#poke rainbow idols

[c3stlav1e]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥   basics 

♡ .  stage name: sohee

♡ .  birth name: yoon sohee

♡ .  birthday: june 30, 1997

♡ .  zodiac: cancer

♡ .  birthplace: incheon, south korea

♡ .  ethnicity: korean

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥   personal

♡ . personality

sohee is first and foremost soft, sweet, and generally sensitive. she chooses to be trusting and always actively tries to see the good in people first. this leads her to make excuses for people when she shouldn’t sometimes, but it also allows her to make connections with people more naturally. she tends to act pretty childlike at times, both the good and the bad. she gets excited easily, and people find her very endearing. she cries when she gets frustrated which usually makes her even more frustrated because it becomes harder to communicate. she can be rather self critical with a need for validation that can lead her into unhealthy spirals. this, combined with her inherent trusting and idealist attitude and her past trauma has led her into multiple toxic relationships in the past.

♡ . family

. jang hyemi ; mother

. yoon gwangjae ; father

. yoon minhee ; younger sister

♡ . physical

. height: 160 cm ( 5’3” )

. faceclaim: yoo siah “ yooa ”

. body mods: none

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥   professional

♡ . label: mgc entertainment ; rainbow entertainment

♡ . training period: 4 years at mgc entertainment ; 2 years at rainbow entertainment

♡ . group position: lead dancer, sub vocalist

♡ . idol persona

although not the maknae, she is often seen as the baby of the group. her sweet and innocent-like persona and visuals quickly made her the nation’s darling once again. she is the second most popular member domestically after anya, but prefers to take performance or acting experiences over modeling. she has appeared in a few dramas, the most popular being her role as jookyung in true beauty. she is rather touchy and in any given piece of content for the group, you will likely see her cuddled up with a member at any given time. she is the member most likely to do aegyo without putting up a fuss, and lovies have dubbed her the queen of aegyo both for this reason and because she manages to actually look impossibly cute while doing it. she loves to interact with fans, and there are endless compilations of “soft sohee moments with fans” on the internet. she is also a huge cat lover with a cat of her own that is constantly featured in her social media posts. she will take any opportunity to coo over a cat whether its one that is just minding its business in the street or if a fan takes the time to show her one in a fancall. she will send pictures of cats in their messaging service and always captions it with “this reminded me of our cutest lovies,” and she will happily don any animal ears given to her proudly. but especially the cat ones. she is the most likely to cry at their concerts and her members like to poke fun at her for it at times, tomi posting a full slideshow of pictures of her crying for her birthday several years in a row.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥   history tw ; csa

sohee has always been a pretty baby. everyone always told her parents so. no one had ever seen a baby more beautiful and sweet-natured, they said. she was perfect. on a whim when she was just about to turn 2, her mother entered her in a beautiful baby contest run by a famous childcare brand looking to find their next baby models. her win set her on an unexpected path of billboards and fame, the citizens of korea all knowing her name and cooing over her image before she could even form full sentences. she kept modeling and appearing in commercials throughout her childhood. she was a darling sensation in the late 90s and early 2000s, even brands like samsung sought her out for advertisements. she first realized her dream of becoming an idol when was around 5 and she had to perform a rendition of a children’s song for one of her commercials. it was her biggest hit, the catchy jingle and her cute little face boosting the company’s sales ten-fold. 

she kept modeling and acting in commercials for years, but as she got older, she began to book less and less. she was still pretty, they said, but she was losing that same toddler charm she once had. when she was 9 years old, she and her parents were approached by a scout from mgc entertainment, the company of one of the highest-selling girl groups of the time. her parents were a little hesitant, not only ready to be done with the industry they had been sucked into so suddenly, but believing sohee was too young to be a trainee. the scout was convincing enough though, telling her parents that they wanted to make her the next boa. sohee begged and begged for them to let her join, and after a week or so of consideration, finally agreed. she did an obligatory audition but was immediately accepted, the company seeking her out for her visuals and her already hefty resume as a child model. 

she enjoyed her training at first, happy that she spent her days learning to sing and dance with other kids her age. that was until one of the dance instructors began giving her special treatment. he always gave her praise in front of the class despite berating other kids, he would give her special lessons in his own studio, and eventually he began making advances on her. she didn’t understand it at first. she liked being his favorite, even though some of her friends began to turn on her because of it. she liked being praised and encouraged. but often times she was self-conscious of the way he would put his hands on her while guiding her movements, or his tone of voice when he would speak to her when they were alone. 

