feel it too.”

You knew you and Minho were soulmates, you had no doubt about that, the endless shared memories in different worlds proved it well enough, but it almost felt as though that bond didn’t fully seal, despite everything.

“I think you should be worrying more about getting proper sleep so our child you're growing stays healthy than to worry on about something neither of us can actually explain, my love.”

Your hands slid down to your stomach, rubbing it as if second nature. You tried to ignore the pang in your heart now, knowing that what was missing in that memory was your second soulmate.

You got up from your spot on the couch, realizing it was already dark, and stumbling your way to the kitchen to make yourself some dinner.

“You two are never allowed in this kitchen again. I’m serious. How do you burn water?”

You and Jisung couldn’t stop giggling as you held each other, the both of you also confused as to how you’d managed that particular situation.

“Does that mean you’ll take care of us and cook for us every single day of the rest of our lives?” Jisung asked teasingly.

“If I did, it would only be to save our house from burning down.” Minho grumbled.

“Awe! Min loves us, Sungie!”

You and Jisung’s giggles started back up as you both took a side to sandwich your lover into a hug, heart fluttering when he didn’t reject it and instead wrapped his arms around you both to drag the two of you in tighter, nuzzling his face in the nook between you.

“Yes. I absolutely do.” Minho muttered into Jisungs shoulder.

You didn’t think soulmate bonds worked this fast. You were always under the impression that it took time for the memories to surface. You felt dizzy by the non-stop assault, heart swelling with love and breaking with loneliness at the same exact time.

The early morning light cast a gentle glow across the kitchen, the birds were chirping peacefully, and the welcome scent of fresh coffee was filling your house. But your morning was far from peaceful.

You had barely moved from your spot on the couch all night, refusing to lay in a bed that was half empty and unable to sleep while your husband was God knows where.

Jisung had stormed out last night, leaving you sobbing and took nothing but his keys. You weren’t even certain he’d come back at all unless it was to get his things, and it was honestly your fault.

You had always despised cheaters, they were amongst the worst kind of people in your mind, but when you’d met Minho, he drew you in the exact same way Jisung had. You couldn’t fathom how it was possible, you and Jisung were soulmates, you had loved your husband more than anything in the world, but you somehow also shared all of that with Minho.

You never should have hid it, Jisung was a kind and understanding man, he would have been willing to at least hear you out before leaving you, but instead he found some of Minho’s belongings in your shared home. You tried to explain it to him, but he wasn’t in the mind to listen, just repeatedly asking for your secret lovers name and leaving the second you’d finally uttered it, ignoring your pleading for him to stay.

The wedding band on your left hand felt heavy as you twisted it subconsciously, as if trying to remind yourself that Jisung was still your soulmate and still legally bound to you, you hadn't lost him. At least not yet.

You leaned against the counter, trying desperately to keep yourself from breaking down again as you stared at the extra mug you had subconsciously poured for your husband.

“Can you poor another one of those, Y/n?” You whipped around at the sudden voice, fear and love filling you at the same time at the sight of both Jisung and Minho standing in the doorway, holding hands. “I think it’s gonna be a long morning.”

Grabbing your laptop, you settle into your bed, looking up your best friends favorite band and throwing yourself into compilations of your soulmates. The proof of them being soulmates was glaringly obvious, the subtle glances and touches, the soft looks, all the little things that scream they're in love, you truly couldn’t comprehend how people could look at it and assume it’s all perfectly platonic.

The more you watched, the more you fell into a pit of confusion. You didn’t miss the endless amounts of fans claiming to be any of the members soulmates, claiming they remember things, that if they could just be given a chance to meet up, the members would see. It was glaringly obvious that if you’d tried to reach out, you’d just be marked off as another fan seeking a way in to the bands inner circle.

Memories continued to interfere with your research on your soulmates throughout the night, in between ‘Minsung’ edits and compilations of the whole band. You could see why your friend liked them so much. They were the type of band with a bond so tight it was obvious their loyalties lied with one another first and foremost. From what you knew of the K-pop industry, that wasn’t standard.

The more you watched, the more you started to recognize all of them from your memories, not just your soulmates. Tears pricked your eyes at the thought, the fact that this group of souls seemed drawn to each other in every lifetime, and you were supposed to be one of them.

A quick search proved that they’ve talked about it before. Not much, mostly only in small subtle jokes, like one of them saying they all clicked so well from the beginning cause it just felt like they already knew each other. It was never actually said outright, but the evidence that they all knew they were a friendship that transcends lifetimes was obvious to anyone seeking it.

You could feel your soul longing for its other parts, and you began to wonder if there were more of you out there. Soulmates of your other apparent friends who know exactly who their souls belong to, and know that in this lifetime they are essentially unattainable. Your heart aches at the thought that if that were the case, there are more people out there that are likely extremely important to you that you won’t get to meet in this lifetime.

That realization hits hard. The reality was you wouldn’t meet the loves of your life, you wouldn’t meet the friends you have endless memories with, and you’ll never remember the rest of those friends or get to learn their faces and the memories you hold with them in this lifetime.

Because soulmates are an unpredictable thing. Everyone has them, but you wouldn’t get to meet yours.

a/n: I’m sorry?😅 I’m really not🤧

Part 2: a life remembered

#minsung #minsung x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids #han jisung #stray kids fics #han jisung x reader #lee know #skz fanfic #skz x reader #lee know x reader #my world is in flames lol #soulmate au #no happy ending I’m sorry #poly!skz #poly!skz x reader #poly!minsung x reader

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wtfyangjungwon · 7 months

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call out my name.

member : lee heeseung

au : rockstarboyfriend!heeseung x rockstarpartner!reader

warnings : suggestive content , jealousy , use of the word " slut", suggestive smut , fluff, gn pronouns, non-proofread, no capitals intended

summary : heeseung and you were both in the same band, and it was the battle of the bands. the lead singer of the opposing band took it upon himself to flirt with you and heeseung did not like it one bit.

STORY UNDER CUT!

battle of the bands. a very important event for you and heeseung. the band, which consisted of you, heeseung, jake, jay and jungwon, had signed up for this battle, with an off chance of winning a record deal with ROCKHYBE Ent. you were the bassist of the band while heeseung was lead singer ; jake on the drums, jay on lead guitar and jungwon as the keyboardist.

the opposing group, ATLANTIC , has been a group your band has been going against for months. taken gigs, taken photo shoots , they did everything in their power to try and hurt the band's career.

ORANGE BLOOD, your band, has been given many chances to get a record deal but ATLANTIC would always take it.

heeseung was doing some warmups in the dressing room, while you tuned up your bass and fixed your clothes and your makeup. you noticed that your boyfriend was nervous, so you got up and set your bass down on the couch, moving towards him. you stand inbetween his legs ( as he was sat on the counter of the makeup desk) , and you placed your hands on his shoulders. " hee, everything will be okay. we got this. you got this. just do what you always do. " he looked up at you with big doe eyes and placed his hands on your waist. " i'm just nervous. i can't stand to lose them again. " he states and looks down.

you placed your index finger and thumb on his chin, lifting his face up. " you're amazing, my love. don't worry too much. " the man in front of you smiles and places a hand on the side of your neck and pulls you down, his lips meeting your own. it was a sweet kiss until his hand traveled down your body and to your waist, gripping it gently , his fingertips prodding into your skin.

the kiss quickly got heated, hands roaming everywhere. heeseung was about to slip his fingers into your shirt before a loud cough sounded from the other side of the room. you two pulled away from each other and looked into the direction of the cough. there stood jungwon, awkwardly looking at the two of you.

" it's time to go on stage. " he diverted his eyes from the two of you and left the room. you looked at heeseung with a smile and nodded.

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

after ORANGE BLOOD performed their set , the ending of their song, One in a Billion , sounded throughout the room. after the last note ended, you guys bowed to the crowd and walked off stage. heeseung's arm was around your waist and he held you close. you both were in the midst of talking about how hungry you were and trying to discuss what you both wanted after the event was over, just as the lead singer of ATLANTIC , yeonjun, walked up towards you two.

he had a sly smirk on his face and his eyes were immediately glued to you, his black hair falling in front of his face. " so she can play. the fingers look like they work wonders." the male said and looked you up and down. he then looked heeseung straight in the eyes and said, " too bad i can't have you at the moment. maybe i will see what those fingers can do, during the after party. " yeonjun smirked and shifted his eyes towards you. " see ya, sweet girl. " yeonjun then walked off towards his dressing room.

heeseung dug his fingers into your side and he bit down hard on his bottom lip. he grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the dressing room. he locked the door behind you and pinned you against the door. his breath ghosted your lips, and his thumb dragging across your bottom lip.

his eyes darted to your lips before crashing his lips into yours into a heated kiss. your lips molded perfectly together, like you were made for each other. his slender fingers wrapped around your neck, squeezing lightly, earning a small whimper from you.

he pulled away from you and looked at you with jealous, lust filled eyes. he kept his hand wrapped around your neck as your hands gripped his shirt. you both were breathing heavily and you looked up at him, smirking slightly.

" were you jealous, heeseung? " his name rolled off the tip of your tongue. he pulled you closer by your neck and his eyes searched your face.

" i'm going to fuck you endlessly against this wall and on every single piece of furniture in this room. you think you're slick? are you trying to be a slut?" he says and grits his teeth, as your smirk widened.

" you were jealous. "

" i'm going to make you call out my name so that everyone in this building knows who you belong to. scream it."

#enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen soft hours #enhypen as your boyfriend #enhypen smut

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dean-a-mean-tae · 7 months

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Need A Break | Stray Kids Extra Member AU

Everyone needs a break. A break from work, from school, or from life outside their blankets. Some people are not allowed breaks. Out of pressure from peers, parents, themselves. Setting a goal, a standard, that does more harm than good. All they need is a push in the right direction. | Little bit of Hyunjin x Nicholas

(@cafekitsune made the dividers) | Nicholas Ross Master List

Today wasn't different from the others. Everyone woke up at dawn, ready to start their busy schedule, hopefully eating something. The band was live with STAY again. They were always working on something. New albums, choreography, interviews, personal projects.

Nicholas wasn't any different, starting in the gym for an hour. After a quick shower, he checked on some of his members. Then he went to the company for vocal practice. His vocal coach and manager wanted him to try a higher note.

They made him practice repeatedly till his head hurt and his throat sore. They allowed him a break once he finally hit the note. Instead of taking that break, he had to go to dance practice.

Running as fast as he could, he slammed into the door and flopped back onto the ground with a groan. The door opened and Seungmin looked down at him with a grin. With Seungmin's help, Nicholas got up and found everyone inside smiling at him, standing in formation.

The room was bright, and the music was too loud. It made his head ache even harder.

Once practice ended, they showered and gathered at the Maknae + Minho's dorm and went live. Everyone was spread throughout the living room. On the couch sat Jeongin, Seungmin, Minho and Jisung. In front of them on the floor were Felix, Chan, Changbin, and Hyunjin. Nicholas lay across their laps with his head tucked into Felix's stomach, completely silent.

Usually, he was loud. Teasing the others and moving around the members, like musical chairs.

But today, everything was loud. Changbin's yelling was too loud, Jisung's laugh was too loud, and Jeongin's foot tapping the floor was too loud. The ceiling was spinning; the lights got brighter. Felt like someone was pounding on his forehead while playing the dog whistle videos in his ear.

Even the fans noticed.

A weight against his back made Nicholas look behind him. Hyunjin lay on him, chest on his back. Face nearly pressed into his cheek when he looked up. They rolled off the others' legs onto the floor, nearly colliding with the table.

"Where are you taking me?!" Nicholas huffed, flailing his arms at the laughing members. They merely moved away, laughing as he started whining.

"You look like you need a hug," Hyunjin whispered, laying directly on Nicholas' back with his face tucked into his neck.

"Look how tiny Hyunjin is!" Felix laughed, joined by several others. "Nick looks squished under him." It was Jeongin that time pointed at a giggling Hyunjin and a quiet Nicholas.

After a moment, Hyunjin went to get up, only to be shoved over. Nicholas leaned over him with a grin before flopping down, ignoring the grunt from Hyunjin.

"Just let me lay here for a bit," Nick whispered. Sighing in content, Hyunjin began playing with his hair.

Technically, they were still working, but Nicholas felt warmth having a brief break with one of his best friends.

Nicholas Ross Master list

©️DEANAMEANTAE2023

Tags list: …

#deantae nicholas ross #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member #skz x male reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz x 9th member #skz imagines #skz x oc #stray kids with the 9th member #stray kids x oc #stray kids extra member #stray kids x male reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x male reader #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin

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blouisparadise · 2 months

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Upon request, today we have a rec list of bottom Louis fics where either Louis or Harry has amnesia. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Finding Thoughts | Teen & Up | 6,810 words

"Hi, my name is Louis Tomlinson and I suffer from short term memory loss."

2) Our Love Was Made For Movie Screens. | Not Rated | 8,106 words

Harry wakes up and doesn't know anything about anything and Louis is his omega.

3) Cause I’m Really Not Fine At All | Mature | 13,679 words

Louis Tomlinson, one of the famous members of One Direction, is involved in a car accident that caused him to have amnesia, wiping all the last five years of his life from the memory. The interesting part is he may not remember that he has a girlfriend now, yet his mind seems to think that he has been in a relationship with one of the members, Harry Styles. Harry is baffled and shocked at the situation that's thrown in his face. He finds himself learning how to be a good boyfriend for Louis. It has to be easy.. right?

4) Indestructible | Explicit | 24,243 words

“Hi,” Harry murmurs, and Louis hiccups out a sob. “Hi,” he manages, still clutching onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s fingers drift across Louis’ cheeks, and there’s something off about Harry’s expression, but Louis can’t figure out what it is. “I’m okay,” Harry says, and Louis is going to say something to that, even if he doesn’t know what, except Harry’s kissing him. Louis freezes.

5) The Way This River Runs | Explicit | 27,417 words

Louis is provided a chance to start over. He takes it.

6) Deleted Scenes | Explicit | 33,623 words

Agent Harry Styles was injured on the job a few months back, and gets roped in one last mission before he can retire prematurely: playing house with Louis, a widower who has amnesia. The assignment seems simple at the beginning, but soon enough Harry's twisted in a web of his own making, and can't get out anymore.

7) Just A Pretty Boy | Explicit | 35,614 words

The alpha in front of him wasn’t only tall, but used every inch of his body to look even more threatening. He looked as shocked as Joseph felt, in his eyes he could clearly see horror and anger mixed into an odd and painful mix. It was as if he just watched a ghost or a monster from a nightmare come to life. “Louis…” he said with a low voice. It wasn’t a question, he was calling Joseph by that name. The crease between Joseph’s brows deepened. “Who?” Louis and Harry were married until, one day, Louis passed away in a tragic accident. Years later, he is found alive and with a thousand questions plaguing his mind. The most important ones; was his husband involved in his disappearance? And, how long did it take Harry and his best friend to fall in love after his supposed dead?

8) The Things I’d Do To Wake Up Next To You | Mature | 36,109 words

AU. Harry wakes up to a pregnant Louis Tomlinson and a wedding band on his finger.

