#absolutely infuriating i just wanted a nice lowkey organizer and this is what you do to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luxekook · 4 years

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chapter two.

⇥ pairing: namjoon x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, chaotic namjoon, power tools, hints of poly relationships, overall pretty smut free (who AM i???)

Chapter Two

Habitat for Humanity Worksite – 9:26am

When I signed up to volunteer Saturday morning of syllabus week, I should have known I would end up regretting it. I almost punted my alarm clock out of the apartment window this morning, but instead settled a slightly more civil action – punching the shit out of the ‘off’ button.

Don’t get me wrong: I love volunteering. It’s been part of my routine since sophomore year when I was recruited for the all-women’s service society on campus – the Alphites. As a society, us Alphites volunteer around campus and in our local community each week. There’s something about doing service together that really creates bonds, and the girls in the society have quickly become some of my closest friends.

We sign up to volunteer for a variety of different service projects each week, and Habitat is my current favorite project to sign up for. As a nonprofit organization, Habitat for Humanity helps families build and improve places to call home. Currently, our regional Habitat is working on building a house from the ground up for a local family in need.

Disclaimer: I am in no way, shape, or form a very ‘handy’ person. Luckily for me, there are always a couple volunteers with construction or engineering backgrounds who are willing to teach other volunteers with less experience – or none, like me.

Since beginning to volunteer at the site last year, I have learned how to use a power saw, how to fasten siding, and how to mix, pour and level cement. It’s definitely empowering to learn new skills and also to see how my handiwork contributes to someone’s future home. I also feel lowkey badass when I get to use the power drill for anything.

Pulling up to the worksite, I clutch my cherished 24oz. Wawa coffee. I finally feel somewhat human as I park my beat-up Jeep Wrangler and hop out to meet the other volunteers for our task assignments.

The site leader Eddie – a burly retiree with a background in construction management – greets me with a huge grin, “(y/n)-doll, we missed you this summer! I can’t believe you abandoned us during the hottest months of the year.”

I roll my eyes, smiling at his teasing. Eddie’s like a teddy bear disguised as a grizzly – all rough edges and a heart of gold. “Missed you, too, Eddie.”

“Look at our progress now,” he continues, “Pretty impressive, yeah?” Nodding, I greet some regular volunteers I recognize as Eddie leads me around the house. He proceeds to show me what they had done over the summer in my absence – and they had done a lot. The house now had its full foundation and wooden framing with most of the doors and windows installed.

As we walk back to the front of the house to the main area, I sip my coffee and turn to Eddie, “So, what can I work on today, fearless leader?”

Letting out a patented ‘Eddie belly-laugh’, he replies, “I know you worked on the siding at our last site so I'm gonna have you work on where we started the siding on the right side of the house.”

Sweet, I could work with that. “Aye, aye, captain,” I respond with a lazy salute of my coffee cup. Before I can turn to start towards the scaffolding to begin, Eddie stops me.

“Oh, one more thing. I’m gonna need you to orient our new volunteer and let him shadow you today. Kid’s from the same school as you, I think… Mandatory service. Anyway, he should be here any minute.”

Shit, I know what ‘mandatory service’ means. It’s the first form of disciplinary action that the college issues and is usually the only form of disciplinary action for our athletes or for Greek life – a fact I actively resent. During my time in the Alphites, I have had to deal with some of these ‘mandatory service’ characters and they’ve never been much fun to be around.

“Ah, that’s probably him now,” Eddie startles me out of my thoughts of dread and doom as a black gleaming Tesla practically purrs down the block, swinging into the spot next to my Wrangler. Scowling, I cross my arms as I survey the stark contrast between this person’s shiny-ass luxury car and my dirty-ass well-loved Jeep.

The Tesla door opens. A Timberland booted foot emerges followed by a thick leg encased in light jeans, a tanned well-muscled arm…

No. Nope, it couldn’t be— Please, not today, Satan.

He stands with his back to us now, stretching out his large body. In only a cutoff t-shirt, his rippling back muscles might be enough to send me into an early grave.

I sigh in bitter defeat of the inevitable. Seriously, the fucking universe must have it out for me because I can’t seem to shake this stupid fucking fraternity.

As if the boy feels my eyes on him, he turns. His eyes immediately clash with mine as he slams his car door, clicking the lock over his shoulder. Those eyes – golden brown beneath dark brows and a wave of bleached blonde hair. Their focus is absolute – hard – as he strolls towards us. It’s almost as if he knows the maddening effect that he has on me.