it got to the point where one day, she begged and begged her mom to let her stay home from practice and quit being a trainee. concerned for her daughter after her initial excitement, she eventually got the truth out of sohee and was enraged. her parents immediately took the issue to the company, but they informed them that they had signed exclusive 5-year contracts with them, including nda clauses. the company threatened the family with legal action if they continued to speak on the issue or if they pulled sohee out of the training program. unable to risk the costs, they reluctantly sent sohee back to the program. they warned her to stay away from the teacher as much as she could, but to tell no one else about the issue.

the next day after class, the teacher pulled her aside and told her that she would never make it in the industry if she couldn’t handle special treatment. that he was only helping her to reach her dreams and that every girl who had ever made it as a star had been in her position. she kept attending his lessons after that.

she was always torn. she still had a deep love for performing. she got lost in a dance or a song, relishing in the way she felt strong and impenetrable when she was on the stage. but she was slowly becoming more isolated, and the instructor made her feel wrong for wanting to chase this dream. in the 5th year of her training, the final year of her dreaded contract, one day she arrived to the studios where she had spent years practicing and found them entirely abandoned. it turns out that the company had been under investigation for fraud, money laundering, and csam related crimes for the past few months. suddenly everything that she had been working for, that she had been suffering for, disappeared before her very eyes.

it took years for her to get over the crushing loss of her dream and even begin to heal from the trauma she had experienced. 3 years after the disappearance of mgc entertainment, just after her 16th birthday, another scout approached her on the street on behalf of rainbow entertainment. she denied her at first, struggling to even hold a conversation as anxiety rubbed raw at her throat, but she took her card, if only to get away quicker. but the longer she considered it, the more she was reminded of what her dream had meant to her. her parents were hesitant at first, not quick to forget the way she was torn apart when this dream did not work out before, bit after seeing her renewed determination, they agreed. but not before hiring a lawyer to sit in on any contract signing.

she found a new life while training at rbe, a renewed passion for what she had longed for before. she still struggled with symptoms of ptsd at times, but she had found a strong support system in her friends, especially seolah who she had quickly found solace in. she was overcome with joy on their debut day, hardly unable to stop crying as her dream finally came to reality after everything she had gone through to get there.

#c’est la vie ! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ profile ♡ . #c’est la vie ! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ sohee ♡ . #tw csa #oc kpop idol #fictional kpop community #fictional kpop group #fictional kpop idol #oc kpop gg #oc kpop group #fake kpop group #fake kpop idol #fake kpop oc #kpop oc #fake kpop addition #fictional idol group #oc idol #idol oc #fictional idol community #kpop idol oc

[timextoxhajima]

Boundary [Dana’s 700 Special]

Track: Fever - Enhypen / TiO - Zayn / Close - Nick Jonas, Tove Lo

➣ Member: my og bias owo

➣ Genre: idol! ju x stylist! [fem] reader

➣ Warnings: swear words and if you squint, some smut

➣ Word Count: i’m like 100% sure it’ll be as long as accelerate [i was wrong it’s nowhere near but whatever]

➣ A/N: Thank you for 700 followers. You are all nothing but amazing ♡

➣ Taglist: @taesty-wander-lust​ @tbzzhoe​ @suzy-rainbow​ 

He’s going to be the absolute death of me.

The thought is loud in your head, and you were almost sure you would’ve blurted it out had the filming studio been empty. Breaking Dawn was blasting from the speakers behind the MV director, experimenting with some strange angles that you’ve never seen any other MV director try with the group before. 

If you thought Reveal was dangerous, this might be worse.

“Okay! Let’s do that hook into the chorus first and we’ll see how that angle goes!”

“Breaking Dawn, I see-”

“Cut! Juyeon-” The director snorts while staring at the monitor from the camera. “That was great but um, we’ll need to rate the video if we release this one.”

Never mind. It is worse.

“Yah, Juyeon!���

“Ahh... seriously?”

“You already have enough screen time, why are you so greedy?!”

The members crowd around Juyeon and shove him playfully as the director films that part from the monitor, and brings his cellphone over to the group to see. You can barely hear the music from the phone, given how far you were standing from the filming area. 

The group of 11 burst into loud yells and frustrated groans, with Younghoon and Chanhee giving their iconic ‘OoO’ faces to Juyeon. The main man chuckles, embarrassed, and shakes his head while waving it off.

“I didn’t intend to make it so suggestive, sorry!”