9) Strangers In Love | Explicit | 42,207 words

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

10) Define Me Again | Mature | 54,385 words

He's never felt so frightened in his life before, so fucking terrified for himself. And Louis. He looked down at their hands, which seemed to have been connected throughout the incident. He looked at the ring on Louis' hand, for the nth time that day. His heart hurt so bad now, he was terrified. He wanted to do so many things, he wanted to check on louis, if he- if he- God he couldn't even think about it. "Louis," he tried to whisper, but nothing but air came out from his mouth. "I love you, Harry," whispered a voice. But it was nowhere near him. Visions attacked his mind, rapidly flickering through like one would do the pages of a book. He was terrified. His entire life literally flashed in his mind, vision growing more and more weak and he fought unconsciousness. Memories and the picture of Louis lying unconscious in front of him altered and flickered, so rapidly that he felt dizzy with how fast his mind was whirring. What happens when you die? God he was so, so, so, fucking terrified. All his senses gave out, last thing he felt was Louis' hand in his and then, everything went black.

11) Flash Back To Me | Explicit | 73,068 words | Prequel

Louis narrows his eyes, wanting more than anything to tell Liam to go fuck himself, but he can’t be sure, is the thing. As much as he knows for a fact that he would never date someone like Harry Styles, he has months missing from his memory. And it’s scary to think that, in that time, everything he’s come to know about himself could have changed so drastically.

12) Consequences | Explicit | 78,556 words

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

13) Invisible String | Explicit | 84,726 words

Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car. This strange alpha also happens to be the most beautiful being Louis has laid his eyes on. For some unknown reason, the omega feels safe around the alpha. It might seem strange, but you can't always explain why or how things are the way they are. All you can really be sure of is that they happen for a reason. There's a higher power (call it what you want) that knows better and definitely knows more than you do.

14) The Dead Of July | Explicit | 117,446 words

Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp fic recs #amnesia

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nyxoz · 2 years

Note

Miss you sex after Eddie comes back from tour

Rockstar!Eddie x You

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Smut, Oral Sex (F), Vaginal fingering, P in V sex, Swearing, Semi-Public Sex, Unprotected Sex, Rockstar AU.

Corroded Coffin's final show of their national tour is in Indianapolis.

It has been three months since you’ve seen Eddie. You visited him once in New York but other than that you’ve lived off letters and the occasional phone call when you can both get a chance.

You’ve missed him more than you could have imagined. You sleep in the shirts he left behind, spray your pillow with his cologne, and use his body wash just so you can feel close to him. You have pictures of him stuck to your wall and your fridge and in your purse. There’s one in the sun visor of your car too. All the letters he’s sent are in a shoe box under your bed, you read over them on the days that you really miss him.

You and the crew, Dustin, Steve, and Robin pile into Steve’s car and make the few hours' drive to Indianapolis. The drive is anything but uneventful. First off, Dustin discovers he gets car sick and proceeds to puke in a bag for the first hour, you guys end up stopping for 20 minutes so he can catch his breath. Secondly, about one and a half hours in you get a flat tire and spend the next 45 minutes sitting on the side of the highway trying to change it. Thirdly, Steve made you listen to French language tapes the whole way because he’s recently met a French girl and wants to impress her.

So, to say you’re happy when you see the venue come into view is an understatement.

Because of your extremely eventual drive, you don’t get to the show until ten minutes before it’s starting. By the time you find a park and get inside the venue, the opening band is saying goodbye and announcing Eddie and his crew on stage. You wanted to see Eddie before they went on stage, you wanted to jump in his arms and hug and kiss him hello and wish him luck. But now you’re stuck watching him from the VIP section wishing you could touch him.

The show goes fast, you’re screaming and yelling the lyrics to every song. Jumping up and down with Robin and doing air guitar with Dustin.

As Eddie and the band take their final bow on stage, you and the others are ushered by Gillian, a member of Corroded Coffin’s team, (because they have a team now which is still insane to you) and are taken backstage.

The room they’ve left you in is actually a locker room. They’re playing at a football stadium, so the locker room has become the post-show party ground.

There are tables with food and drink lining the walls and people you don’t recognise mingling around you. Dustin and Robin are stealing as much food as they can and Steve has started chatting up a beautiful girl with dark skin and locks so long they touch her butt.

You stand there with your arms wrapped around yourself, staring at the entrance and waiting for Eddie to walk through it. And as if God himself was listening, the door opens and reveals the whole band, Eddie behind them all. They’re all sweaty and their clothes are sticking to their skin.

As they enter the room, everyone erupts in cheers, yelling and clapping in congratulations.

The boys hoot and cheer along, high-fiving people as they walk past.

You stare at Eddie, waiting for him to notice you.

As his bandmates begin walking off in different directions, his line of vision hits you.

His eyes go wide and the smile on his face breaks even wider. He all but runs toward you, arms open wide and ready to hold you as close as possible.

You laugh as he picks you up, spinning you around and pressing you close to his sweaty body. He squeezes you tight and lets your feet hit the ground.

He pulls away a bit to see your face, both his hands coming up to hold your cheeks.

“Hi.” He says.

You laugh again, “Hi.”

He leans in for a kiss and it’s almost desperate. Your arms wind around his neck and pull him as close as he can get.

“Get a room!” Gareth yells.

Wolf whistles echo around the room and you pull away, shyly hiding your face in Eddie’s neck.

“Fuck off.” Eddie says, holding the back of your head and patting your side with his other hand.

Your face is tacky with his drying sweat as you pull away and Eddie’s hand comes to push the hair sticking to your face behind your ear. He keeps staring at you, big brown eyes so filled with love it makes you breathless.

Before you can say anything else, someone comes up to Eddie to congratulate him. And once one person comes, it seems everyone else thinks this is an invitation to talk with him.

You stay by his side, holding onto his arm through each conversation. You don’t care if you look clingy, you’ve missed him too much.

Eddie’s talking cheerfully with everyone but he keeps flicking his eyes down to you every now and then, like he’s checking that you’re still here. He pulls his arm from your grip and drapes it over your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

He turns his head to kiss the top of your head and continues with his conversation.

You feel at home in his arms. The last few months have been lonely.

“If you can excuse us for a second.” Eddie says to the man in front of you both.

Walking in front of you, he grabs your hand and pulls you along through the crowd of people.

“Where ya going?” Gareth calls out as you pass him. “Sneaking off is rude y’know!”

Eddie doesn’t bother to reply to him, just keeps pulling you till you’re out of the locker room and down the hall.

“Eddie!” You laugh, “Where are we going?”

He pushes a door open to some random room and pulls you in, closing the door behind you.

You look around the room and see it’s the exercise therapy room. There are two massage tables in the middle of the room and the air vaguely smells of tiger balm or some other massage lotion.

Eddie grabs at your hips and crowds you against the door, “Just wanted to be alone with you.” He kisses your cheek and then kisses the other, “Fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, pretty boy.”

He leans down to rub his nose against yours.

“You were so good tonight. My big rockstar.” You praise. Your hand comes up and tucks some hair behind his ear, “So proud of you.”

Eddie smiles sheepishly and his cheeks pinken. He leans down and presses his lips against yours and you melt into him. Your arms snake around his neck and pull him closer to you.

His lips move to kiss just beside your mouth and work their way along your jaw and down your neck. Little sighs leave you as he sucks a mark just below your ear.

He chuckles, “Missed the sounds you make. Thought about them every time I fucked my hand.”

“Yeah?”

His thigh moves in between your legs, pushing against your crotch and you mewl.

“Pretty pretty girl with her pretty pretty sounds.” He sings into your ear, his voice gravely from the show. His thigh pushes up harder against your pussy and you feel the warm wetness that’s covered your panties.

You moan filthy and long, making Eddie smile against your neck.

The hands on your hips pull you forward as he takes a few steps backwards. He keeps guiding, his lips not leaving your neck, before he spins you both around and your back is suddenly pressed against the massage table. His hands on your hips, come down to land just below your bum and help you sit up on the edge of the table.

Eddie drops to his knees in front of you, his head the perfect height at your groin. His hands slide up your legs, over your thighs and up to the button on your jeans.

He unbuttons and unzips them. You lift your hips and he wiggles them and your underwear down your form until they bunch at your sneakers.

“Can’t wait to taste you.” He says as he pulls off your shoes and then pulls your jeans and panties off.

You sit there with your legs open wide, pussy on display, leaning back on your hands and watching him intently. His left-hand holds onto your knee, pushing it wider while his other hand reaches up to your glistening cunt. His calloused and ringed fingers slide between your slit, lapping up your juices. You shudder at the first contact, head dropping back and eyes closing. His fingers circle your clit, pressing tenderly against the nub.

“So wet already, baby.” Eddie murmurs.

“Hmm. Just missed you so much.” You reply, breathing in deep as his fingers start to go a little faster.

“Tell me, princess, all those nights alone, without me,” his fingers trail down your folds and tease at your entrance, “did you touch yourself thinking ‘bout me?” his middle finger pushes into you and you clench around him.

“Yeah.” You breathe out.

He slowly fucks you with the one finger, “What’d you think about?”

“Your cock splitting me open,” You admit, “Fucking me till you fill me up.”

“Oh!” Eddie exclaims, his hand on your thigh reaching up to your stomach, pressing down on it, “Want me to fill you up till this cute little belly is full of my come?” He teases.

His fingers curl up, pressing along your walls, along the textured spot that has you trying to force your legs shut.

“Nuh-uh-uhh.” He sings, bringing his hand back down to force your legs open.

You look down at him and he smiles up at you as he leans forward. His mouth is an inch away from your pussy, you feel his hot breath hitting your core and it makes goosebumps rise over you.

Slowly Eddie closes the distance and plants an almost sweet kiss against your centre as his fingers continue to thrust into you.

You whine at the contact and he chuckles against you. Without warning his tongue sticks out, working its way between your folds and lapping at your clit.

“Oh god.” You moan, watching his face as it’s buried between your thighs. His eyes flicker up at you and they’re so dark you can barely see his beautiful honey-brown hues.

He adds a second finger, scissoring you open as he feasts on your clit, sucking and toying with it. One of your hands flies up from behind you to grab onto Eddie’s hair. He groans in approval as you use your grip to pull him harder against you.

You start grinding down onto his face, feeling his tongue and nose pushing against you and his fingers fucking up into you. Your core tightens with your release, and you moan out a cry as it tips over the edge and coasts Eddie’s tongue.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” You cry.

Eddie moans against you and continues licking and fucking you until you’re frantically pulling his head away by his hair from overstimulation.

As you look down at him with glassy eyes, you see your release glistening on his face and he pulls his fingers out from you and licks them clean.

“Fucking perfect.” He says.

You grab at his face and hoist him up to his feet, bringing his lips to yours in a desperate kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue as he licks into your mouth and groans into his mouth.

“See how good you taste, baby? Can't believe I went so long without it.”

You nod dumbly as you chase after his lip again. You bring your hands to his waistband, skillfully unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. Slowly you trail a hand down his abdomen, scratching at the soft skin and coarse hair. Eddie sighs into your mouth as you take him in hand.

You waste no time and hold him firmly, stroking up his length and before thumb at his tip, collecting the dribble of precome. You pull your hand out and bring your now sticky thumb up to your mouth and suck on it. Eddie watches mesmerised as you lap up the saltiness.

“God, you’re a fucking dream.” He mumbles almost to himself.

You keep eye contact with him as you lay down against the table, and shuffle up a little with your legs wide and cunt on display. Eddie gets the message and instantly pushes his pants down below his ass and jumps up onto the massage table. He crawls between your legs and kisses a line from the top of your cunt all the way up your stomach. He stops at your breasts and kisses the right one before sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You reach a hand up and grab at his hair, little sighs leaving your mouth. His skilful tongue laps at the nub, before his teeth tease it with small nibbles. He pulls off and starts kissing up your chest until he’s at your neck and then he pushes up so he’s hovering over your face and smiles down at you sweetly.

You keep looking into each other’s eyes as he grabs at his cock and guides it towards your entrance. The mushroom head of his cock breaches your hole, the nice stretch burns in the best way possible. Your chest heaves as he pushes in inch by inch, eyes not leaving one another.

As Eddie bottoms out, he presses his forehead against yours and your eyelashes kiss each other with small flutters. You missed this so fucking much. Missed the closeness with him. The love spills out from both of you as you stare at each other.

His arms come to either side of your head to hold himself up.

You reach your hands up till they’re around his neck, and bring your legs around his body, feet digging into his ass. You want him as close as you can get him. You need him as close as possible or you think you might die.

He pulls out slowly and you whimper at the slide of his cock against your wet walls. He pulls all the way out before pushing back in just as carefully. The first few thrusts stay that way, slow and long, almost like he’s trying to remember how you feel.

His movements soon become a bit more frantic. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes throughout the room. He pounds hard into you, pushing deep inside you and hitting that spot that has you clenching around him and gasping against his mouth.

You whine as he pushes deep into you, grounding his hips in sharp small thrusts.

“You like that, baby?”

You nod deliriously, almost squeaking with each movement.

“Missed fucking this sweet cunt. Reckon it was made for my cock.” His gravelly voice says above you.

His arm snakes down your body, his fingers dancing over the top of your crotch before they slide over your clit. He rubs it in time with his thrusts. The balls of your feet dig into his ass as you wither beneath him in pure ecstasy.

Your eyes are wide as you stare up at him, your mouth open as you breathe deeply. Eddie smiles down at you, nodding along meanly at each of your little cries.

Tears prick at your eyes as he keeps toying with your clit.

He rubs his nose against yours, staring into your eyes deeply.

The heat in your core starts to build again, making your toes and fingers flex in anticipation. His circling on your clit becomes more furious as his hips begin to stutter a bit, losing their rhythm.

Your body tenses as your orgasm rolls over you and you pull Eddie down for a searing kiss. He bites at your lip and pulls back before letting go. You moan out his name over and over, tears now streaming down your face.

Eddie drops his head against your forehead, “Love you. Fuck. I love you.” He says, as his orgasm pushes through him and he fills you up.

You feel his come coat your walls and his hips begin to slow their motion before stopping completely, buried deep inside you.

You both breathe heavy, your warm breaths mixing together as you stare at each other. You have a satisfied smile on your face as you stare up at him lovingly.

He leans down and presses a chaste kiss on your lips before leaning back and pulling out of you. You wince at the loss and slowly sit up.

Eddie pulls his jeans and boxers up, zipping them before grabbing your clothes for you.

Slowly you get redressed, a little woozy from the intense orgasms. When you finally have your pants and shoes on Eddie grabs at your face and turns it up to look at him.

“You good?” He asks.

You nod, “So good. I love you.”

Eddie’s eyes crinkle at the edges as he smiles widely. “I love you too.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #joseph quinn #oz writes #oz writes eddie munson #nxyoz

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katerina-marie · 29 days

Text

The Beach Episode (Romantic Sunday)

Sukuna x Reader

You and Satoru are supposed to be filming a short ad on the beach, but your blue-eyed costar has a habit of never showing up on time. What happens when a certain tattooed, pink-haired band member surprises you with a visit? You frolic in the ocean of course!