I think Eddie is speaking, but my senses are on lockdown, his words muted. My thighs tighten as my pulse picks up. Get a fucking grip, (y/n). I can’t let him know that just one look from him has me thirsty and oxygen-deprived. I can’t look away – that would be succumbing to weakness.

Instead, I hold his heated gaze as best I can as his confident gait brings him closer. God, he’s got to be at least 6 foot...

The goddamn president of BTS Kim Namjoon is getting closer and I can’t help running my eyes over him.

His thighs flex and shift beneath his jeans with every calculated step. His abs are apparent under his tight cutoff shirt emblazoned with his fraternity letters.

Namjoon stops in front of us, hands stuffed into his back pockets, biceps flexing. “Nice to finally meet you, Eddie,” Namjoon takes his eyes off me long enough to greet Eddie and shake his hand, but then they’re right back on me, “Hi, (y/n).”

He drags out my name in a such a sinful way that even old Eddie does a slight doubletake. Clearing his throat unnecessarily loudly, Eddie booms, “You two know each other?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Our differing replies sound at the same time.

“Yes,” Namjoon repeats, lips turning up in an infuriating smile, “We have several mutual friends that she’s met a couple times now. Want me to jog your memory? I’d be more than happy to do so.”

Eddie takes one look at my face and hustles off, mumbling something about support beams. I guess my inner thoughts of ‘kill, maim, slaughter’ could easily be read from my facial expression.

Namjoon opens his mouth to speak again, but I’m faster, “Listen, Kim, I don’t know who you think you are, and, quite frankly, I don’t care. What I do care about is this house and these people working on it. Don’t fuck this up for me, okay? Let’s just get through today and then you can go back to ordering around your brothers and causing general mayhem.”

I’m feeling pretty proud of my little soliloquy until I realize he’s still smiling with those blasted dimples out in full display. No, his smile has grown even wider now as he simply answers, “The semester.”

My nose crinkles in confusion, “What?”

“The semester,” he repeats, “I’m assigned here every Saturday for the rest of the semester.”

I stare at him.

He smirks back.

I stare.

His smirk begins to fade, “Uh, did you hear me?”

I stare.

“Okay, you’re creeping me out now, (y/n),” Namjoon waves his giant paw of a hand in front of my face, “How many fingers?”

I break out of my trance of denial and hiss, “What did you do? Double homicide? Serial arson? Oh my god, you were the one who blew up the science lab!”

His hand covers my mouth – it’s rough and warm and entirely disarming.

“You have quite the imagination, jagi. I’ll keep that in mind,” Namjoon chuckles, “To answer your question, I did none of the above. Now, answer a couple questions of mine: what did you do to get here and – more importantly – why did you distract Jungkook from doing his fucking job on Monday?”

I glare in response, waiting for him to remove his hand from my mouth. He takes too long, and I lick his palm. It works. He removes his hand, but from the look on his face it seems like he liked my tongue on his skin entirely too much.

Thankfully, Eddie chooses the perfect moment to yell across the site, “What are you doing just standing there, (y/n)-doll? I don’t pay you to just loiter around all day!”

“You don’t pay me at all!” I yell back, already moving towards the trailer with all the supplies to get started. Namjoon follows.

“(y/n)-doll?” his eyebrows are raised as I hand him a pair of the biggest gloves I could find, “What’s up with that?”

Taking a pair of smaller gloves for myself, I turn to look for some hammers and nails as I respond, “I’ve been here a while. He’s like my honorary grandfather at this point.”

I spot the hammers and nails tucked away on the highest corner shelf and I huff. Namjoon follows my gaze, “Need a strong, intelligent, tall young man to grab those for you?”

He’s impossible, but for some reason it draws a small smile to my face, “Yes, that’d be great.”

The smile I receive in response is so bright I wonder if it could make flowers grow, “Okay, but only if answer my questions, (y/n).”

I shrug, trying not to notice how his cutoff shirt rises as he stretches to reach the upper shelf. I catch a sudden glimpse of his abs, and I praise every god out there that hot weather can be blamed for my sudden onset of sweat.

Clearing my throat, I laugh lightly, “Fine, first of all, I didn’t ‘distract’ Jeon. I just had a temporary lapse in judgement. Besides, he came to me all on his own.” His back muscles tense up at my words, but I continue, “And second of all, there’s no juicy story of how I got here. I just volunteer here every Saturday for the Alphites.”