“It’s alright, that was great, really!” The director assures him. “It’s just that we can’t release that without rating the MV, and you guys don’t really have that kind of reputation yet so, we won’t do that for you guys now. But anyways, can we get a 10 minute break and we’ll pick up where we left off?”

The boys celebrate in unison, Eric immediately rushing off for the washroom, some members going to the staff to ask for their phones, others going for the monitor to check their progress and the remaining approaching their stylists for appearance maintenance.

So, when Juyeon approaches you with that sly-mixed-with-shame smile, you can’t help but to shake your head at him. 

“Really? He asks you to go all out and you look like you want to eat the camera,” Pulling open your little kit, you set it on the table next to you. You pull out the comb and hairspray and start adjusting his hair again - all that dancing’s pushed some strands out of its rightful position.

“Aw, so you agree that I looked good enough?”

“What?” The pitch is higher than expected, but you hope your feigned annoyance camouflages the pinch of jealousy. “Please! The director said it’ll be rated!”

Juyeon laughs, standing with his feet a little more apart than natural for you to have easier access to his hair. 

“Well, you’re the one who did my hair and makeup. If it’s anybody to blame, wouldn’t it be you?” 

His words halt the sharp end of your comb in his hair, and you poke it into his scalp for good measure while puffing out your cheeks. He chuckles it off. 

“Excuse you, sir, Cre.Ker gave me a color palette and a set of reference pics. Ever since they cracked the code with you with Reveal, they just won’t stop with this genre of style on you.”

“I mean... I definitely prefer my current style over what they did to me in Boy.”

The memory cooks up a bunch of images in your head, and you fail to stop the giggle that runs off your tongue when you return the comb to the kit. 

“Aw, come on, that was cute,” Picking up a brow pencil, you fill in the tiny fade-out. “You were, what? 19? No reason for you to look as raunchy as you do now.”

“It’s a pity you only met me just before I become ‘raunchy’.”

“Why? I mean, ‘Juyeon’s not a good boy’ though. Raunchy’s closer to that than what you did pre-Reveal.”

“I meant it!” Juyeon widens his eyes and his brows shift up his forehead just as the tip of the brow pencil lifts off his skin. “I’m happy Cre.Ker’s letting us show what we want to.”

“And I’m happy for you too,” You finish up on his foundation where it’s starting to wear off. “But one day, you’re gonna cross a line and break some hearts.”

Juyeon smiles as you cap on all your equipment and close your kit. Resting one hand on your hip, you quickly give his hair one last poke before he resumes his normal standing position.

“What if I only want to break specific hearts though?”

A frown befalls your face and you forge an ugly look by crooking your lips. “What? Was that an attempt to flirt? Please stop,” Waving him off, you turn and pick up your kit, walking away on your heels as Juyeon tails you.

He’s just practising flirting on me at this point. Best friends and best friends for what? Get MY heart broken? PLEASE.

“Flirt with Kevin if you want, he’ll give you better advice,” You turn to the film area and sure enough, Kevin was busy twerking into the camera and Changmin’s just face palming himself. 

“Oi Kevin! Stahb it!” You yell across the space and Changmin points to you, turning to yell at Kevin.

“Yah, even y/n’s telling you to stop!”

Chuckling, you turn into the dressing room as another hair stylist finishes with Sangyeon in the mirror. 

“Hello sir, you look kinda tired today, are you resting well?”

“Don’t get me started. Schedule’s packed into June,” Sangyeon subtly shakes his head, but his stylist holds his cheeks and shifts his face back to face the mirror.

“Sangyeon, please face the mirror. It’s not my fault if your hair gets messed up again,” The hair stylist grins as he picks up the hairspray.

“Sorry,” Sangyeon blinks at him and purses his lips. Juyeon crashes into the two seater-sofa in the corner of the dressing room and groans tiresomely, resting his head on the top surface of the headrest. 

“Well, you should get some rest before Kingdom kicks in,” You place the kit on the dressing table and sit down in the two-seater next to Juyeon. “It’s not going to be an easy fight, y’know.”

“Right! You used to be ATEEZ’s hairstylist!” Sangyeon’s eyes widen and you can see him struggling not to turn to you directly instead of trying to find you in the strangest angle of the reflection in the mirror. 

“Yeah. Those guys are intense, and I mean intense! Six out of eight are known for performance skills and the other two... one produces 99% of their tracks and the other belts out notes even I can’t reach.”

“You sound like you were sent from KQ to intimidate us-” Sunwoo struts in and waves an annoying finger in your face.