Notes: A celebrity!au that popped into my head while listening to Romantic Sunday by Car, the Garden and would not leave. While this is a Sukuna x Reader fic, other characters do play minor roles and may have brief POVs. This fic is pending in my head as a chapter in a larger work that chronicles reader's and Sukuna's developing relationship and is inspired by other scenarios that come to be while listening to music, but nothing is concrete. Since that's so, Sukuna and reader's relationship isn't explicitly defined but is certainly past friendship.

Word Count: 5.3k

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo (he's picked on, but I love him so please don't take offense), other favorites who have small supporting rolls, all fluff, crack, and humor, includes an innuendo or two, but other wise PG/PG-13, out of character Sukuna (he's so fluffy).

P.S. I've used a line from a favorite TV show back in my teen years. Let me know if you recognize it!

——————————————————————————————————

“Well…you did say you wanted to go to the beach, Kento. Look where we are!”

Your teasing tone and amused grin did nothing to budge the frustrated scowl off the face of your manager. If anything, it drove the furrow between his eyebrows that much further, and you swore a vein in his forehead started to throb.

“A vacation, actually,” Nanami began, sending you a pointed look that said he knew exactly what you were playing at, “in Malaysia…on a beach…by myself.”

You tutted at him before giving him a dainty smile and settling further into your makeup chair, “I was only trying to make you laugh, Kento.”

In your opinion, laughing and smiling was something Nanami Kento seldom did but often should. Whether it was a personal standard he held himself to or some other form of ritual torture, your manager stuck to a strict dress code no matter where he went. Case in point, on a beach in the middle of the summer, Nanami was clothed in his usual suit, tie and dutifully styled hair in tow. The only indication that he planned for the environment you all would spend the day in was the thick white stripes of sunscreen pasted on the sharp angle of his nose and over the apples of his cheeks. Whether he intentionally matched the color of his tan suit to the sand under your feet was anyone’s best guess. You hesitated to ask, a mercy for Kento if you did say so yourself, if only because he looked one wrong word away from throwing himself in the ocean, and not in a way that indicated any fun would be had.

As if privy to your thoughts, he released a drawn out sigh and crossed his legs in his own chair across from you. He took a quick glimpse at the time on his phone and shook his head.

Poor Kento. He really did deserve that vacation. And honestly, you did appreciate and acknowledge his dedication to his craft—and you, by extension.

“I’m sorry,” Nanami murmured, an apologetic softening of his eyes making his whole expression smooth out, “my frustrations are not towards you, I assure you. I’m confident you could guess at whom my ire is directed at currently.”

You snorted. “Well, of course I c—,”

“That blue-eyed bastard is late again!”

The flap of your makeup tent was thrown back with enough force that you were surprised it hadn’t ripped clean down its seam. Your overgrown tree of a bodyguard had a habit of “forgetting” the strength and stature that made him so adept at his job and simply enjoyed his ability to throw any object—or person—around as he pleased.

You scowled at Toji for interrupting you and watched as he stomped over to stand next to you and Nanami with a pout that pulled at the, frankly, appealing scar at the corner of his mouth. Between that, his eyes that looked as if they knew every secret you ever had and shaggy black hair that probably needed a cut, Toji posed both an intimidating and handsome figure. That was besides the point though and not that it mattered much to you. He had a son that was a friend of your friend and only a couple years younger than you. Not that Toji looked it one bit.

“Satoru hasn’t been heard from, I presume?”

Toji and Nanami both leveled you with a deadpan look and answered you at the same time with the same disgruntled voice, “no.”

You threw your head back in exasperation and instantly regretted it when you were reminded of the dozens of pins holding your styled hair in place as they all poked you quite viciously in the back of the head. You winced and raised your hand to rub at the sore spot, only to have it slapped away by a member of the hair and makeup team to prevent you from mussing it further. You crossed your arms with a huff and slouched further into your chair.

“You look like you’re having fun,” Toji remarked, his smirk full of sarcasm and twisted amusement. “I think they missed a spot with your makeup though.”

You found no humor in the waving of his hand as one of his fingers circled the entirety of your face in the air in front of it, nor were you concerned with the false insinuation that you looked anything other than well put together. Now, the chance of said makeup sliding right off your face as soon as you stepped into the late afternoon sun? Plausible, but best left to the worries of the experts.

“Toji,” you crooned, voice cloyingly sweet but eyeing him with a sharp glare he was surely well acquainted with, “we’re at the beach. Why don’t you, oh I don’t know, go play in the ocean and swim with the fish? Or, do you want to build a sandcastle?”

The smug grin he was wearing fell clean off his face and was replaced with an ugly pinch of his nose.

“Hell no, I hate sand! The damned stuff always gets everywhere no matter what I do. In my socks, my sandwich, the crack of my a—,”

“Enough!”

Nanami’s exclamation was loud and angry enough that it caused you and Toji both to jump and effectively ended whatever crude tale he was about to subject the crowd in the tent to.

“I’m going to go call Geto and see where the hell his client is.”

Nanami stood and brushed any bits of sand from his suit. Not that anyone could tell if there had been any in the first place.

“You,” he added, pointing in your direction, “will get dressed so that once I finish ripping Gojo’s manager a new one, we can talk with the director of this damned affair and see if we can get any film done with just you while we wait.”

Without leaving any room for protest or discussion, Nanami was gone with a flutter of a tent flap and you were left making wide eyes at your equally stunned bodyguard. There was silence and stillness for a beat of time before Toji shrugged and movement about the tent resumed again.

“Well,” he drawled, “that’s my cue to leave. I’m off to go guard some bodies and what not.” His eyebrows danced and his eyes flashed, not in the least deterred by your annoyed stare.

“We’re on a closed off, private beach, Toji. There’s no one here for you to throw out.”

He was unbothered and took a few sauntering steps back towards the entrance of the tent.

“Still, I wouldn’t want you to think I was slacking on the job and quit paying me. Have fun getting dressed, Princess.”

Toji ignored the baring of your teeth and left just as quickly as Nanami did. You blew out a resigned sigh as you took a peek at the mountain of lace, fabric, and strings that hung from a corner of the tent and decided at that moment that you wished it was Toji being stuffed into a dress and primped within an inch of his life.

“He’s going to charm his way back into the refreshment tent and pass out,” you grumbled, and oh yes, that was seething jealousy you held for your bodyguard. Someone chuckled behind you, but was quick to prompt you to stand and disrobe.

Really, it couldn’t be that bad…right?

——————————————————————————————————

Some suspiciously placed tape, three assistants, and nearly forty five minutes later would prove you to be exceptionally wrong. Lace sleeves had been tugged up against sweaty arms, the strings at the back of your dress that held it together had been pulled and tied so tightly that you were hesitant to move too suddenly for fear of busting it, and the pins in your hair had been removed to let it lay as styled. You were one moment of heat induced lightheadedness away from falling over into the sand, and there would be no getting up after that. There was fabric clinging and swishing against your legs and you thought you had seen a train at the back of the dress, though that made no sense to you at all given what was planned to happen in front of a camera.

“Please,” you begged to anyone in the room that would listen. “Can I be done now? If I don’t get a breath of fresh air, I’m going to pass out.”

Your wish was acquiesced, and with the promise to not mess anything up, you made your great escape out of the tent and towards the edge of the ocean before anyone could change their mind. There was no need for any more hair to be pinned, makeup to be touched up, or fabric draped.

The water that went on endlessly for miles in front of you was a light blue and mostly calm in its movement for the day. Sandy beach on either side of you stretched out until you could just barely see it transition into rocky cliffs that helped form its crescent shape. If one could ignore the highway and paved parking lot a couple minutes walk behind you, it was almost like you were on a secluded island paradise.

Though the sun was still hot, the fresh air was successful in clearing your mind, and the salted mist of the water was enough to help balm the warmth under your dress. The multiple tents strewn across the sand each served their own niche purpose with people popping in and out of them all day. There was chatter about, people hustling from one side of the camped setup to the other and cameras placed strategically to capture whatever commercial or short that you and Satoru were supposed to film. However, no one paid you much mind at the moment, and you sidled up to where the water met the sand, dress held above your ankles so the waves could tickle your feet.

“Don’t you look pretty.”

Elated surprise made your heart leap at the sound of a familiar voice, and you whipped around with excitement written all over your face to meet the eyes of the handsome man behind you.

“Sukuna! What are you doing here?”

The man in question grinned, his expression half mischievous and maybe the slightest bit bashful, though no one would dare point it out. His pink hair was pushed back into its normal style, but due to the humidity, random pieces drooped down his forehead and into his eyes slightly. His tattoos were on full display in the tank top and swim trunks he was wearing. Every bit of him was a sight for your sore eyes. Sukuna opened his arms for you and it took only a moment of hesitancy before you stepped into them for a quick hug.

“Yuji and Choso wanted to go for a drive since the day was nice, and naturally Fushiguro tagged along. Coincidentally though, Yuji had us drive along the highway behind the setup you all got going on and ‘poof,’ here we are.”

You pulled back from Sukuna as he finished his sentence and gave him a small, happy wiggle of your shoulders. You made a note to remember how you felt his fingers dancing down languidly over the lace covering your arm and swirling gently around the edge of the sleeve that came to a point on the back of your hand before letting his arm fall back against his side.

“Well, I’m glad the four of you made it, coincidence or not,” you quipped at him. Your eyes still hadn’t left his and you knew it was going to be a struggle to wipe what had to be a lovestruck grin off your lips.

“You sure about that?”

Sukuna laughed and threw a hand back over his shoulder, gesturing towards what your eyes followed and found to be the refreshment tent. What you saw had you doubling over in laughter, or at least as far as you could in your dress.

Yuji and Choso, Sukuna’s brothers and bandmates, were struggling to stifle giggles as they hovered over a hulking figure laid out in a chaise underneath a misting fan. As you predicted, Toji was dead asleep, mouth agape and a half eaten cheeseburger dangling from a hand resting on his chest. What really set the whole thing apart was the way Yuji and Choso were surreptitiously trying to see how many french fries they could place in Toji’s mouth before he either woke up or started to choke when one inevitably fell back down his throat. In the corner, Megumi stood watching with barely concealed glee and a phone in his hand capturing the whole ordeal. You assumed that no matter what way this went, Megumi was bound to come out of it on top with either the joy of having comedic blackmail to hold over his father’s head or the pleasure of getting to watch him beat his friend’s asses. In the best case scenario, it was both.

You recovered from your laughter with a shake of your head and a measly deep breath before turning back to Sukuna. It was sucked right back out of you when you found his eyes trailing up from the tips of your toes, lingering at where the dress cinched your waist and then at the lace scalloping your chest before finally coming up to meet your eyes. His gaze was half lidded and heavier than usual, and it set your cheeks aflame in a way that you could never pass off as from the sun. He smirked when you stuttered over some inarticulate noise that had escaped your mouth, and you were about to take a giant step back to compose yourself when his face eventually softened. Sukuna offered you a quick wink, not so devious and more contrite than anything else, though it didn’t seem to affect your racing pulse any less, and then continued his tirade as he hooked his pinky finger around a lock of hair framing your eyes.

Somewhere in the back of your head choirs were singing and clouds were parting, but all you could think about was the hint of black polish on his nails that you spotted out of your peripheral and the growing number of people you could see beginning to take interest in the way Sukuna towered over you and how you didn’t seem to mind. You finally made space between the two of you by pressing your knuckles against his chest with just enough pressure to send the message. He obeyed and returned the small smile you sent his way to soften the gesture.

“So,” he started, his hands set deep in his pockets and a rock to his heels that would make anyone else look nervous, “what are you all waiting around for?”

Thankful for conversation to focus on, you threw your hands up to convey that you were just as confused as he was and followed it up with what you made to sound like the most logical and obvious explanation in the world;

“Sa-to-ru is late. Again.”

At the first enunciated syllable of Satoru’s name to leave your mouth, a corner of Sukuna’s nose quivered in disdain and he rolled his eyes in a way that was clearly disparaging, yet you found weakened your knees.

“Tell me about it. He most likely forgot or got caught up w—,”

The most ungracious snort left Sukuna’s nose, and you were so taken aback by the fact that it happened, and let alone found it attractive, that you missed whatever he had hissed under his breath.

“Tied up is probably more like it.”

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing important.”

His voice was too intentionally innocent and his face suspiciously cleared of any ill will for you to believe an ounce of what he said, but there was no chance in getting Sukuna to admit anything he didn’t want to, and you were more preoccupied with getting that look from earlier back in his eyes. So with that, you meandered back a few steps into the water and waited.

“So, tell me, what brilliant songwriting have you been up to, oh esteemed ‘King of Curses’, or is that strictly confidential, band member-only info?”

You knew asking Sukuna, or even Yuji or Choso, about their wildly popular band ‘The Curses’ was a sure fire way to get them talking about their shared passion, and it always brought a smile to your face to see them so excited. You expected the same now, but were caught off guard when Sukuna stumbled over the step he took to follow you and the brief way his face shuttered blank before he recovered. That act alone would have been enough to put an end to your flirty intentions—because you just knew that nickname of his got him riled up whenever it came out of your mouth—but the sensation of fabric being pulled tight against the back of your legs had you stopped. A quick glance down into the water confirmed that he had stepped on your dress and the extra fabric was beginning to swirl around his calves.

So that’s what the train was for! A devious, delicious idea began to form in your head and you knew you had only one chance to make it happen.

You glanced up at Sukuna through your eyelashes (he struggled to recall in that moment if they had always been that long or if it was the makeup making his mind fuzzy) and cocked your head gently to one side before beginning a slow prowl around him.

“What, no love songs or epic tales of star crossed romance have emerged from that practice studio of yours lately? Don’t tell me a cat has got your tongue?”

Ever focused on the way your lips curled into a sultry smile and the feather-light drag of your finger along the top of his shorts at his hip, Sukuna was unusually quiet as he followed you with his eyes. You began to pass behind his back and your circle was nearly halfway complete.

“Su-ku-na,” you called when you received no answer, watching as he gave a shake of his head as if to clear a haze from it.

“Quit being a brat and distracting me!”

There was no malice in his tone, but you could tell that he was being truthful. You had completed your circle and came to stand in front of him once again.

“I’m just waiting for you to answer my question,” you sing-songed.

Sukuna’s mouth stuttered open for a second and nothing came out before he finally seemed to collect himself, “No! No love songs, no sappy lyrics, and no star crossed romance. Who do you take me for?”

Your peals of laughter that followed his blurted response floated about the beach and seemed to soothe whatever had come over him in the last couple of minutes. In a haste, you cast a glance down at his legs to check that everything was in place.

“I’m just playing with you, Sukuna,” you cooed at him, “there’s no need to get defensive.”

His eyes narrowed and you watched with glee as he pulled himself up to his full height, leaned down into your face, and let a haughty smirk tug the corners of his mouth.

“You don’t want to play with me, Sweetheart. I. Play. Rough.”

“Hmm, you think so?”

You let a delicate, breathy sigh brush up against his mouth from yours while you arched your back slightly to press your chest against his. Sensing you had Sukuna’s full attention, you smoothed your leg between his to let the side of your foot trace oh so gently over the bone in his ankle. His breath hitched, and in the same moment you tipped your head back to close a fraction of distance between your lips, you also tightened your fingers in the furls of your dress.