The sound of a hammer hitting the floor startles me as he whirls around, “You’re an Alphite?”

Namjoon’s tone is one of disbelief and it’s a tone I do not appreciate, “Yes, why is that so hard to believe?” My arms cross defensively, “I’ve been a sister since my sophomore year...”

I trail off. He’s still gawking at me ridiculously. Narrowing my eyes, I stride across the trailer and grab his chin, closing his mouth for him, “Watch out, Kim, you’re gonna catch flies.”

Spinning on my heels, I sashay out of the trailer, nose held high in the air and satisfaction held even higher. He’ll catch up. After all, he’s basically supposed to be my bitch today.

I climb up the scaffolding next to the house’s right side and assess the siding work that has already been started. It looks pretty solid and level. I should have no issue with continuing without having to make any initial corrections.

The sound of a bucket of nails hitting the top platform I’m sitting on alerts me of Namjoon’s impending presence. Saving the bucket from teetering over the edge – a safety hazard for sure – I watch amusedly as Namjoon struggles stay upright and climb up to where I am on the scaffolding. Finally, he plops down next to me – entirely too close. I can feel his stare on my skin as I steadfastly ignore him.

“Hey, jagi,” he pokes my arm, “(y/n), listen, you just caught me off guard. I mean, you don’t seem like the type to be an Alphite – that’s all.”

Fury curls up inside me for the umpteenth time that morning, as I turn to face Namjoon with a sickly-sweet smile that has him flinching back, “Then do tell, Namjoon, what type I seem to be?”

I pick up the hammer closest to me and dip a hand into the nail bucket. The sooner this siding got done, the sooner I could haul ass out of here.

“I feel like that’s a trick question,” Namjoon sighs, rubbing a hand over his chin, “I didn’t mean anything bad by it, okay? I guess I just have always thought that your society was a bunch of mom-types—”

I cut him off with a swing of my hammer in the air, “What’s wrong with mom-types, you uncultured swine? And is serving your community really such a ‘mom’ thing to do? I’m sorry. I must have missed that memo. Here I was thinking that it was public service but go off I guess.”

He blinks, “Did you just call me an ‘uncultured swine’?”

I sniff in indignation, “Get with the times, Kim. I just roasted your ass. Now hand me that piece of siding and make yourself useful.”

“You’re so weird,” Namjoon mutters, sliding my request over to me.

“So what?” I shrug, “All the best people are weird. Now, do me a solid and explain to me why you and your ‘brothers’ keep suspiciously popping up everywhere I go.”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” he grins, “We’re interested.”

“What does that even mean? That you’re interested?” I wrack my brain, “As in all seven of you fuckers?”

“It means, jagi,” Namjoon pauses, leaning closer, “It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”

a/n: i love namjoon. that is all.

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles @leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @athletes-of-god @karissassirak @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cvbachacbitch @bewitch3dforivar @honeyspillings @xxonyxpearlxx @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @fivesecondsofsarang

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messwriting · 3 years

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agonizing delight.

this is settled inside Poison and Pleasure universe; inspired by this ask (thanks nonnie <3)

warnings: toxic relationship; smut, fingering in a car; lowkey exhibitionism; mentions of ownership along prostitution lines; lowkey fem-dom? writer being a tease.

Osamu’s eyes on you feel like burning coils, sharp darkness surrounded by cracked fire. It rolls off him in waves even as he stays quietly leaning against the wall in the hotel room, dressed in comfortable sweats and a dark t-shirt, black hair sleek back after a shower.

It does wonders for you that his eyes rack over your body even then, as you’re clad in nothing but lace, stockings and heels, your party gown ready by the mirror, a sparkling but somehow discreet Elle Saab of-the-shoulder with v-neckline and a charming front slit you plan on using later.

“Yer crazy.” He tells you with a even tone, bulging arms crossed over toned, broad chest. His posture is a good imitation of a laid back one, but you can easily pinpoint the stiffness in his shoulders, the tenseness in his legs and the strain on his neck to avoid looking at your form in underwear. “I’ve never agreed to anythin’ like this.”

“So?” Your smile curves on one side, perfectly traced red lips challenging as you look at over your shoulder, a perfectly arched eyebrow and even better looking face daring him to test you. In front of you, laid over the bed still inside the plastic protection is a expensive suit, if the Armani on it’s cover is anything to go by. “Your point being?”