“I’m not-” Swatting his finger away, Juyeon leans forward and pulls Sunwoo’s hand. “I’m just saying for good measure- it’s not going to be easy. Stray Kids is also going to be great competition, not to mention iKON and-”

“AhHH, we get it!” Sunwoo shushes you, swinging his hand with Juyeon’s.

“No matter the outcome, you all need to know that you guys were stellar last year. I was new then, but it was absolutely stunning to watch you guys work and put so much effort into your performances.”

“Oh my God, yeah, you could not shut up about the Danger performance,” Sangyeon cooes, letting his stylist finally finishes and shifts to pack the hair equipment. 

“I’ll bet it’s cause your best friend over here got the most screen time,” Sunwoo perks up a mischievous brow and smirks at you.

Juyeon’s eyes widen and stares at the youngest, “I didn’t get the most screen time.”

“If not you then who?” Sangyeon butts in as he stands.

“Uh... Changmin?”

Sunwoo and Sangyeon go quiet. 

“Yah, you had a good amount of screen time too!” Sangyeon turns and blurts out at Sunwoo, playfully shoving him. 

“Y’all are being loud in here,” Kevin’s head pops out from beyond the door frame, one of his stylists tagging behind him and struggling to pat down his clothes. 

“No, tell me if Sunwoo had more screentime than Changmin in Danger from last year,” Sangyeon wraps an arm around Sunwoo and slowly walks him out. 

“What? I don’t know, Changmin had the opening and the dance break...”

Sangyeon’s hairstylist follows closely, and by instinct, he shuts the door behind him, leaving you with Juyeon in the dressing room. It’s humid, from all the lights turned on in the room, and the leather seat wasn’t the most comfortable thing to sit on.

Turning to Juyeon, his eyes are gently shut, and frankly, he looked like he was about to fall asleep. The backrest of the sofa sinks when you lean back, mimicking his position.

“You have like four minutes left so don’t even think of falling asleep.”

“I’m not sleeping,” He offers a tiny smile on his lips, eyes still shut. 

“Sure, you’re not.”

“Wake me up when the director needs me.”

“You wish,” The leather under your legs squeak when you push yourself off, but he sticks out an arm at your stomach and pushes you back down. Judging by the miniscule smirk on his face, he’s just messing with you. “What do you think you’re doing? I have a job to do and you have a music video to film.”

He remains quiet. Someone shouts at Eric outside.

“You’re being fucking weird today, sir,” You lift a hand and grab his arm to move it away, but he swiftly wraps his fingers around your wrist and yanks you forward instead. 

Using your palms to keep the distance between your faces, you’re hovering above him now, breath on his upper lip. The sweat’s begun to collect in the lines of your palms, stuck to the arm rest by his side and the cushion he’s leaning on. 

Your vision immediately darts to his face upon the bold move, and he’s got that slight smile prancing on his lips when he’s thinking of a joke or something funny and doesn’t want to say it. It’s been a good year of being Juyeon’s best friend (apart from the members), so you’ve definitely grown to know how to read him by his actions.

You sigh, rolling your eyes and removing your legs from next to his thighs.

“Juyeon-”

And then he cuts you off by holding you in position with his arm around his waist, challenging your knees to hold you up - because if they buckled, you’ll land right on top of him. 

“What the Hell do you think you’re doing?” 

Knock knock

“y/n, are you done with Juyeon’s hair? Filming’s resuming!”

There’s an awkward tension between you and Juyeon now, with his eyes wide open and staring into yours, arm still around your waist. But having his nose just inches away from yours and his breath breathing down on your philtrum feels so surreal. It feels like it’s a dream that you’ve failed to pull yourself out from.

He parts his lips, then purses them, and sighs through his nose. 

“Yeah, she’s done! I’ll be out in like, two seconds!”

Your gaze finds his and you’re panicking when he’s moving again. Within two seconds, you’re flat on your back on the length of the couch - and this time, he’s holding himself above you.

“What the- I-”

“We’ll continue this later back at the company, I promise,” Then he rounds your cheek and presses a kiss into your cheekbone instead.

He pulls back, offering you his kind smile and a ruffle into your hair for good measure. Nothing in your body is working when you hear him shuffle for the door, and it clicks shut behind him, with Breaking Dawn already blasting in the filming space.

Sucking in a deep breath, you don’t realise how hard your heart is thumping in your head until you hear your own shaky exhale. You don’t know where to look, you can still feel his grip on your waist and his breath on your upper lip, and everything’s just a mess right now.

What the Hell just happened?