“Really,” you whispered, “somehow I think that I play rougher.”

Yank.

Since he was already off balance when you ripped the fabric of your dress out and around from under his feet, it only took a quick sweep of your foot against Sukuna’s leg to keep the momentum going and to dump him and his gobsmacked expression into the knee-deep water of the ocean. You jumped back to avoid as much of the splash as you could, and in the same heartbeat, you lifted your dress and took off in the direction of the tents set back on the shore. Your plan was a success.

There were two oversights on your part, however, that became all too clear in the couple seconds after this monumental event took place.

One, the amount of water your dress accumulated and how much it now slowed you down due to its weight and tangle in your legs.

Two, which you really should have anticipated if you thought back on it, was the unbelievable amount of speed and agility with which Sukuna pushed himself out of the water, set a borderline maniacal look upon you that promised glorious retribution (you would have to question yourself later as to why this sent shivers down your back and warmth to places you would rather not think about), and thus began an inhumanly quick sprint towards you.

So, naturally, you did what any independent, perfectly capable woman would do; you screamed at the top of your lungs bloody murder for your bodyguard and high tailed it out of the ocean.

——————————————————————————————————

The first thing Toji wondered upon being awoken by the screams of a dying woman was why his mouth was full of french fries. He sputtered on the cold and soggy pieces in his mouth as he leapt from the chaise he had barely remembered falling asleep on and frantically looked out towards the water to see what fate he had let come upon you. Toji was certain there were only two possibilities.

One: he had fallen asleep on the job and you were now being eaten by a shark.

Two: he had fallen asleep on the job and you were now drowning in the ocean.

To his sleep addled brain, which was currently working through the onslaught of you shrieking his name, either option had an equally probable likelihood of occurring. The outcome, however? In both scenarios, there was only one logical conclusion. He was getting fired.

With that thought in mind, he started the process of becoming your own personal search and rescue. All in a flurry of forward movement, he kicked off his shoes, dropped the crumpled half eaten cheeseburger from his grasp, and flailed his hand around in his pocket to locate his wallet. He was not about to let his most important possession be lost to the tides—especially with the encroaching threat of unemployment looming over his head—and was about to seriously consider dropping his shorts to the ground altogether when he heard your screams reach a sudden pitch and then descend into hysterical laughter.

Toji took that as a sign to further scope out the situation in front of him and after rubbing sleep and sand from his eyes, he could now better understand that you weren’t actually in mortal danger. You were just flirting.

With the adrenaline that was previously coursing through his body now taking a sudden nosedive, Toji staggered back into the tent to plop onto his previously occupied chaise. While he was obviously relieved to see you weren’t dying, he was even more glad that he wasn’t going to have to call Shiu tomorrow and admit that his asset was dead and he was in need of a new job. Surely offers would be next to none, and he didn’t think he could handle guarding any more feisty starlets or listen to them vent about their secret love affairs with pink-haired band members…at least not without the blood pressure medication his doctor had threatened him with at his last check-up.

At the sound of muffled laughter to his left, Toji swung his gaze over to his son, a grin on Megumi’s face and phone in hand, and his son’s two idiot friends, both of whom were having to help hold the other up.

“Not you three now too,” he grumbled, standing up from his chaise and making his way over to where they stood. “What’s got you idiots making so much n—,”

Toji came to a sudden halt as Megumi’s hand lifted up to shove his cell phone in his face. His eyes squinted at the screen, the laughter from Yuji and Choso increasing in volume, and he needed only a second to process the video he was watching before snapping his head towards the two brothers.

“You bastards!”

Megumi watched as his father and two friends stared wide eyed at each other for a couple of seconds before they all took off running out of the tent and beyond. The thought of catching the pummeling that was coming the brother’s way once his father caught them was plenty enticing, but years of living with Toji Fushiguro taught him that he too was to be considered guilty as an accomplice, and thus making himself scarce was the wiser decision. Besides, there were plenty of cameras already rolling anyway.

——————————————————————————————————

You had taken only a couple of steps onto dry land before a set of well muscled arms locked around your midsection, lifted you clear off your feet, and jerked you back against a solid chest. Sukuna’s breathing was loud and heavy in your ear and you could feel water leaching through the back of your dress from where he pressed forward against you with the entirety of his body.

“That was naughty,” he taunted, and the low scratch of his voice made your feigned attempt to wrestle out of his hold falter.

Before you could say anything in response, in an impressive feat of strength, Sukuna once more swept you off your feet and planted you stomach down over his shoulder. He turned and began to wade back into the water, and it wasn’t until your view from beside his hips started to be filled entirely by water that you struggled—in earnest this time.

“Sukuna!” You gasped, trying to come up with some kind of plea that would keep you from your fate of being dropped into the ocean. “Suk-Sukuna, I can’t swim, I can’t swim!”

This wasn’t true in the slightest, but you hoped his concern for your safety would outweigh his need for vengeance. Just as the ends of your hair became engulfed by water, Sukuna dragged you back up from over his shoulder and slid you down his front until he could grasp at your thighs and pull them open around his hips. You threw your arms around his neck and prayed that the pleading look in your eyes would work.

“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” was all the warning Sukuna gave before cocking an eyebrow at you and promptly falling flat backwards into the ocean with you secured against his chest. The two of you crashed into the water just in time for a wave to surge over you both. It was a cold shock to your system, but you had no more than a hiccup to process the feeling before Sukuna was up on his feet and trudging back to shore with you in his arms. You sputtered the whole way back and pawed at your face to pry a curtain of soaking wet hair from your eyes.

It was at the line where ocean became more sand than water that Sukuna stumbled, presumably from wet fabric caught in his legs again, and rotated mid-fall just quickly enough to save you from being squashed under him.

It took a minute for your combined unabashed laughter to subside, and when you finally caught your breath from where your head rested against the curve of his shoulder, you flew upwards. You swatted Sukuna’s chest when the glimpse of sparkling eyes and a full smile snagged your attention, and you hoped that the swaths of fabric pooling around the two of you was enough to disguise how you straddled his hips and that his fingers were tracing absentminded figures at their place right on the small of your back. Unable to control the flush of heat through your limbs, you exclaimed the first thing that popped into your head and then immediately regretted it.

“Sukuna, I’m completely soaked!”

The quickness of the wicked grin that spread across his face astounded you, and when you noticed his lips begin to part, to no doubt retort something highly inappropriate for the given situation, you slapped a hand over his mouth. His smile was still present under your palm, his eyes soft and adoring, and you swore you felt him place a small kiss at the meat of your thumb.

“AND CUT!”

The director’s shout was enough to shatter the intimate quiet that had gone unnoticed by you two, and the both of you lurched just far enough apart to separate your bodies but remain near enough for the bump of a knee or shoulder. Before you could even gather your bearings enough to understand what was going on, a tall shadow appeared over you, and you leaned your head back to squint up at whoever it was.

“That was certainly entertaining.”

You recognized the voice of Satoru’s manager just as he held out a hand to help you to your feet, and you shot him a look of dismay once you steadied yourself.

“It’s nice of you and your client to finally grace us with your presence, Geto,” you replied dryly.

Geto shrugged, not a single care evident on that pretty face of his, and brought your attention to the crowd gathered behind him with a flourish of his hand. You took a tentative glance at what he was referring to and nearly cringed when you caught sight of the numerous cameras pointed at you and Sukuna. Not to mention Nanami, who stood next to the director with a hand pressed up against his temple like he was in great pain. Though from the small smile you could just barely make out and the animated chatter from the director into Nanami’s ear, you assumed that what had just transpired wasn’t such a bad thing. Even Toji, who was a couple feet behind them with Yuji and Choso in head locks under each of his arms, looked like he had gotten quite the chuckle out of the whole thing.

“It seems like the film was still able to get captured well enough without us,” Geto remarked. “I don’t believe there’s any reason to re-do anything with Satoru just for the sake of appearances.”

You were about to open your mouth to make known your agreement to the idea when Sukuna suddenly threw an arm around your shoulder and popped back at Geto with a brusque “hell no.” You weren’t sure if you felt offended or disappointed by his objection, but before you could start to fret over it, Sukuna was stroking his thumb gently across the back of your neck, and you proceeded to melt into his side. Perhaps his initial disagreement had less to do with his reluctance to be seen as part of the project and instead had everything to do with him making sure you had the full ability to determine how much of him at your side you were ready to share with the world. The thought had you giddy.

“I have zero objections to using the film with Sukuna.”

There was a jubilant cheer from all the staff once they heard your words, and you couldn’t tear your eyes from the satisfied look on Sukuna’s face that followed them.

“Ah, question,” he called out suddenly, making pointed eye contact with the director, and even Nanami too. “By agreeing to this, that means she doesn’t have to frolic around here with the white-hair idiot, right?”

Over the immediate roar of laughter from everyone around, an indignant “hey!” could be heard from the nearby makeup tent, and for just once, you were grateful for Satoru’s inability to ever be on time.

——————————————————————————————————

Part 2

Notes: If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you didn't catch it, the line "Somehow I think that I [you] play rougher" is taken from a scene in the Vampire Diaries (I was obsessed). Did I also get inspiration from that scene in the horse movie Spirit for Sukuna and Reader's moment in the water? Yes, yes I did.

Also, in my decade and a half of reading fan fiction, I have not once written or posted any of my own. So if I miss something important, please kindly let me know.

Always feel free to share comments, thoughts, or questions <3

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #nanami kento #gojo satoru

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allwaswell16 · 10 months

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Part two of a fic rec of One Direction fics that have touch deprivation in them as requested in this ask. You can find part one here! If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

—Louis/Harry—

✦ Light, Spark and Fire (series) by green_feelings / @greenfeelings*

(E, 239k, music industry) Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

✦ The Longer the Waiting the Sweeter the Kiss (It's Better My Darlin' I Promise You This) by pleasinglouis

(E, 160k, small town au) Louis is a big city omega that can't stand stubborn alphas and Harry is the southern cowboy that hates the city

✦ Invisible String by BoosBabycakes / @boosbabycakes28

(E, 84k, pack dynamics) Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car.

✦ Your Gift is Wasted On Me by therogueskimo / @bravetemptation

(NR, 54k, neighbors) Omega Louis has severe touch deprivation and is averse to touch. But he’s fine. Really.

✦ You're Not My Type (still I fall) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter*

(NR, 38k, farm) Harry is only twenty-four and has no inclination to settle down at all, especially not at the behest of an Alpha.

✦ Follow Your Arrow by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 36k, canon) They said Louis playing alpha wouldn’t affect anything.

✦ Too Young To Know by @2tiedships2

(M, 35k, exes to lovers) the one where Harry doesn’t present as an alpha… until he does.

✦ Compass to my Soul by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 31k, canon) Louis Tomlinson, omega, is 1/5 of world famous boy band One Direction. He spends his time hoping his bandmates don’t notice him.

✦ never been a fan of change, but we’re still the same by fearsparks / @onlythebravest *

(T, 27k, uni au) after Harry's omega unexpectedly causes him to drop in the pub, their relationship is no longer the same.

✦ tread lightly on my ground by fairytalelights / @lookslikefairytale*

(E, 20k, mpreg) the one where Harry is having Louis' baby, but Louis doesn't know it's his.

✦ Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche *

(T, 18k, uni au) Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

✦ how do I stay tender by jessicamcqueen

(E, 16k, neighbors) Louis has touch depri and Harry is the alpha neighbor that offers to help.

✦ Captain Cupid by @2tiedships2

(NR, 15k, friends to lovers) the one where Niall enlists his friends to help start a speed dating side hustle. Things don't go as planned... or maybe they do?

✦ Breathe me in, breathe me out by @lunarheslwt

(G, 14k, candle shop) Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri.

✦ A Fateful Snow by @parmahamlarrie *

(T, 13k, Christmas) Will Harry allow a simple misunderstanding keep him from the hottest alpha he’s ever seen?

✦ Get Nesting & Soft Knots by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry

(G, 5k, youtube au) AU where Omega Louis who runs a nesting materials Youtube channel meets Alpha Harry who knits his own blankets

✦ Perfect, For Now by @parmahamlarrie *

(T, 5k, neighbors) Moving to a new city is always hard, being away from home, finding your new community - none of it is easy. Dealing with all of this while being touch deprived is even more difficult.

—Rare Pairs—

✦ (I Was Broke) You Healed Me by @fallinglikethis

(T, 12k, Niall/Harry) Niall Horan is an unmated pregnant omega living on his own after his alpha boyfriend leaves him.

✦ a little tenderness by @disgruntledkittenface

(NR, 10k, Harry/Niall) Harry’s never been around an omega in depri as bad off as Niall looks; most of the time, there’s an alpha friend or family member who can help out with scenting and physical contact.

#ficrec #trackinghappily #1dficvillage #trackinghome #tracksintheam #1dsource

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vex91 · 10 months

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Huh Yunjin - Tattoo

Pairing: Huh Yunjin x Female Reader (Band AU)

Fandom: Le Sserafim

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: after you said you have 0 le sserafim request i want to give one but my brain isn't functioning right now.. i will try my best.

maybe an yunjin au where yunjin is in a band and yn and her sibling have a crush on yunjin. yunjin know about this and acts like she doesn't know. the sibling always tries with yunjin in front of yn so yn can't have a chance to talk with yunjin. then someday yn and yunjin are left alone and yunjin sees your tattoos and she says she also have tattoos so they start talking and yunjin says she actually likes yn.

idk is this even make sense you can continue with anything you want if you want to write this..

(i know they were fake tattoos but DAMN. YUNJIN WITH TATTOOS???!!! seeing that yunjin gave me this idea)

- 🌙

Summary: You were always a fan of Yunjin just like your sister but it soon developed into something deeper when you and your sister finally met her but it seemed like you weren't the only one interested in her like that.

A/N: Why do you always have such good ideas?!?! Can't wait for your requests in the future🤭❤

3rd's POV

Huh Yunjin.

A vocalist and guitarist of the band that your best friend Minnie is in. You and your sister loved their music, you could call yourselves fans of them. You sister was also close with Minnie and often begged the older girl to introduce you two to her group and after months of begging, Minnie agreed to introduce you to them.

Minnie was supposed to pick you both up along with Yena but they were late, fortunately you didn't had to listen to your sister's rambling much longer because they soon arrived. You loved her but sometimes she was annoying with her rambling about how cool Yunjin is which Minnie often made fun of her for.

"Minnie you didn't told me that your friend is so beautiful" Yena said, looking at you through the front mirror while you waited at the red lights. You blushed, laughing at her comment while your sister only playfully fake gagged. You pushed her shoulder lightly before looking at Yena "I'm not that beautiful, nothing to brag about" Yena shook her head before looking back at you "Lies. You looked gorgeous, don't ever let anyone say otherwise" She send you a wink before looking back at the road, just in time for lights to turn green again.

You smiled before looking away. You heard that Minnie's bandmates were pretty flirtatious so you were prepared for that but you underestimated their real life charms.

The ride to Minnie's place went by fast. Yena continued jokingly flirting with you and you enjoyed playing along, much to Minnie's dismay. When you arrived, your sister quickly dragged Minnie inside. You prayed for Yunjin in your head before following them with Yena. Before going into the room you and Yena chatted for a little bit more before Minnie came to drag you both inside after not seeing you walk in for quite a while.