You chuckle, amused, as his lips turn sour and his hands close into fists; his distaste always breaks through the collected exterior he likes to portray in front of you.

“I’m not your little doll for you to dress me as ya want.” His tone doesn’t go up, instead it turns deeper and what the angered answer does to your insides is a proof of how many devilish things he has groaned to you using that same voice.

You pick the suit from the bed with a careful curled finger, sharp manicured nail bright red tonight; then you walk over him with nothing but wicked intentions travelling from your eyes to your hips, nude Jimmy Choos sandals on your feet tonight.

You stop in front of him, your neck bending to pierce his black eyes with your dark ones. There’s a urge settling in your gut at how he looks down at you, restless and vibrating with aggression, that makes your eyes slide carefully to his lips and quickly climb back to his stare. You lick your lips to make a point.

“First off, that’s exactly what you are: mine to do as I want.”

It never ceases to delight you as that makes Osamu darken, sneer almost making it way to his pretty stoic face as a shadow crosses his expression. Fuck. You can only imagine how good he’d fuck you now, maybe even bend you over his knee for a little spanking before burying his cock in your cunt. It’s a pity you have other plans for tonight. “And secondly, this is just a precaution. You’ll be accompanying me to this event and I’m sure you don’t have a suit-”

“I have a fucking’ suit.” Osamu spits your way and you feel your blood rushing thick in your veins, your chest growing heavy as your lips spread in a smirk.

You give a pointed look at his clothes. “Not one good enough to accompany me with.”

“Fuck ya.”

“Maybe later.” You dismiss him with a wave of your hand as you hang the suit off his thick arm. “Now go change so I can see if it needs tailoring. I do think I got a nice hang of your sizes, but who knows, I can be wrong.”

The way you say is teasingly, as if you doubt that’d be the case and you shoo him from the room as you walk over to your own gown, a discreet but sparkly, beautiful thing with slit up front. Osamu hates that he enjoys the image his brain produces of you in it.

When he comes out of the bathroom, Osamu is distressed about the fact the suit is a perfect fit, if only a bit too snug on his arms and shoulders. He supposes it’s still a incredible job done when no one took his measurements. His hair is slicked back and he’s refusing to add the rich cuffs that were atop the bathroom sink, but his whole brain stills to a halt as he lays eyes on you.

It’s ridiculous, infuriating, and disgusting that his blood picks up, rolling thicker at the sight of you in that expensive dress, clearly designed for you to wear. Osamu’s mouth waters with the prospect of picking you up and tearing it all apart, laying marks on your skin that’ll stay for days, destroying that beautiful make-up and hair you have on to leave you in nothing but tears, spit and sweat.

Now he’s hard.

Fuck.

You pointedly look at his now tight slacks but doesn’t comment besides a snarky smile that already says too much for his taste. When you two walk outside the Hotel, there’s already a car waiting and Osamu expends the time pondering just how the fuck he ended up in such a fucking mess. He did his work, he planned, organized, invested- for what? To still end up your lap dog somehow?

Fuck him.

Osamu isn’t ready when the car rolls to a stop in front of the Japan’s Society Annual Charitable Ball and he stays unprepared when the night ends and he’s back at the same place he started, with nothing but a weird sense of dread sparkled by how nice the night went.

He did absolutely nothing besides enjoying good music and splendid food, with free booze and no interaction. At the VIP table you two sat you chatted away with old money and politics and CEOs alike, but besides the occasional greeting, people where perfectly content with letting Osamu sulk in his corner. Incredible.

“So, what did you think?” You ask him with a annoyingly knowing smile, sitting in front of him in the small limousine. Osamu rolls his eyes and snort.

“Why ask if ya’ know?”

“Just thought you could be a good boy and say the truth for once.” You smile his way and Osamu feels the hairs on his nape stand on end like a omen of bad luck. You look way too good and Osamu hates it. Hates even more that he can’t help but fantasize about when you’re disheveled and panting. “You had a good time.”

“Sure,” He drags out as his eyes travel from your perfect face to your sparkly dress, then over the painfully well-placed high slit. “Only because of the food.”

He’s not joking. The food was such a highlight he could barely remember anything else; even the fact two fancy pants tried to tease him over his accent was already shoved to the back of his mind, but maybe it had to do with the swift way you shut their traps with one clearly polished jab. After that Osamu indulged his palate in the Michelin stars menu, almost vibrating in his seat at each new plate.