“Eric - Dior Shirt Size M...” You mumble under your breath, fingers gripping the pen to the clipboard so hard, your writing would probably leave a mark in the sheet under. 

“I think this is the last luggage!” Younghoon’s stylist drags the black case in, lining it up with the last unopened one. “Need help?”

“Yeah, just open the luggage for me and separate Sangyeon’s clothes from Jacob’s, but otherwise I can handle it on my own.”

She nods, laying it down and unzipping it for the clothes to spew out. “How’s working here? It’s been over a year, right?”

“Mhm,” You glance at her, obviously tired. “It’s alright, but thanks to your advice since last year, I don’t think it could’ve been better.”

With a kind smile, she looks up at you, placing Sangyeon’s pants over his stack. “You’re experienced from ATEEZ, so it wouldn’t have been that hard anyway.”

She stands, resting her hands on her hips as you walk over, squatting to check Sangyeon and Jacob’s clothes. 

“So... what’s going on with you and Juyeon?”

I’d like to know too.

“Huh?” You look up at her, head tilted to the side with a sneaky cocked brow. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, please- All the stylists here know you and Juyeon are like- hanky panky nowadays. Pretty sure the boys know too, or at least have some idea.”

A cackle runs your throat dry as you graduate your attention to Jacob’s clothes. “Is that what they’re calling it? ‘Hanky-panky’? Cute.”

“Do you know why they’re still in a meeting this late?”

“No, why would I bother? As long as I don’t lose my job, it’s none of my concern.”

“They’re in meeting to be informed that their dating ban has been lifted.”

Your grip around the pen tightens, but halts abruptly. 

“Ah...” She sighs, contemplated with herself. “Cat got your tongue? Or should I say... Juyeon got your-”

Interrupted by the practise room door being pushed open, both of your attentions immediately flit to the new commotion. 

“Oh, Juyeon! Meeting’s over?”

“Yeah,” He turns and closes the door behind him. His hair was still waxed up from the day’s schedule, makeup still on but fading. Clothes snug around his shoulders with his belt tight around his hips. Those stupid jeans never did you any good since day 1. “Sangyeon said he left a ring in one of the luggages so he sent me to come get it while he counsels Kevin for twerking.”

“y/n’s just going through Sangyeon’s wardrobe, so she might find something,” Your colleague’s begun to take small, insignificant steps towards the door, and your anxiety begins to increase with every inch she places between the two of you.

“Which is why I’m here,” He stuffs his hands into his back pockets.

“Right, right,” Now, she’s already got her hand on the door knob, glancing past him and at you with wide, glistening eyes. “I gotta go check your wardrobe for tomorrow so... I’mma go now, and uh... security comes by around 12am. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“What-” You blurt out, receiving a sharp, surprised look from Juyeon.

“Bye! Bye Juyeon!”

“Bye,” He waves. 

“No, wait-” 

And so, the door clicks shut behind her, and her shadow behind the translucent material disappears down the corridor. 

The whir of the air-conditioner in the practice room fills all the awkward openings in the room, but all you can hear is the rapid thunk of your heart in your brain - as if that was even possible. 

Thunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunk

“About earlier today-”

“Give me a moment while I look for Sangyeon’s ring. What does it look like?” Standing up too fast, your vision goes white and a second of dizziness throws you off your balance.

So, of course, Juyeon rushes over and holds you by your waist before your ankles or knees give way. The incessant blinking makes you wish you could actually pass out right now, because your weight’s in his arms and you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“Iron deficiency much?” The corner of his lips curl up into his cheek before releasing you. “Do you need to sit down?”

Clearing your throat, you turn away first. “No, I-”

“Good, because I have some points to make and you’re gonna stop running away from them like you’re doing now.”

The change in tone runs chills down your spine and goosebumps erupt all over your skin - thank god you were wearing a blazer, safe from his observation. 

“How have you tolerated it so much?” He folds his arms across his chest, tilting his head innocently but his eyes say otherwise. It’s always his eyes that tell a whole different story from the person he’s known to be. 

“Y’know, being around me but you’re so calm and collected and I just...” He shakes his head, and to your dismay, takes a step forward - which drives you backwards. “How?”

His voice is too sing-songy. It’s too calm and collected for you because you’re about to barf up your dinner, which was a good 4 hours ago now. There’s nothing left in your stomach to barf up. 

He takes another intimidating step and you wince at your inability to look him in the eye.

Another step back. 

“Like, I know we’re friends but my God-” Shaking his head, he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip.

Another step forward. Another backward.