"Here, this is where we normally practice. Sometimes we practice at Minjeong's house but it's only sometimes" You looked around the room, instruments laying around everywhere but the room maintained clean despite it. All the band members scattered all over the room, Minjeong worked on some weird pick up lines, testing them on Gaeul while your sister was talking about something with Yunjin who tried her best to keep up with the younger girl. You watched as she listened to you sister with a smile, soon though her eyes looked in your direction at the sound of the door opening again.

Her eyes stayed on you as you both continued looking at each other. Your breath hitched at the attention that you were given by the older girl. Your little stare-off continued until Minnie pulled you in Winter's and Gaeul's direction to introduce you. Yunjin eyes followed you for a little bit until her attention went back to your sister, still her eyes sometimes wandered to you.

She waited for Minnie to finally introduce you to her and when she did Yunjin couldn't stop staring at you. Something about you brought her peace and that's why she felt the need to hang out with you as much as she could from now on.

Unfortunately it didn't happened.

You and your sister did start coming to see them practice often but everytime Yunjin wanted to walk over to you and talk, your sister was the first to approach her and steal her away from you. Despite wanting to be with you, who was she to just deny your sister a simple conversation. Yunjin knew that your sister liked her but she also knew that she wasn't able to give her the relationship that she wants so just talking with her is all that Yunjin can offer to her right now.

But even then she still yearned to spend some time with you, to get to know you more and maybe ask you out. Unknowingly to her you wanted the same, despite not being able to talk or spend much time with her, you wanted to get closer with her and maybe go out with her but you were sure that she liked your sister, if she didn't then why would she always be with her?

Minnie who noticed everything decided to act. During one of their practices she made everyone except you and Yunjin follow her to "help her" with something. It was just an excuse to leave you two alone. The silence between you was suffocating, now that you had the chance that you wanted, you weren't sure how to use it. That was until you took your hoodie off.

"You have a tattoo?" You looked over your shoulder and to Yunjin who had her eyes trained on your shoulder where you had a tattoo of a butterfly. You nodded your head "Yeah I always wanted to have one and one day I went to get one with Minnie accompanying me" Yunjin smiled before taking her own jacket off, revealing lots of different tattoos. You gasped before coming over to her "Woah you have lots of them" You continued observing them, listening to Yunjin explaining what each tattoo meant to her. Soon your eyes landed on a tattoo of a star on her thumb.

"What about this one? It looks pretty fresh" Yunjin looked at where you were pointing and seeing the tattoo made her quite flustered "Well... I-I did it pretty recently. I actually overheard you talking with Yena about how you like stars and I just... decided to make one tattoo to remind me of you" Your eyes widened at her explanation, continuing to observe the tattoo your heart melted at the gesture. It was sweet of Yunjin but one question plagued your mind.

"Why me though? You probably have lots of people who deserve such a gesture so why me?" Yunjin thought about her answer carefully and soon decided to just be honest "Well I like you... like a lot and I don't regret making this tattoo because whenever I look at it, I see your smiling face in my mind and it makes my day better. I wanted to talk more with you but your sister always steals me away. I think she likes me" You were shocked at her confession but you laughed soon after.

"Yeah she does like you quite a bit... just like I do" Yunjin looked surprised with your answer but she soon smiled and held your hand, caressing it with her thumb "Then what do you say about a date? Tomorrow after our practice? You can come and watch me play too" You laughed before nodding at her proposition.

"I'd love that"

#vex writes #🌙 anon #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim reactions #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin

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barkrry · 2 years

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Harry x Matty [1D Band Member OC] / Harry x OFC Masterlist [NOT MY MANIP, CREDITS TO ORIGINAL CREATOR]

The final show of Love on Tour 2022/23. Of course she was there, as if she would miss it. She was between albums, between tours. She had time. Standing backstage, watching as Harry sang his heart out, having the time of his life.

But she felt herself choking up as she watched him entertain the thousands of fans that were cheering him on, especially as he got to a very special song.

“Now, this song means a whole lot to me, and I hope it means a whole lot to you guys as well,” Harry began, his hands on his mic, holding it in the stand. “But there’s someone extremely extra important here tonight, and seeing as this song is written about them-” he took a deep breath, smiling as he glanced towards where she was standing. “I was wondering if they would like to join me in singing?” Her head nodded at him, grinning softly as she was getting her battery pack set into the pouch. “Ladies and gentleman, non-binary friends and everyone else, I am introducing you tonight to the future Mrs Styles, Matilda Forrest!”

Matty’s cheeks were bright red as she was stepping out onto the stage, the cheers deafening as she walked over to him. NyOh grinned at her, happily stepping back and reclaiming her previous spot. Harry’s arms were wrapping around her tight, pressing soft kisses to her temple.

“You’re crazy,” she said to him softly, shaking her head. Adjusting her ear pieces before walking up to her mic stand. “Holy, wow. This is… unreal,” she said into the mic, looking around at all the fans she could see.

Of course they were freaking out, the last time the couple had been seen together was in 2015 - right before hiatus and right before it was declared they had broken up. And now here they were, and he just announced they were engaged. They could be forgiven for the meltdown they may have been having, as well as the chants for the other One Direction members.

“The real star of the show is here now, so I guess I’ll go back to my dressing room,” Harry teased, grinning over at her on his right-hand side. His hand outstretched, holding hers tightly. “This is… Matilda.”

You can let it go You can throw a party full of everyone you know And not invite your family, ‘cause they never showed you love You don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up

Matty had tears in her eyes as she sang along with him, readjusting her grip on his hand as she sniffled softly. He had the brightest smile as he watched her, and as far as they were aware, they were the only two in the room. Much like all the previous times they had sung this song together, curled up in bed.

You can let it go You can throw a party, full of everyone you know You can start a family who will always show you love You don’t have to be sorry for doing it on your own

At the end of the song, he was cupping her face and gently kissing her lips before hugging her tightly.

In the end, you can choose who your family is. And Matty had chosen hers, her whole family was right here, kind of. Looking around at the stadium of people chanting her name, her head pressing against his chest as she sniffled. His fingers gently brushing through her hair, whispering to her that she was so loved, knowing that she needed the reminder sometimes.

And Matty was happy.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x ofc #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x selena gomez #hs #hatty #eternity universe #one direction band member oc #one direction band member au #one direction au #harry styles au

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yyunari · 4 months

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JAY 01. 🎤﹕ꕤ﹔ NEED YOU NOW !

⌇＃GENRE ◠ ﹒ glee au + fluff + angst + love triangle + jake is a bad bf sry＃PAIRING ◠﹒jay x fem! reader x slight jake＃WARNINGS ◠﹒ermmm toxic relationship

Bathed in the soft glow of the stage lights, Y/N stood poised at the epicenter of McKinley High's Glee Club room, a lone figure ready to unravel the emotion-laden threads of her assignment.

That week, the theme was ‘love’. Most of the members sang of their respective relationships, which were relatively in good shape (for the most part). Despite all the drama that has woven itself into the lifestyle of the Glee Club, everyone was able to overcome their issues. Aside from two members.

Y/N let her eyes into the audience where the other club members sat patiently awaiting her performance.

The air seemed to be filled with the essence of Y/N’s entire existence, as if she were built to be on stage. In most ways she was. Most knew Y/N as the golden girl of the Glee Club, with each note she sang smoothly coming out of her velveteen esophagus with such an ineffable presence. Her notes were wrapped in the lace only replicable of a Broadway singer, weaved into the thread of her being.

“For my assignment this week, I’ve chosen to sing a song that I think describes love the way that I see it. Sometimes, it’s like a song, a beautiful harmony intertwined with moments of elation and joy. But other times, it’s bittersweet, filled with tender notes of affection and haunting pauses of uncertainty”. Her words came out as sharp jabs, quickly piercing their target who sat in the audience. Everyone knew what she was implying and who her statement was directed towards.

After all, dealing with issues through song was what made being in Glee so amazing.

Mr. Jeon, the club director, smiled at Y/N’s words. It seemed that any ulterior undertones to her words flew over his head. He never seemed to notice the all the drama that happened within the club, which was absurd considering all the backstabbing, cheating, and betrayal. “Alright Y/N, take it away!”

The girl looked over to the band that stood towards the back of the stage, and nodded her head to indicate that she was ready to sing. The band, though not officially apart of the Glee Club, was basically an extension of it with how often they would play instrumentals for the singers.

As soon as the first melody was played, the atmosphere in the room became blended with the feelings of the girl that stood on stage. Her silk, black dress reflected the emotions she held close to herself.

“Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor.”

Y/N’s eyes flitted over to Jake, who was looking back at her with an unreadable expression.

“Reaching for the phone cause, I can't fight it anymore.”

The poignant strains of the song she chose to sing swirled around her; it was an ethereal dance that mirrored the intricate choreography of her heart.

“And I wonder if I ever cross your mind, for me it happens all the time.”

Jake, who had been her on-and-off boyfriend for the past two years, knew right away that she would be choosing a song that reflected their ‘relationship’. After all, he knew that it had been taunting her for the duration that they had been together (or not together). Jake's gaze became a silent spectator to the emotional tapestry she painted with her voice.

“It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now.”

His eyes, a canvas of mixed emotions, flickered with both admiration and introspection, knowing that within the Y/N’s mind she was singing to him. In that moment, the unspoken complexity of their relationship played out in the nuances of his expression, a silent acknowledgment set to the rhythm of her performance.

“Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control, and I need you now.”

As she sang, her voice became a fragile vessel, carrying the weight of unspoken sentiments. The lyrics, like fragments of a shattered love story, echoed through the auditorium, each note a delicate brushstroke on the canvas of shared experiences.

“And I don’t know how I could do without, I just need you now.”

However, a mysterious presence in the back cast an observant gaze upon Y/N. He never took his attentive eyes off of her figure, his focus unwavering from the girl in front of him. His fingers danced across the strings of his guitar, an intimate dialogue with the melody, as his eyes spoke the unuttered words of a secret yearning.

Jay, one of the guitarists in the band, felt his heart widen as he watched Y/N perform.

“Another shot of whisky, can’t stop looking at the door.”

In the sea of notes, Y/N's voice soared, unraveling the narrative of her unreliable love. The audience was captivated by her performance, but Jay's attention was undivided. He reveled in the ethereal cadence of her voice, each word she sang a poetic confession. The gentle chords he coaxed from his guitar wove seamlessly into the fabric of her song, a silent collaboration that transcended the mere strumming of strings.

“Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before.”

The only reason Jay joined band, after all, was to be able to play in the background of Y/N’s life. His younger sister was in a Glee Club at a different school, which led him to support her at Show Choir Regionals the year prior. Although he didn’t realize that his own high school was performing there as well.

“And I wonder if I ever cross your mind, for me it happens all the time.”

Jay had seen Y/N sing ‘Don’t Rain on My Parade’, and he swore it awoke something within him. It only took 3 minutes for Y/N to make him fall in love.

The only issue was that Jake never let her get too far. Y/N and Jake were known to be in a complicated relationship by the whole school, that despite his wavering feelings Jake wanted to keep Y/N at arms length at all times. Jay could see it even from afar. No matter how often she tried to get away, Jake was always there to keep her in his life.

But Jay loved her and he knew that. Each time the band had to help out Glee with their songs, he was ready to be there. He was too nervous to shy his way into Y/N’s life, so he resigned to just play in the background of her existence. She wouldn’t know his name nor that he was there, but he was.

As the instrumental in between verses began, Jay took his eyes off of Y/N for a second to follow her eyeline. Of course, she was already looking at Jake. Despite how much Jay wanted the other out of her life, he never seemed to leave.

“It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now. Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control and I need you now.”

Jay knew that silently pining over a girl in a toxic relationship was unhealthy for him. No matter how much his heart craved for her presence, he couldn’t do anything about it. Nothing he could say or do would pry Y/N off of Jake’s rough hands, because he had no significance into her life. All he could do was watch from the background, playing his guitar in support.

“And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now.”

Jay wanted to send glares in Jake’s direction, but he held back. Unconsciously, his mind opted to keep his eyes trained on her. The desire that swirled around his dark orbs seemed to sing a song of a love that he burned so passionately for.

“Guess I rather hurt than feel nothing at all…” Y/N took a breath during the momentary break, letting herself look away from Jake for a bit. She felt her feelings running rampant through her chest, the melodies of her complicated love resonating within the walls of McKinley. “It’s a quarter after one, I’m all alone and I need you now.”

The rest of the members listened to the emotion filled words of Y/N’s song, knowing that it was about her and Jake. Even Jake himself had that shallow understanding of it. But Jay, he knew that he understood the deeper poem that Y/N was reciting. The metaphors of her heart that she so brazenly sung out not only described her and Jake, but reflected how she viewed herself. The insecurities she felt, the doubts she had about the man in her life, were all laid out.

“And I said I wouldn't call, but I'm a little drunk and I need you now.”

As his fingers strummed against the perfectly polished metal, nothing was going through his mind at the time other than the fact that he wanted Y/N. So bad.

Her voice captivated him at first. But as time ticked by and he spent time observing her at school, Jay got to know Y/N on all levels. The way she carried herself with a confident stupor, the natural cadence of her voice that blended so well with the sounds of the earth, the way her aura filled up the entire room, Jay was in love with it all. He was so, deeply in love with her that it gave him a sharp pain within his body.

“And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now.”

Y/N looked so beautiful there on stage. Her hair gleamed under the stage lights, and her face was illuminated by the passion she exemplified. Jay loved the way she dreamed so big, the way she wanted to become a Broadway star in New York, the way she wouldn’t let anything get in the way of her and her aspirations. He could never be that passionate about something, and he admired that so much about her.

“I just need you now. Oh, baby, I need you now.”

As the final echoes of the performance lingered within the chambered walls, the air seemed charged with an unspoken tension. Y/N, unaware of the silent symphony playing in Jay's heart, took a humble bow. Her eyes still bore into Jake’s incomprehensible soul, knowing her mind hadn’t left the idea of him throughout her song. The applause from the audience reverberated, but she would never know that Jay's gaze lingered—a silent serenade that spoke volumes. She would never know that every note she whispered out had become a love letter etched in the air, and Jay, the keeper of silent melodies, yearned to compose the next chapter in the ballad of their lives.

His love for her ran so deeply that it was suffocating. Sometimes, he couldn’t breathe as he watched her. But there was no cure for that.

Jay knew that 10 years down the line, Y/N’s dreams of making it big would come true. She had her place on that Broadway stage reserved ever since the moment she had been placed into the intricate thread of the universe. There she would sing songs and relay stories she had practiced for so long, and her significant other would watch her from the front row. He would throw her roses at the end of the show and greet her with a congratulatory kiss. Jay wanted so desperately to be that person. But as time told the tale, he never would be as long as Jake was in the picture.

All he could do was strum his guitar in the background, and observe as Y/N’s heart stayed loyal to the one person who would never truly understand her. Jake didn’t understand the complexities that ran through Y/N’s soul.