“Good. I thought you’d enjoy that.” It’s the first time he sees that smile on your lips and it makes your features glow under the streets lights. The back of the limo seems to fade into darkness as your frame becomes his sole focus: your eyes trailing over buildings outside, mouth quirked up and body clad in regal looks.

Osamu feels distressed inside his own head, his chest constricting in a weird way at how you say those words. As if you’d thought about it. As if you stopped, considered, and concluded that he’d like this, so you brought him along. The Miya don’t want to consider the meaning behind this, doesn’t want to ponder over it’s existence and even worse, it’s significance. So he does what he’s used to, and he starts by what he knows best.

Osamu brings his shoes to slide between your own and kicks your legs open, a surprised gasp falling from your lips as your legs separate to show him smooth skin and lace, exactly what he knew that awaited him and even so his heart speeds up at the sight.

He inclines himself on the seat, the short distance perfect to allow one of his hands to fall on the inside of your thighs, gliding up as the other skims over your waist and chest and closed on your neck. Soft, at first, then tighter as his fingers reach your underwear.

Your eyes stay on his, drinking the aggression from him as if it fuels your pleasure, his fingers working expertly on your folds and finding them already moist.

“You sure love this, don’t ya.” Osamu murmurs against your face, close but still far away. “What is it, exactly- the power or the stimulation?”

Your mouth splits in that mischievous grin that makes his body burn brighter, his fingers trailing with measured pressure over your entrance, then over your labia to draw circles on your pretty clit.

“Why are those my only options?” You breathe out with a soft moan as he aims his circles sharply over the sensitive nerve. “Maybe I just like the company.” You say in teasing and Osamu snorts, feels his shoulders growing taut in annoyance and merciless split you open on two thick fingers.

“Let’s see how much ya like the company once I’m done with ya.” Osamu groans but your smile just turn wider, wicker as you hold the challenge in your eyes. Your pussy so wet the noises of his fingers in and out of you - scissoring and pressing, thumb rolling over your clit - become embarrassingly loud.

You throw a look over his shoulder, sharp and hungry. “Driver, roll up the partition, please. We’ll tell you when to stop driving.”

Osamu’s face burns in shame at the realization of just what he’s been doing with an audience, but then your nails are dragging over his scalp and curving on the back of his neck and he can’t think about consequences when his dick throbs like that.

Fuck, maybe that’s his problem to begin with. His brain clearly ceases functioning when his blood is all locked in his fucking dick. Your juices are dripping enough that his third finger slide inside your walls nice and easy and Osamu thinks that’s more than you deserve already.

He sits back at the cushioned seats, smirks at the indignant stare you throw his way at the loss of a approaching high and unbuttons his slack to allow his throbbing, hard cock to spring free. There’s a acid feeling curling in his chest along with desire and Osamu glares at you for making him this fucked up, to make his skin feels on fire and his heart beat on his cock and his brain shut down as his whole being is overwhelmed with his want to end you.

“Better make good use of this.” His hand curls around his thick shaft, pumps lazily at it as if it would falter without the stimulation and not as if the lack of it was torture for him. “You’re paying good money for it, right?”

“Own,” You coo, hands clawing on the seat to help you up and then over him, clumsy legs falling open on each side of his knees as you arch yourself over him. “Is my little whore feeling down?” You hold yourself up on your knees enough to line your pussy over the head of his cock, sharp intake of breath and delighted laugh at how he bites at your breasts in rebellion.

“There, let me sit on my cock then.”

You sink on him, inch by delicious inch, and Osamu growls at the agonizing delight cursing through him. That’s it. He’s the bearer of his own self-destruction and you’re the instrument. He’s doomed.

#p and p #leetle presents #osamu miya smut #osamu miya x reader #tw toxic relationship

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sae-you-sae-me · 6 years

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Ok so I wanna start off with you guys are amazing and don't stop no matter what! Um but I would like to request mushy headcanons for when the RFA + V + Saeran are in the process of planning their weddings with MC. Thanks so much!