“It’s upsetting that I can look ‘raunchy’ and it doesn’t seem to do anything to you... But seeing you the way you are every other day makes me want to- just-”

Another step forward. 

One more one back.

And your breath halts.

Your back hits the wall, the rear of your skull lined with the pillar. 

Oh, no.

Gritting your teeth so tight, your jaw starts to ache and your temples are throbbing. 

“I’m not seeing things, right?” A flicker of curiosity sparkles in his eyes when you muster up the courage to look at him - only to regret it instantly. “It’s not in my head that you feel the same way I do, right?”

“I... Don’t know what you’re talking about- You’re an idol... and I’m- I’m just your stylist and I-”

“‘Just my stylist’?” The comment forces his brows into a slight frown, before he lifts his hand and covers the bottom half of his face with his palm. “Rethink what you just said.”

Sucking in a deep breath, your chest wells with a horrid mix of desire and self-discipline. Those two don’t go well together. 

“We can talk about this some other day,” You choose to say, dragging your body along the pillar in a bid to shift out from the wall-Juyeon sandwich like a fool. He lifts his arm and presses his palm into the pillar behind you, caging your poor, poor soul in this fateful corner of his stupid practice room.

“Juyeon, we need... boundaries in this industry. One scandal and it’ll destroy your career.”

“Boundaries?” He buckles his elbows, shrinking the gap between your noses. “Boundaries are for idols who still have a dating ban.”

Breathing down your nose, he’s too close for comfort. You can smell his cologne, the scent of his hair wax and see the bumps on his cheek under the faint layer of makeup. You don’t realise you’re trembling until he tilts his head ever so slightly, free hand reaching up to your chin to steady your face.

“Stop running from me,” Shaking his head painstakingly subtly, he whispers into your lips. “You were mine from the start and you know that.”

The adrenaline rush through your nerves sets off fireworks all over you when he slots his body against yours, lips fitted with yours like puzzle pieces; against the wall, with his palms on your cheeks. There was no care or consideration with how much strength he was channeling into this kiss - it feels so pent-up, so frustrated. Without warning, your body resigns as you circle your arms around his shoulders.

Gripping the rim of his collar in your hands, his hands drop to your waist and holds you closer, if it were even possible. A million thoughts race through your head - and at the same time, none. This moment was something you didn’t even know you needed. 

Juyeon’s hands roam the small of your back as he keeps you against the wall, relaxing into the kiss and sighing into it instead. 

This bliss comes in the form of him. Him who provides you all the sinful wants deep down inside you. 

But this bliss doesn’t last, for the practice room door swings open violently and tears Juyeon off you.

“I told you to find my ring, not hook up with your crush!”

#multifandomnet #juyeon scenarios #juyeon fics #juyeon fic #juyeon imagines #juyeon x reader #juyeon smut #tbz juyeon scenarios #tbz juyeon imagines #tbz juyeon fic #tbz juyeon smut #the boyz juyeon smut #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz fic #the boyz smut #the boyz one shot #juyeon one shot #juyeon drabbles #tbz one shot #tbz drabbles

[ramblingnoonas]

Butter

 

Ø  Pairing – idol!Jimin x female reader

Ø  Genre – smut

Ø  Warnings – 18+ NSFW, oral (f recieving), misuse of BH property. Dom jimin (a tiny bit, not really, if you squint)

Ø  Word count – 1.2k

Ø  Summary – Jimin invites you to the filming of Butter mv

(written by NoonaL - this is my first fanfic, please be gentle)

 

 

Reading his text again, your frown deepened;

come see me on set. Wear a dress. 

Wear a dress?! Jimin had never been that specific about your outfit before and he knew that you weren't really a dress girl. Feeling confused you typed a reply, telling him you'd be there soon.

When you arrived there were a lot of staff around that you knew so you were able to find Jimin quickly, but you still felt incredibly self conscious in the knee length summer dress that was world's apart from your usual jeans and jumper attire.

He was in the middle of filming and oh god did he look good. Too good! Like every Mafia and CEO au you'd ever read combined. Newly dyed blonde hair slicked back with added rainbow coloured highlights had you biting your lip. What really had you quivering was the sharp grey suit he was wearing. Oof. Teamed with over-sized sunglasses and a cocky look on his face as he bent over the table, eye brows raising suggestively as he gazed into the camera had your thighs clenching together.