Not the way Jay did.

authors note. first nari fic in a long time and it’s another glee au…. sorry i just love glee ughhhhhh rachel berry my love 4ever idc like they could never make me hate u queen!!!!

taglist. @muhwaa @yizhoutv @ja4hyvn @one16core @enhacolor @haerinz @soobin-chois @en-boyz @ohmy-fandoms @yjwonz @yunki4evr @duolingofanaccount @iichaeyj @eundiarys @ineedaherosavemeenow @chaerybae @bubblytaetae @w3bqrl @xiaoderrrr @jaeyunnsworld @rikizm @teddywonss @gweoriz @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @kaykay11sworld @itsactuallylina

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alatusprinz · 1 year

Text

Matsuri - (Xiao x F!Reader x Scaramouche) - Modern!UniStudents!AU

word count : 5.4k

trigger warning: none except swearing. reader wears a dress and is referred to in feminine titles.

Proceed to masterlist - Matsuri .

Chapter 1 - Matsuri .

It had been exactly a year ago when you first met him. It was a breezy spring night, slightly chilly despite being late May. Hutao had claimed that her friend would be performing on a band night at your university’s clubs assembly, a mini-festival if you will. That being said, it wasn't a big event, so you felt that you could accompany her to listen to live music.

You remembered arriving slightly late to the concert hall the bands were performing at, thanks to your professor deciding to extend the class time for another 10 minutes without realising the period was over. Stumbling over your feet almost as you hurriedly searched for your brunette friend, you found her high pigtails and signature hat peeking from behind in the middle row and you hastily made your way to the next seat while making sure not to block other students’ view as much as you could.

Before you could say sorry for making her wait, the next band, the drummer twirling the drum sticks swiftly and setting the beginning of his band’s performance with 4 hits on the cymbal to set the rhythm. When the harmony of bass, electric guitar and every member’s heart poured from the stage to the listeners’ ears, your eyes widened in delight. Total of five members were playing an oh-so familiar song. Your eyes were drawn to the performers as your eyes fixated immediately on one member in particular.

You simply couldn’t tear your eyes off of the pretty drummer at the back. He was dressed in all black, silver accessories glistening under the harsh stage lighting. He had a black mask on too, you could barely make out his features. Uncertain, but you could’ve sworn you saw a strike of dark green in his hair, dyed prominently and matching perfectly to his freestyle attire.

The band was apparently known as “Breeze”, and they were currently performing that one song you assumed only you knew, the one you used to listen to religiously in sophomore year of your high school. The band performed with little to criticise, you pondered on how much practice it took to perfect the song. The intense, yet alluring voice of the braided vocalist, motions and precise strums of the guitarists, bassist who seemed to be grinning from one ear to another, and god the way the pretty drummer’s hair swayed along with his movements was effectively driving you insane. He swung the sticks with mastered motion, playing the drum with closed eyes and acute senses of musical perception. It looked so natural to him, you felt almost hypnotised. You barely had the sense to wonder how long he had been playing the drum to play with such professional aura.

The longer you listened and looked at him, the more he took your breath away with his own beauty and his drumming skills. Hutao’s voice exclaiming how breathtaking the performance was slowly faded away the longer you stared at the drummer in the back- everything about him struck your interest. It was almost strange how pretty the drummer looked, despite his face being covered by a face mask. You'd go as far as to say he appeared like he owned this world then, simply dominating the stage with his performance. Your heart felt like it was about to leap out of your chest any given moment- you felt absolutely enamoured.

Hutao’s crimson eyes glanced in your direction with a raised eyebrow from your silence, wondering what’s got you so focused until she followed your gaze. Surely enough after a while she found the drummer you were staring at- who looked to be your type.

“The drummer, is it?” She cooed with a teasing smirk, but you kept quiet again due to being preoccupied with the performance fully.

To your dismay, the mystery of a drummer exited the stage after only two performances, switching to another member of their club as he disappeared behind the curtain. You felt your heart beat wildly in your chest- an uneasy feeling spreading from the moment he disappeared from your sight. Would you ever see him again? Would he perform again? Who even was he? Your mind raced with millions of questions.

Before you knew it, the band performances ended, and you headed home after saying your goodbyes to Hutao. Despite knowing nothing about neither his club nor the mysterious drummer himself, you felt an unexplainable bittersweet feeling swell in your chest- you felt the clawing urge to find him, try to get to know him at least. But he was nowhere to be seen after the event, silently hoping you might see him somewhere if you hung around the avenue for a while, you came to the unfortunate conclusion that his performance was done for the day and he had probably headed back already.

With a sigh, you headed to the nearby bus station as a mocking thought entered your head- why were you so enamoured to begin with? He was virtually a stranger, were you really about to fall into the cringeworthy troupe of “love at first sight” or something of the sort? Heck, you tried your best to remind yourself that there was a high chance of never seeing him again, unless you made a move which you surely can’t. How could you anyway? Go up to his bandmate and ask for his information? You’d be damned, there was no way.

As you found your way back home in the bus, you hastily grabbed your phone- suddenly a new idea struck you. Maybe even if he wouldn’t know it was you, the urge to express how amazing the pretty drummer looked on stage was too overwhelming to ignore. Hence, you logged into the anonymous platform of your college you almost never used before and typed away.

“ may. 6th – anonymous post.

title: Breeze, first and second performance drummer!

content : watching Breeze band’s performance was a blast. the drummer was especially amazing! I wonder if he has a girlfriend… haha… unless? A joke, Anyways, Breeze is such a great band, you have a new fan!”

You leaned your head against the window and spaced out, silently pondering which assignments you had to do once you went home. The reports on Tuesday class, the team project on Wednesday… Now that finals were about a month away, the professors seem to have an unsaid agreement on burying students with workload.

Before you knew it you closed your eyes after confirming that your stop wasn’t yet near, settling on at least resting your eyes if not sleep for a few minutes.

Amidst your attempt to ease your exhaustion, your phone flashed with a certain notification.

You have a new private message in response to your article “Breeze, first and second performance drummer”!

Anonymous: thanks…?

—

One year later - May.

If someone had told you yesterday that you’d be forced to stand still in the burning afternoon sun and sit on the hard ground without anything to soften the surface tomorrow, you’d have probably rolled your eyes and possibly claimed it wasn’t a big deal. Well, what a turn of events.

What kind of godforsaken college festival forced you to stand or sit on the ground for 2 hours prior and for another 5 for the actual performances itself with absolutely no seats? Neither the organisation committee nor Hutao, who suggested you went together in the first place, warned you to wear comfortable clothes to sit on the ground. Not to mention it wasn’t soft or grassy, it was mostly dried grass and dirt, hence how uncomfortable it was to sit on without a mat. To make matters worse, the short dried grass sticks to your clothes every time you get up, and the crisp soil would dirty your clothes completely.

You silently cursed seeing that post yesterday online, claiming that people often wore pretty clothes to college festivals. The post claimed that it was a once in a while opportunity that allowed you to be well dressed because otherwise, everyone reached out for hoodies and sweatpants on normal campus days. It made you rummage through your wardrobe to bring out that one dress you bought months ago and never worn because you never had the occasion to, somewhat apprehensive of standing out too much while still wanting to fit in if people chose a flashier choice of outfits. It had taken you some degree of courage to wear it and leave the house, and of course you had to almost roll around in the dusty ground in that dress once you actually made it to the festival ground. Almost everyone was in comfy attire to begin with, you were the only one in a dress as far as you could see- let alone a shorter one that reached your mid-thighs. It was as if everyone was already notified of the fact that they would be sitting down on the ground, hence trousers coming in as a more ideal choice of clothing if you had only known before you came here.

Oh well. No use dwelling over it now.

“I didn’t think they wouldn’t have seats” Hutao hummed next to you, sitting down next to you. Although she also encouraged you to wear a dress today, you squinted when you saw she herself was in a sweatshirt and training trousers like everyone else. So much for “a flashy event”.

“I didn’t think everyone would be dressed casually too.” You mumbled in complaint, the dress barely doing anything to cover your legs from the spiky grass under you. The more you tried to keep them from pressing into your skin, the more it seemed to leave ugly marks from the pressure. The weather was unforgiving too, the harsh sunlight pouring on you felt like pressing your body to an iron ore that had been exposed to hundreds of degrees in heat.

“Do your legs hurt? It’s leaving quite the mark” Hutao asked, referring to the grass shaped print from the constant friction from below.

“Doesn’t really hurt, it just looks ugly” You pulled your legs up, hugging them to your chest instead to keep them from pressing on further although it probably wouldn’t help the already formed shape. You carefully adjusted the skirt of your dress so you don’t unintentionally flash someone indecently.

“I wish I brought the mat we use for picnics, this looks like it’ll go on forever” She chuckled awkwardly and adjusted her position similarly to yours.

“Until the end of the festival, yes it seems so” You reluctantly agreed, wondering how long you could last like this. You were in the front row thanks to arriving earlier than most people and waiting for your entrance, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t tempted to leave this instant and change into comfortable clothes. It wouldn’t take you more than an hour to go home and come back, and the festival wasn’t to begin for another hour and a half. But unfortunately, from the hundreds of students behind you and the festival committee repeatedly announcing that re-entry wouldn’t be permitted if you leave your own space, you found your actions restricted. Well, might as well suck it up until the end now that you were already in the best place to enjoy the performances. Or in other words, you had no choice to begin with.

“Last year they had seats, why not-” Your eyes widened and your words were stuck in your throat when you felt pressure next to you, tugging you slightly to the left and the sensation of something hard bumped into your behind for a moment. After making sure that you weren’t imagining the weird tug, your head snapped to your side, surely seeing the culprit. Your eyes focused on the foot stepping on your dress and your brows furrowed in frustration, slight anger spread in your chest as you bit the inside of your cheek after seeing how the flowy fabric now had a nasty dusty print in the shape of his shoes. It wasn’t as if your dress skirt was spread out everywhere, it was just beside you because it wasn’t that long to begin with- and this guy just had to press his entire shoe print on it.

With an upset frown, you raised your head to meet his gaze with a glare, finally taking in the sight of the guy who had nothing but the audacity. To make matters even more infuriating, your anger was doubled when he looked you straight in your eye, slowly shifted his gaze to realise how he stepped on your dress and just took his foot away to plop down next to you a tad too comfortably. He appeared to be friends with the other guy on his left, immediately engaging in a conversation while carelessly tossing his backpack in front of him, the bag knocking yours over. The worst part was how he didn’t even apologise or acknowledge your annoyance, in fact he didn’t even look in your direction again, shifting his position to blatantly press closer to you and practically invade your space even though it was clear he could’ve stayed at a comfortable space had he leaned back or got closer to his friend.

You bit your lip in disbelief, then took a shallow breath to ignore his insufferable behaviour. He was even sitting on the hem of your dress he stepped on, making you passive-aggressively yank it from underneath him and wipe off the dust he oh-so-graciously imprinted on the fabric. And yet again, he paid absolutely no shred of attention to you as he absentmindedly scrolled over his phone and chatted with his friend.

It wasn’t as though you could get angry at him, really. It was already cramped, the students were all sitting in somewhat-to-very close proximity, he had no other choice- you chanted in your mind to soothe your irritation and diverted your attention to Hutao instead. You almost rolled your eyes when she immediately leaned over to lie her head on your lap with a loud sigh, claiming how exhausted she was. It appeared that she didn’t even see your small “conflict” with the dark purple haired stranger next to you.

Wait, purple?

Come to think of it… You discreetly looked back at him again, noticing how his amethyst, almost plum-hued dark hair. Was it dyed? It looked majestic, his curious shade of forelocks. The blinding sunray radiated through his hair, illuminating the colour to appear softer violet in the light. You couldn’t exactly see his face or eyes clearly from the side and with him wearing a cap and a face mask on a boiling hot day, but god you’d be lying if he didn’t look pretty.

Amidst your “discreet” staring, the stranger glanced in your direction and met your gaze. Okay, now this was something you didn’t intend for to happen.

“Did nobody teach you that it’s rude to stare or are you just an airhead?” Your eyes widened slightly when he casually struck up a conversation like he already knew you, not to mention his sarcastic tone. His somewhat husky and smooth voice snapped you out of your senses, then you attempted to look away and perhaps apologise until you realised with a slow blink- you weren’t the asshole here, were you? With your brows furrowing and squinting slightly to express yourself, you scoffed softly and crossed your arms on your chest.

“Do you take delight in leaving footprints over a woman’s dress?” If he was any bit startled by you firing back in the same provoking tone as he used, he didn’t show it one bit. Now that he was fully facing your direction, you had to hold your breath for a moment when your vision fixated on his bold indigo eyes that were a similar shade to his hair. You couldn’t see anything else of his face thanks to his mask, but you were sure you didn’t care enough anyways. His unfairly pretty eyes with a red eyeliner that feels like a statement or perhaps even a warning, and his upturned lashes that were probably longer than yours with mascara and lash curler combined stared into yours with absolutely no hint of emotion other than the slightest glint of amusement.

“So I’m the bad guy because I ruined your oh-so-pretty dress. The dust disappeared when you wiped it off, what’s the big deal?” He had the audacity to yawn and stretch, yet again scooting closer to you until his knees were pressing against your legs. One second was all you needed to scan your surroundings briefly, surely enough nobody else was as closely leaning onto the person next to them so blatantly.

“Normally, people tend to apologise for such behaviour” You didn’t even bother to hide your glare when he kept pressing your buttons more. A part of you was surprised Hutao didn’t step in, but judging from her amused gaze and observation you could see in your peripheral vision, you knew she had no intentions on disturbing her only source of entertainment as of now.

“Oh I am terribly sorry my lady, please forgive this careless commoner for tarnishing your luxe dress” His entire face shifted into a dramatic feign of guilt, our so you’d assume from the artificial attempt at softening his eyes and brows being brought together with too much force. Not much of an emotion could be told when a mask is covering half his face, you thought to yourself.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” Your eye twitched subtly when he scooted in towards you yet again, now even going as far as to rest his chin on his hand, leaning in closer. Either he was doing it on purpose or he had seriously no consideration for your personal space, you noticed yet again that he was sitting on your dress.

“It’s not what I wanted, it’s called manners and basic compensation for when you make a mistake.” This time you reached out and yanked the fabric back again, both in an attempt to pull your skirt back and hopefully put some distance between you two although it wasn’t looking hopeful at this point.

“Compensation? Is that what you want from me, then?” He raised his brows in slight interest, his eyes shamelessly glancing down to your short dress and exposed legs thanks to the mini length of the dress.

“I never said so, I just want some space if you will.” You reluctantly moved over to Hutao’s side slightly, not thrilled that you had to share some of your own space because he decided that he deserved to occupy half of your seat. He made no attempts to lean in close again to your relief, and you finally turned your gaze back to Hutao.

Before you could say anything, she smirked amusedly and patted your shoulder.

“Good job for standing your ground for once, my lady” You groaned softly when she teased you for the infuriating title he teased you with just now.

“Don’t mention that again.”

—

Surely enough, the festival started on time despite the painfully long wait. The first half were reserved for bands and singing performances while the last few ones would be dancing clubs. From the first few performances causing a positive reaction from the crowd, you finally felt that all the inconveniences were worth it in the end. Now that the time slowly flowed and it’s evening, at least the sunray stopped cascading all over you harshly. It was the most pleasant weather of the day in hot summer days, where the sun is setting gradually and the warm breeze adorned your hair.