Thank you so much! And thanks for this request:) Hope you like it~

Zen:

He was just really excited that it was happening at all

But it was slightly overwhelming when he saw that binder of stuff to do

Unfortunately, besides finding vendors and caterers, he wasn’t that involved in the first few months

But he got a tiny bit more involved when it came to choosing colors

Unfortunately, he wasn’t that great at choosing colors

Either the colors looked the same or he ended up picking weird matches

He preferred your choice anyway,

So he was kinda bummed that he was once again only slightly involved

This was soon mended when it came to invitations

Turned out his handwriting was really nice thanks to all those fansigns

He was excited to write out all the invitations by hand…at least until he had fifty done and fifty left to go

He got more sentimental as the months drew closer, simply because the wedding day was getting closer too and he was excited to marry you

Yoosung:

He’s completely lost at first

You’re telling him all these things that need to be done within a year, and he’s already getting overwhelmed

So he kind of tries to escape the problem, leaving a lot of decisions to you

You finally manage to get him more involved in the hands-on stuff rather than the paper planning

He can see and feel things, and somehow that makes the reality of the wedding more prominent in his eyes

His favorite part was planning the catering, because of the taste testing

When it came to cakes, he kept wanting to feed you

You two were planning on doing that during your wedding

And he was terrified that he would end up smushing it against your nose if he didn’t practice

You thought it was so cute…you really couldn’t wait to marry this man

Jaehee:

It was really easy because she was so on top of everything

You didn’t really have to do much but actually make the decisions on colors and food and styles

She had everything else organized and ready to go

Turns out being Jumin’s assistant for years was really helpful in planning a wedding

But, you still wanted to hide your dress from her

You wanted it to be a surprise from absolutely everybody

She wasn’t too happy about this, and it became a kind of joke between you two

She kept trying to find it or get a peek

One time she actually thought she succeeded when she found a dress hidden in your closet

It was literally the ugliest thing on the planet

You came in a second later laughing

You planted it there as a joke, knowing she was snooping around

But seeing you in your real dress on your wedding day was worth the wait

Jumin:

He was both helpful and infuriating

He was super involved in things like color choices, themes, favors, etc.

But he was also intent on hiring some planners to take care of the smaller things

At first, you were really upset because you were hoping you two would plan everything yourselves

But then he told you he wanted the wedding to be as stress free as possible for you

You decide to give the planners a shot, and it turned out that they came in handy the closer the wedding date came

Somewhere in the midst of a late evening, he made a joking comment that he was going to make Elizabeth the ring bearer

You took him seriously for a second and panicked

But he was only amused and kept teasing you that he was going to do it

He insisted he was the one who took care of the wedding rings though

You didn’t find out why until the wedding day and found a small engraving with both of your initials on the inside

You fell in love with him all over again on the altar

Seven:

You weren’t worried about his enthusiasm to help

But you were little worried about his tendency when it came to decorating decisions

You were fully prepared to carry on most of the planning when it came down to it

But then he surprised when he comes to you with this little booklet

It’s full of different color swatches he picked up

He even matched the ones he thought would go together—and they’re themed

He has a starry, space theme, but also other lighter themes he thought you might like

Of course, you two ended up with a starry theme for the wedding

He ordered samples of everything, from the table cloths, favors, drapes

And he insisted on keeping them at his house so you two could see

So for the whole year you two were planning, the bunker was transformed into a galaxy blue mess

You two did most of the planning yourselves, and you were exhausted by the time the day came

But the finished product was amazing, and you two finally had your own version of a space station wedding

Saeran:

He never thought he’d get to the point where he would actually want to marry someone

When he saw the checklist and the binder for planning, he was lowkey panicking

He didn’t want to tell you though, and tried to go on as normal

You kind of noticed though

So you took care of the smaller details while you included him in the big decisions

Still, the anxiety is pent up inside of him

And he finally breaks right before the ceremony

He’s freaking out and he really wants to see you

Your bridesmaids are trying to stop him, saying he can’t see you in your dress

But neither one of you care about that, so you rush out and take him away to a secluded area

It’s near the reception hall, and as he’s calming down he can see all the planning you two did together come to fruition

For some reason, that was what calmed him down the most and solidified the thought that he really did want to marry you

He was compliant on everything

Which was infuriating

It was always him saying, “Whatever you want” or “Yeah, if you like it go ahead.”

It took awhile to get him to state his opinion

You two ended up settling on a simple and classy style

His polaroids of you two together were sprinkled throughout the decorations

And you two made a lot of the decorations together

One of your favorite things about planning was the bride and groom wear

You two had those matching slippers that you wore even after the wedding

Check out our other headcanons~ Masterlist

#kappaprincess #mystic messenger #mystic messenger zen #hyun ryu #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #jumin han #saeyoung choi #luciel choi #saeran choi #mystic messenger v #jihyun kim #mystic messenger scenarios #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger imagines

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