He'd seen you as soon as you'd arrived, deciding to throw in that little eyebrow raise at the end of his scene just to tease you. Making a bee-line for you as soon as the director shouted cut, he schooled his features into his most innocent look, intensely satisfied by how flustered you looked watching him shoot. Enveloping you in a warm hug he inhaled your scent, "missed you angel." He purred, stroking the exposed strip of skin on your back, goosebumps erupting in the wake of his fingers "mmm...you look so good in this dress. Good enough to eat," you felt him smirk against your ear before he lowered his voice to a whisper,  "let me taste my angel." The dominance in his voice combined with the suit had you whimpering, you would've let this man do anything he wanted. Afraid of moaning out loud, you kept your mouth shut and simply nodded. "Yes? Is that a yes, angel? You'd let me flip your pretty dress up right here on set? You'd let me devour you right here in front of everyone? In front of hyungs?” He chuckled, taking a step back. To your immense embarrassment a needy whine left your lips as your fingers desperately clutched at the lapels of his jacket. Allowing himself to be pulled back in, he smirked, again dropping his voice to a low rumble that only you could hear. "Or maybe we could make use of that table? You think I don't know about your filthy late night reading habits?" He cocked an eyebrow, the tip of his tongue poking out to lick at the corner of his beautiful plump lips, pretending to think before he spoke. "I know what you want angel. Want me to bend you over that table, don't you? Want me to ruin that pretty dress fucking you over that table just like in one of your fanfics." The whole time he'd been talking your hands had been balling his jacket into your fists, you were throbbing, any second you expected to feel wetness glide down the inside of your thigh. You couldn't think, you couldn't speak, all that came out was a desperate whine of his name. Jimin’s thumb stroked across your bottom lip as his inched closer to yours. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face, smell that intoxicating mix of cologne and something that was purely Jimin. Just as your eyes fluttered closed at the impending kiss, a loud chorus of his name broke the two of you apart. Huffing with annoyance Jimin turned towards the staff calling his name. "Don't move princess, I'll be right back." Just like that he left you standing there, feeling utterly frustrated. Park Jimin was sure to be the death of you, but oh what a sweet death it would be.

The boys had moved on to filming their individual shots in the elevator, Jimin took this opportunity to grab you, dragging you back to his set from earlier in the day; the press conference table. "Jimin!" You squeaked anxiously, "we can't! Someone will see!" Pulling your body flush with his, silencing your lips with his own he walked you backwards until your legs hit said table. His hand slammed down on the table, "sit!" He was so commanding that your body complied automatically, hoping on to the table and spreading your legs Jimin positioning himself between them. "We can stop if you're uncomfortable, angel." He was always so sweet with you,  so concerned about your comfort. Stroking your thighs he waited patiently, "no, I want to." You giggled, feeling brave all of a sudden. That was all Jimin was waiting to hear, without another word he knelt on the floor, head disappearing under your dress. Your underwear was roughly pushed down your thighs as his tongue made contact at last. Licking a long stripe up to your clit, which he sucked between those plush lips like his life depended on it. You slumped back on the table, hips rising greedy for as much of his mouth as you could get. Feeling his fingers start to gently probe at your entrance, your hips rose higher, legs opening as much as they could with your underwear still restricting movement. Jimin was masterfully skilled with his tongue, it didn't take long to have you clenching around his head and fingers. Tugging strands of pink and purple between your fingers, you tried to warn him that you were close. His fingers sped up, crooking into a 'come hither' motion that perfectly hit the spot every time, while his lips and tongue worked in tandem; licking, sucking, his teeth occasionally scraping across your sensitive bundle of nerves until your back arches, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. Just in time too, Jimin barely had time to stand up and yank your panties back up before someone was calling his name again. Smirking and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he helped you up, wrapping an arm securely around your waist when your legs wobbled. Judging by the looks on the other boys faces, you must've looked pretty fucked out, there was no doubt everyone knew what the two of you had just been up to. The stylists tutted and fussed with his dishevelled hair and make up, throwing disapproving glances your way, all the while Jimin beamed cockily.

Heading back to the dorm a few hours later, he intertwined his fingers with yours. Glancing towards Jungkook who was thankfully listening to music before you spoke. "It's a shame you didn't get to fuck me over that table as well, not that I'm complaining, but..." You trailed off as he grinned giving you a cheeky wink, "ah there's always next time angel."

#bts smut #jimin smut #idol!jimin x reader #jimin x reader #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #park jimin smut #park jimin x reader #jimin thirst #bangtan smut #boyfriend jimin #boyfriend bts #NoonaL

[ashayatreldai]

His Face - Fic

Find this on AO3 or read it here.