You decided it would probably be better to sit down while you could because you’d be inevitably standing up once the dance started. At least the vocal performances allowed you to relax for a while until you had to stand up amidst a sea of people for around 4 hours. Your feet were already aching from being here from 2pm to 5:30pm now when it finally started.

Speaking of aching, your patience was also running thinner every second thanks to the infuriating man next to you who kept accidentally or maybe even purposefully bumping his shoulder to yours, constantly glancing at you shamelessly to observe your brows furrow in irritation. For the past hour or so you’ve been trying to find a way to put some space between you two, and yet this purple-headed menace decided that you were his entertainment for the entire duration of this festival. From what you could tell, he was barely even looking at the stage or performances, all he seemed to focus on was his phone once in a while and then his attention always diverted back to you before long. God knows why he was so insistent on pissing you off, you were half tempted to snap at him like he did with you before with no second thought, but you held back half by your patience and the way you knew that would possibly amuse him even further. Maybe if you ignored him for long enough he’d finally leave you alone. Hopefully.

Another rap performance ended as the club members ended their song with a dramatic mic drop, making the crowd of students cheer loudly from the lively atmosphere they brought on. With a small smile you clapped, the energetic stage cheering you up a bit. Hutao cheered with a whistle, seemingly friends with one of the rappers as he waved at her with a small wink. You’d ask her later who he was, you mentally noted.

Just as you tried to reach down to fix your bag on the ground seeing as it had dropped yet again, a particularly strong wind blew and you hurriedly held your skirt from flowing up. Hearing your small gasp, the purple-haired prick looked down at you and smirked amusedly yet again, meeting your gaze with absolutely no concealing his smug smile.

“Having a little trouble, fair lady?” Never mind. Just how hard could it be for him to let you be? You mentally groaned at his snarky remark decorated with the irksome endearment, smoothly grasping the opportunity to ridicule you yet again almost as if he’d been waiting for a chance. Sitting down to fix your bag upwards, you got up and dusted your skirt while ignoring his words and instead fixating your gaze on the vocal performance instead. Just as you were finally appreciating the pretty voice of the singer on stage, another blast of wind made your skirt lift up even higher. This time even the infuriating stranger looked somewhat surprised by the strength of the breeze and looked around briefly (you’d assume to see if anyone saw your unfortunate fate to laugh along with him but you guess you’ll never know) and sighed under his breath.

For possibly the fiftieth time today you adjusted your dress, pulling it down by the hem to cover your legs as much as you could. While silently cursing in your mind, just when your head hung low to check how it looked again, a heavy piece of fabric dropped on top of you.

Immediately making you jerk up, your eyes widened in shock when something that resembled a kind of clothing completely draped over your face, obscuring your vision. You reached out to pull the fabric off of your head and held it in your hand. Surely enough it was a shirt now that you looked at it properly, a black cotton cloth material zip-up shirt. If you remembered correctly, the guy next to you was wearing this less than a minute ago.

As you stood motionlessly with a puzzled look, the guy next to you sighed loudly again, rubbing the back of his neck and he looked away.

“Wrap them around your skimpy short dress or something, unless you want to give everyone here a show.” For a moment you thought you were hallucinating or hearing voices inside your head, there was absolutely no way he could be this thoughtful to you of all people. You slowly looked in his direction to find his face turned towards you again, above his black face mask you could see his indigo eyes boring into yours with a serious look. So he was being genuine, there was no hint of amusement or playing around from the way he stared at you.

“...Are you just going to stare at me like that? Hurry up before the wind blows up again.” You had half the mind to murmur soft words of gratitude and wrapped the sleeves around your waist, securing it in place. Thanks to the oversized length and the fairly thick material keeping your flowy skirt in place, you wouldn’t have to worry about your dress flying up again.

Now, you would be lying if you didn’t find his thoughtfulness touching, especially considering neither of you even knew each other’s names. Yet despite his uncharacteristically kind action, you still couldn’t help the suspicious gaze you discreetly threw in his direction, wondering what caused the sudden shift of heart.

“Don’t give me that look, you asked me for compensation earlier and I provided you with what you asked. As simple as that.” From the way he never took his eyes off of you regardless whether you two were talking or not and from the way you seem unable to meet his gaze most of the time, you concluded either one or both of the following ideas would be true. One, he had an incredibly weighty gaze and therefore somehow made you nervous. Or two, you found it difficult to hold eye contact from the beginning. Anyhow, you didn’t have the liberties to think it over as you hurriedly looked back at the stage from the sudden turn of tension between the two of you.

With an amused look and raising his brow, he put his hands in his pockets. Yet again he still kept his eyes on you shamelessly. From what you could tell, he could give no crap about being discreet.

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re the one with a staring problem, not me.” You mumbled with a sigh, turning to look at him fully.

“Something you want to say?” You could’ve sworn his face lit up in smug delight when you finally acknowledged his presence. Maybe this is what he’d been waiting for or he just absolutely adored seeing signs of irritation on you. What a taste he had.

“Why, is that how you talk to your saviour of the evening? I’d say I just helped out a damsel in distress, no?” Of course he felt the need to bring it up.

“Like I said, I’m grateful. Thank you.” You repeated your words from earlier, rotating your wrists slightly to crack it, a habit you don’t even notice often now.

Surely he did notice, adding onto your unfortunate streak of events in the span of just one evening.

“Your wrists make quite the crack, you sure you’re not an elderly in exertion instead?” It was safe to say your eyes were permanently squinted in annoyance when his teasing continued.

“Or the aged in agony? I’m unsure if you’re quite the damsel anymore.”

“Oh shut it, bowlhead.” You sneered at him and rubbed your face in exasperation. Although it had barely been a few hours since you had the misfortune of being stuck next to him, you were positive you aged at least ten years thanks to this prick that had nothing better to do than distress you.

“Virago.” Your eye twitched at his smug tone yet again.

“Creep.”

“Snob.”

“Prick.”

“Vixen.”

“You-” Without even realising when the two of you decided to have a battle on who knew the wider range of insults, it felt like it had been quite a time past when you two both quieted down when the singer’s performance ended. If you remembered correctly, she had been scheduled for 20 minutes onstage. Surely enough, it had been over 10 minutes since you wasted your time with him without even properly enjoying the show that the various club members probably spent months preparing for. And judging from the crowd cheering even louder than before, you had a hunch she did a splendid job performing. Too bad you had to miss it thanks to this gremlin next to you.

“Scaramouche, do you know the girl next to you?” His friend on his other side called out, a white haired guy with a red streak atop his bangs peering over to you and smiling gently. So his name was Scaramouche. What in the Bohemian Rhapsody was that name? At least you were unsure but you could always ask him to do the fandango if he decides to bother you again.

“I don’t know this-” Before Scaramouche could answer, his kind friend talked to you again with a polite wave and a small head-bow.

“Hello, nice to meet you. I’m Kazuha.” Despite his infuriating friend, Kazuha himself seemed very gentle hearted and dignified. Just from his soft smile, you found yourself curiously questioning just how such polar opposites came to be friends.

“Hi, you can call me (Name). It’s nice to meet you too. This is Hutao, my friend.” You introduced your brunette companion next to you with a matching smile on both of your faces. Hutao made a peace sign and made small conversation with Kazuha while as expected, Scaramouche made no moves or word for self introduction.

“What major are you in, Kazuha? What year?” Hutao’s cheerful voice rang out as she leaned over to talk to him.

“Oh, I’m a third year in Nursing. How about you two?” You couldn’t help the pleasant surprise, yet you had a feeling he was an excellent fit for his major. If you were a patient and saw your nurse to be as kind and accommodating as Kazuha, it’d have definitely helped you feel at ease.

“Oh, we’re in our junior year too! She majors in Psychology and I’m in Biotechnology, Food Science.” Hutao spoke over you, but you didn’t exactly mind from the way she looked happy to be making new friends.

Neither you nor Hutao exactly felt bothered by the silence of “Scaramouche” despite the rest of you sharing a conversation, but Kazuha seemed to mind from the way he kept somewhat concernedly smiling at you two and softly nudging him with his elbow to which he blatantly ignored. For someone who looked like he couldn’t give less crap about the festival just a few minutes ago, he was focusing on watching the stage for once. You weren’t sure if he just loathed you or was unfriendly to strangers to begin with, but it was safe to say he didn’t bother you much anymore.

“Come on Scara, you could at least introduce yourself.” Kazuha gently reminded him of the basic manner, making him begrudgingly look in your direction. You imagine you’d have been pissed if you were Hutao from the way “Scara” didn’t spare one second to look at her.

“Scaramouche. Fourth year in Fine Arts.” That was all he said and looked back at the singers on stage, standing straight with his arms crossed over his chest. As another cool breeze blew, you suddenly felt concerned if Scaramouche was feeling cold. After all, since he gave his zip-up hoodie to you, he was now in a tight sleeveless top that showed off his slender arms. In truth you wanted to ask if he needed his shirt back, but the snarky remark bound to follow held you back as you were left stumbling over your words and quieting down.

In the corner of your eye, Kazuha seemed to notice Scaramouche’s bare arms at the same time as you did. He looked somewhat surprised to realise his friend’s shirt had mysteriously disappeared despite the slightly chilly weather until his scarlet eyes fixated on the shirt wrapped around your waist.

If it were an animated show, you’d imagine a lightbulb would light up atop Kazuha’s head from the way his soft expression suddenly turned knowing with a slightly teasing smile. Your eyes widened at his misunderstanding, wondering just how you could explain this.

“Moving on- it is our pleasure to introduce our next live music band, Breeze!”

The announcement rang out through the open area full of students, the band name taking your breath away as your gaze found a familiar figure walk up to the stage.

#xiao x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact imagines #genshin fanfic #xiao x reader x scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #xiao x reader fluff #scara x reader #scara x reader fluff #scaramouche x reader fluff #wanderer x reader fluff

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leeknowsnot · 8 months

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listen (platonic han x reader)

genre: angst, no comfort, band!au

notes: platonic, 9th member!reader, reader is changbin's sister, written in 3rd pov, reader is referred to as she instead of "you"

warnings: mentions of d-ath and s-ic-de

i'm still in the process of writing kinktober day 3 so here you go for now!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ" your burden is not yours alone

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ there are those who share it

there are those who learn from it

and there are those who

willingly speak about it

you just have to listen"

January 7th, 2023

"Stop. Let's stop," Seungmin abruptly said from the other side of the room, ceasing the music being made within the four-walled enclosement they were in. Everyone had looked at him in confusion as he ran a palm through his face with an exasperated exhale, the guitar hanging on his shoulder yet looking like it had weighed more than it did. Minho was silent but he was eyeing the other male along with Chan who was raising his eyebrows. Seungmin's tone was not loud yet it was laced with quite the frustration.

"Y/N," he called out. She blinked, mouth agape and glanced at him. Seungmin stood before her, eyes wallowing in what seemed to be dismay followed by a few more gazes from Chan and Minho.

She spoke, a confused tone lacing her words. "Y-Yes? What's wrong?"

Seungmin replied with a sigh, "We've been practicing the same song for a whole week now and you've been hitting the wrong beats for more than thrice already. Our first gig is just around the corner and it's only a few days before we finally get on stage with a large crowd watching. Let's try not to mess this up, okay?"

She had found herself having more difficulty nodding than staying silent but she had an uncomfortable fidget on her seat which Chan noticed. "She's probably just tired. We all are, considering we even had weekends reserved for practice and we all know she gets tired a lot more than the rest of us. I think we should call it a day," he tapped on the male's shoulder.

The frown from Seungmin's mien softened, looking at her before he had finally agreed to his proposal. "You're the boss. I'm just trying to keep things on track," he says.

Minho had sent a nod at Y/N's direction as he put back his bass on the stand and with a few words of notice about where he'd be headed, left off.

"I'll be going on ahead as well then," was the last thing Seungmin had said before following suit, leaving the two of them in a complete silence. It felt like Chan was staring right through her soul and it somehow made her conscious.

"What is it?" she muttered through her lips, looking down at the snare drum that had seemed to become the most interesting object to look and distract herself from his stare.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" his voice was straightforward, typical Chan, but there was a slight tone of concern laced within his words. "You do seem like you've been out of it for the past days. Is there something wrong?"

She shook her head, probably out of instinct but she had decided is would only bother Chan if she said yes. "It's nothing, really. You're right, I'm just probably tired. Seungmin has been out of it as well and the others.. They're probably exhausted too."

They weren't. In fact, they had plenty of rests in between practice hours and they were more than enough for exhaustion to be such an overstatement.

"Are you sure?" he asked. His voice was even, mellow.

Y/N hummed, hoping her facial expression was convincing enough for him to stop questioning her which would probably lead to a whole therapy session. "I'm really fine. I just need some breather, that's all," she answered. To which in her surprise, Chan had taken as a genuine response and finally left her to herself by her drum set. She sighed in relief, packing her drumsticks in her small backpack and threw the cover on the set.

When she was finally set on leaving the studio, she stood beside Chan as he sat, burying his face on a piece of paper. Probably finding the right word for a new song from his so-called mind palace. He was never the first to leave the studio and was always the last to leave—thus, the whole band teasing him that he was here more than he had stayed in his own house. She bade him goodbye, leaving the room and headed towards the corridor.

It was never silent in the record label's building. If not for the muffled sound in practice studios, her brother Changbin's loud and booming voice could be heard echoing through the walls. As she reached the training room, the same drum set, recording set, and instruments had welcomed her and brought her waves upon waves of memories.

...

You always call me full of regret

You want me to save you again

December 12th, 2020

"You really have a nice voice," she had said out of the blue, slightly startling the male whose back was turned at her.

"You really have a hobby of giving people heart attacks," Jisung deadpanned at her, earning a laugh from the female. She sat beside him, hand occupied with her lunch tray and gave him a wide smile.

It was during middle school when they first met. She had been friends with Chan for quite a while but it was also not long when she had met Jisung. "Did you try singing at talent shows or joining bands? You shouldn't put that voice to waste, you know," she said, chewing on a piece of fry.

"No. I don't like bands."

"Why not? Afraid of a little commitment? I heard Chan's planning on forming a band for the school show. C'mon, it's fun!" she laughed.

"It's not very convincing coming from someone who transferred schools a lot and met sorts of people. But no, it's not like that." He eyed back his notebook, gripping the pen between his fingers and started scribbling again. He never had the best penmanship.

"I just don't like how they disband in the end eventually after years of bonding."

...

After all these years, the days go by

I've seen you fall a million times

Everybody makes mistakes

February 17th, 2022

"What's with that face?" he gave her a side look, ready to inch away. "Why do you look like you're about to cry."

Y/N clicked her tongue, glaring at him. "I'm not. I just can't get this beat right. I've been redoing this part for how many times now, it still sounds weird." She scrunched her nose at him. "Minho won't be too happy if he hears that mistake during our number. You know how he just stays silent but he's actually judging you. Even Changbin refuses to help me out with this."

"Alright, alright. Give me the drumstick, we'll sort your problem out," he sighed at her, which had probably sounded like he was done with her whining. She gave him the weirdest grin.

"Stop it Y/N, you're weirding me out."

...

June 5th, 2022

Y/N scooted towards Jisung, eyes peeking at whatever he was writing. "What are you doing?"

His head snapped at her direction, a surprised expression on his face. "Y/N, you scared me! Don't go creeping up on people's backs, it's scary!" She only gave him a hearty laugh, taking a seat beside him.

Jisung let out a sigh before chuckling, head turning back to his notebook. "It's a song," he says.

She shrugs. "You always write songs. Don't you do something else? Something more... fun?" Jisung gives her a laugh.

"Rich coming from someone who's also a band member," he rolls his eyes. she nudges his shoulder.

"I play music, not write them. Beating drums prove to be far more entertaining than composing." This earns her a smile from Jisung who turns back to writing again.

"It's kind of like a stress reliever for me. I get to say things i can't say. Pour out the feelings I can't show," he says.

She sat beside him silently, an amused expression on her face as she watched Jisung pour out his lyrics on his paper.

...

It feels so hard to watch you hurt

From the pain a lesson learned

This is how you find your way

July 23rd, 2022

1 ring. 2 rings. 3 rings. 4 rings.

She didn't want to answer her phone. Her weight had gone down yet she refused to move an inch. How many days had she skipped classes? She couldn't count how many.

Usually in cliché novels, it would rain dramatically in sync with the protagonist's melancholy. But it was the perfect weather; no rain, no scorching sun, no whistling wind. Just plain silence that gave such a temperature that was comfortable for everyone but her. Y/N cursed at the sky. She cursed at the simple noises by the street outside her house. She cursed at the faint droplet from the sink by her bathroom. She cursed at everything.

A loud banging from the front door disturbed the deafening silence. It irritated her. She tried to ignore it, hoping it would cease eventually but the more she ignored it, the more it became louder. It took more than half of her will to stand up from her bed, hair disheveled and almost stumbled down the stairs. She was pondering whether to open it or just pretend she was not home. Ths cold metal knob came in contact with her palm as she twisted it open. They stood in front of her, four faces agape with disbelief and distress. Chan was the first to speak.

"Why weren't you answering our calls? We were worried about you," he had a look of both guilt and responsibility. Minho looked like he was ready to scold her for neglect and Chan was not very pleased at the sight of her state. Jisung was giving her a sympathetic look.

"We know you're still sad about our loss. But that's normal. We lose some, we win some," Jisung says. "Here, I had Felix bake you a cake."

"I'm sorry," was all she could say.

...

You feel so lost, I've been there too

Skies so dark no way through

Stories only scars can tell

November 20th, 2022

Y/N knocked at the practice room door, clutching at her drumsticks in her hand. "Anyone here?"

Seungmin and the others stood behind her, sweat dripping through their shirts as they had finished their last band show for the university—a college farewell party.

A muffled answer came from inside the room. "I must've locked the door by accident. My apologies. Yes, I'm here." Jisung opened the door, his other hand occupied by the guitar he was holding.

"We're going out for a drink. You left the backstage so soon earlier so we came looking for you," Seungmin spoke from behind her.

"It's our last day as students, after all," Minho followed. Chan only gave a nod.

He pondered for a moment, pursing his lips and finally gave an answer. "I'm sorry. I might not be joining you guys this time, I have some... matters to attend to." Y/N gave him a puzzled look. "But I'll try to join once I'm finished."

"Are you sure?" Chan asked in which he responded with a nod. She looked at him, torn whether she should ask if he was doing alright or not. She went for the latter.

"Hey, are you alright?"

He gave her his most genuine smile. "Yes."

...

February 11th, 2023

The sun had barely touched the buildings when Y/N arrived at the studio. Just a few days ago, the band was running on sticks and stones with her being off beat and Minho being on the edge of losing his patience but today was different. Yesterday was the milestone of Stray Kids' first live musical performance as a band under a well-known label and it was definitely more than something to be celebrated about.

The moment she entered the label's building, a lively party had filled the place from ground to the top floor. It was as if yesterday the othe band had the same festivities right after theirs and that was a couple of weeks ago. It was the label's way of recognition over the bands' efforts.

She squeezed herself towards their room, sometimes bumping past shoulders of people that were familiar only by face but not by name. As soon as she reached the others, she let out a huff. Seungmin was by the side, pouring Jeong In a drink, her brother was laughing at Chan's antics, and Minho was looking at Chan with a weird expression as he always had. It was just like any other day.

Only, it felt incomplete.

As if a puzzle piece was missing.

She walked past Changbin, placing her drumsticks by her set and took her bag from her shoulders. He had given her a wave, greeting her but she didn't answer.

It felt wrong. It all felt very wrong. It felt... What was it? Unfair? Why was she feeling unfair? Was it because she was the only one who felt that way or was it because she was wondering why they never mentioned anything about him?

"Hey," she heard her brother speak from beside her, now leaving an occupied Chan who busied himself with Minho's weird expressions.

"Hey," was the only answer she gave.

"Are you alright? You look like you woke up on the bad side of the bed again," he responded back at her, his locks brushing at his left cheek but to which he paid no heed at. "Don't tell me you're having PMS again—"

"I'm not in the mood for jokes, Changbin," she cut off his sentence. Y/N sighed, glancing at everyone with both her eyebrows raised. Both spoke with a hushed tone that only they could hear. "Doesn't it feel wrong to you? Everyone's having so much fun, it's unsettling."

"Of course everyone is," he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. "It's your band's debut yet you're the only one who has that ugly, long face. Not that you're weren't ugly before."

She glared at him, ready to stab him with a drumstick the next time he cracks an untimely joke again. "I hate it. We shouldn't be celebrating so much like this. There's nothing to even celebrate about."

Apparently Changbin didn't like her statement. Even Y/N herself was surprised at her own words. "Y/N, I don't see the problem why we shouldn't be doing this and you won't even tell me why."

"I also don't see why you're not feeling the same way I am right now," she retored back at him.

"Feel what, Y/N? I don't get you. If you just told me—"

She had cut off his statement with a louder tone. "Why, you ask? I should be the one asking that. Why is everyone acting as if everything is okay? Why is no one talking about Jisung?"

She had said it too loud. Heads turned towards her, mouths shushed, and the only noise was the low volume music by the speakers.

"Why is it that everyone just started pretending that everything was back to normal and why did Chan pick up that rhythm guitar without even saying a word? As if Jisung had never been our member? As if he never existed?"

"Tell me, Changbin. Why is no one telling me why he had to take his own life?"

Her voice broke along with her heart as the room fell silent. The radio hushed, mouths shut, and the loud footsteps came to a stop. But her head did not.

Faces upon faces of pity, empathy, and confusion had stared at her. She didn't want any of that. She wanted an answer. A clear answer. She paid no heed to the pool of tears that had found themselves continuously streaming down her cheeks.

"Tell me. Why did I not ask if he really was okay and didn't know that his 'yes' was the last thing I was gonna hear from him. Tell me. Why did we not notice how much he was hiding himself behind his fake smiles.

"Tell me. Why are we so happy without him?"

She didn't hate Seungmin, or Minho, or Chan. Nor any of the other members and bands for celebrating. Nor any of this. She hated herself. Her ignorance. Her blind eye towards what he had actually been feeling. Her guilt.

It was guilt.

She should have listened. Not at the loud strums of his guitar. But at the silent screams of his heart. She should have.

if you know anyone struggling with d-pression, anxiety, or just need someone to talk to, please PLEASE reach out to them because they're not alone in this fight. you're not alone in this fight. we're not alone in this fight.

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virgil-my-emo-son · 1 month

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One Business Card Lighter

Dukeceit Week Day 4, Hair/Teeth!

Dukeceit week is run by @imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper ! @dukeceitweek @dukeceit-week-2024

I feel like I kind of cheated with the prompt... this is a punk singer Remus x comp sci professor Janus fic LOL. I'm so happy with this AU and honestly I might expand on it in the future. I've been working on a giant paper about punk fashion history so I tried to get the punk stuff as accurate as possible! Listened to a lot of Sex Pistols during the writing of this fic!

Also there's a fnaf reference in here if anyone's a fnaf fan 👀

Enjoy!!

Ao3

Janus stood awkwardly at the back of the room, holding his old fashioned in one hand, the other fiddling idly with the twist of orange zest in the glass. His eyes, however, were undistracted, glued to the small stage at the front of the bar.

He came to Junior’s for their jazz nights on Thursdays. He knew all of the hits that the bands usually played, and he was always interested to hear their original work. Sometimes it made Janus question why the artist had picked up music in the first place, and sometimes it made him wonder why the hell they were playing in a tiny little bar in the middle of the city instead of in the stadium just across the river.

Janus was used to Thursday nights. He liked Thursday nights.

But tonight was a Friday, and Janus had never been to Junior’s on a Friday.

For one thing, it was far more crowded than he was used to, mostly college students who were either freshly 21 or had good-enough fake IDs. Janus stayed at the back of the room, leaning against the wall and sipping on his drink, taking his eyes off the stage for a moment to scan the crowd. It would be a little awkward running into one of his freshmen from Computer Science 170 at a bar.

Janus only taught one 100-level class this semester, so it was a little less likely he’d run into those students than the juniors and seniors from his software engineering courses. Those students might be legally allowed in Junior’s, but it wouldn’t make an interaction any less uncomfortable.

Janus looked back at the stage. For another thing, Fridays were not jazz nights.

Fridays were punk nights.

The band onstage was… the best word Janus could think of was outrageous. He didn’t mean it negatively, but there was no denying they were provocative.

The drummer and bassist both had long hair. The drummer’s was pulled back, revealing a sleeveless shirt covered in strategic rips and tears, while the bassist’s fell in dark curtains over his white T-shirt that Janus was pretty sure had an upside-down crucifix. The guitarist’s hair was spiked to heaven, and he wore a jacket covered with enough patches and pins that Janus couldn’t tell what the original fabric was, with a T-shirt beneath reading FUCK OFF.

But what really caught his attention was the singer.

He was short, but the presence with which he commanded the stage made him seem seven feet tall. He marched around the stage in beat up work boots and dark, ripped jeans. A few tears near his thigh were patched with safety pins, affixing them to a grey Sex Pistols T-shirt with the eyes of each of the band’s members scribbled out. His hair was a calico dye job of orange, a weird orangey blond Janus could only assume was the result of an attempt to bleach the orange out, and dark brunette in spots he’d missed with both the orange and the bleach.

He was striking, and Janus found himself unable to stop watching his tongue as he rolled the “r” in “antichrist” during a jerky rendition of “Anarchy in the UK.”

Suddenly, the singer looked up, making direct eye contact with Janus. He winked—Janus could’ve sworn directly at him—as he sang, “Don’t know what I want, but I know how to get it!”

Janus suddenly couldn’t look at him any longer, a blush heating up his face. He took a fortifying sip of his alcohol.

Janus stayed for the rest of the set, despite not knowing a single one of the songs they played or even whether they were covers or originals. The fact that he recognized “Anarchy in the UK” was only because of his friend Virgil’s high school punk phase, and even that was a small miracle.

That singer…

“Thank you for coming out tonight!” He yelled over the drummer doing a long roll on the snare. “My name is Remus and we’re Hair and Teeth and fuck the IRS and fuck the military and fuck you all!” He kicked his foot up as the drum roll concluded with a smash on the cymbal.

The crowd went crazy, cheering and clapping and yelling stuff Janus couldn’t quite make out. The band walked offstage, and Janus was sure he locked eyes with Remus as he threw a kiss over his shoulder and disappeared into the back room.

The bar began to empty out as the evening got later and later, and Janus found himself sitting on one of the barstools, chatting with the bartender. It wasn’t the usual Thursday bartender, rather, a man in a red satin shirt with a loud laugh. He was fun to talk to, but all Janus could think about was Remus.

“Say, do you know the band just playing?” Janus set down his glass, leaning a bit on the bar. He’d moved on from his cocktail to a series of low proof beers. His small house was within walking distance of Junior’s, but despite his high tolerance for alcohol, he didn’t want to get too drunk.

“I do.” The bartender smiled. “I know them very well.”

“In what sense?”

The bartender indicated his head at something over Janus’s shoulder. “My brother.”

Janus looked behind him to see the singer, Remus, walking up to the bar.

His chest leapt.

“Can I have something on the house?” Remus stood by the bar, leaning on it with his forearms.

“No.” The bartender raised a judgmental eyebrow. “What makes you think I’d do that?”

“I’m your baby brother, Roman! You love me!”

Roman rolled his eyes. “No free drinks.”

Remus turned to Janus. “He’s so annoying.” His eyes raked up and down Janus, and he desperately wished he’d taken the time to change into something other than the pinstriped button-up shirt and plaid slacks he’d taught in. “Are you going to a wedding?”

Janus blinked. “Pardon?”

“You’re dressed all fancy.” Remus gestured to his outfit.

“No wedding, I’m afraid. Came from work.”

“What’s work?” Remus’s head tilted. “Office job? You The Man we hated on for an hour during our set?”

Janus gave a short laugh. “Not really. I’m a professor at Sanders University, computer science.”

Remus mimed a yawn. “Computer science? Boring.”

“And you’re a musician full-time, I assume?” Janus gave him a quick once-over. “You look the part, Remus.”

“Thank you, I am!” Remus winked. “You already know my name, so what’s yours, handsome?”

“Stop flirting in front of me right now.” Roman interjected, pointing a finger at Remus. “I don’t need to hear this. Out.” His finger moved to the door.

“Fine.” Remus moved his hand to hover over Janus’s. “Can I take your hand, handsome?”

“Depends. Where are you taking it?” A grin twitched at Janus’s mouth.

“Out of this bar!” Roman called over his shoulder.

“Yes.” Janus looked back to Remus, smiling in earnest.

A twinkle in his eye, Remus grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door of Junior’s. The street outside was busy, one of the main roads in town, and the glow from the streetlamps and signs of other bars, restaurants, and shops lit everything up.

Remus leaned against the wall. “So, come here often?”

Janus laughed. “Yes, every Thursday, actually. They have good jazz.”

“Jazz? Yeah, you’d like jazz.” Remus nodded.

“Whatever does that mean?”

“You just look like you’d listen to jazz music.” Remus nodded to his whole figure. “So, then, why’d you come tonight?”

“I just had a… a feeling I should.” Janus looked down. “I think I made the right decision, though.”

“So do I, handsome. I never got your name.” Remus tilted his head again.

“Janus.”

“Last name?”

“Constance.”

“Janus Constance?”

“Janus Constance.”

“Mm.” Remus hummed. “Interesting.”

Janus fumbled in his pocket for a moment. “I should be going, but I… here’s my card. Call me.” He held out a business card.

“A business card at the bar is hilarious.” Remus took it. “You’re definitely a professor.”

“Did you think I was lying?”

“Well, now I know for sure.”

“Mm.” Janus was amused.

“I’ll call you.” Remus’s eyes twinkled. “Professor Constance.”

“Please.” Janus rolled his eyes. “It’s Janus.”

“Alright, Janus. I’ll call you.” Remus took Janus’s hand again and held it up to his mouth, giving it a short kiss before winking again and walking away. Janus was left blushing on the sidewalk, one business card lighter.

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