Among Su She’s effects is found a bundle of sketches of Hanguang Jun, which inspires a lifetime of exchanges between Wei Wuxian and his husband.

***

Wei Wuxian yawned, barely remembering to cover his mouth with the back of his hand. It wasn’t as though Lan Wangji minded; he still marveled at his husband’s calm acceptance of his less than perfect behavior. And it wasn’t as if he were really tired. They’d been back in Cloud Recesses only a handful of days and most of that time Wei Wuxian had been able to rest, to wander the back hill, to play with the rabbits, to tease Sizhui and Jingyi, to play Chenqing to the birds and the rainbows the sun cast in the light mists of Gusu’s waterfalls. No, he supposed. He yawned because he was warm, well-fed, secure and safe, and in the best company a person could desire, let alone have all to himself.

Lan Wangji sat on the other side of the desk, and in spite of the hour was still working through the backlog of mail which had accumulated in his absence.

“What’s this?” A bundle of papers caught Wei Wuxian’s eye, and on impulse he reached and drew them out of the stack.

Lan Wangji looked up. “After the events at Gyanyin Temple, members of the Lan Clan disposed of the bodies, sealed the coffin in which Red Blade Master and Jin Guangyao are buried, and otherwise put the site in order. Among these activities, Su She’s body was searched and his personal effects catalogued. A quiankun pouch was found, containing an assortment of items. This bundle of papers was also in the pouch. I assume it was forwarded to me because I am the subject.”

Wei Wuxian leafed through the pages. It was a collection of sketches in a variety of media, all of Hanguang Jun’s face, mostly sketches of his eyes. They weren’t half bad: the artist had captured the micro-expressions which concealed everything but hid nothing of Hanguang Jun’s thoughts. But as he examined the pile, he experienced an increasing sensation of wrongness.

“I wonder what he was trying to capture. I mean, here’s ice, here’s anger. I think this one is arrogance or being haughty; and this one has to be indifference. And this,” he huffed out with a half smile, “has got to be ‘you are the scum beneath my shoe’.” That was a micro-expression Wei Wuxian had seen often on Lan Wangji’s face when they were young, as he kept poking and prodding until the carefully cultivated mask his friend wore finally slipped. He spread out the pictures, his eyes searching for the clues he knew he’d find. “Why would he want to draw these things and exclude others? I know a lot of people are afraid of you, Lan Zhan, because you look cold and imperturbable. But anyone who knows you and watches closely can see that there’s so much more to you than that.”

“Su She was cast out of the Lan Clan because he betrayed our secrets to Wen Xu. He was known for being desirous of imitating me – poorly. We can only speculate as to his motivations otherwise,” Lan Wangji commented quietly.

“Mmmm,” Wei Wuxian agreed. “He hated you, but he also idolized you. Who’s to say what came first? Whatever,” he said, shaking his head. “The fact he captured your eyes with these strong antagonistic expressions suggests he hated himself, and perhaps wanted to make you the one who hated him in his own mind. It’s easier to hate someone than to live with the pain of feeling rejected or not even noticed.”

“I never hated Su She.”

“No, I don’t think I’ve ever known you to hate anyone, Hanguang Jun.” Wei Wuxian felt a surge of protective affection for this dear man. “Not even those who deserve it. Su She unfairly judged you and didn’t know you at all. Still, when you think about what people say about me, the scary deranged Yiling Patriarch, anything’s possible in terms of what people do to themselves to justify hatred. Blargh!” He made claws with his hands and pulled a terrifying crazy Yiling Laozu face.

“Wei Ying.” There was amusement dancing in Lan Wangji’s eyes. “You do not scare me.”

Sometimes Lan Wangji could abruptly light a fuse in Wei Wuxian and leave him smoking. He laughed and crawled around to Lan Wangji’s side of the table, climbing into his lap to sit with one leg either side of Lan Wangji’s waist. His husband’s hands came up to support his lower back. He put both hands loosely around Lan Wangji’s neck.

Lan Wangi had removed his silver coronet and tendrils of hair that usually were wound up to hold the headpiece in place trailed either side of his face, making him look softer and younger and so much more vulnerable.

For some time they sat simply looking at each other. Wei Wuxian took in the flawless face, reaching one hand to trace Lan Wangi’s eyebrow, feeling the soft hairs brush beneath his fingerpads. He gently followed the line of an eyelash, delighting in the butterfly kiss as his husband blinked. Out over the swell of zygomatic bone, cupping around his perfectly shaped ear – he really was like exquisitely carved jade, warm, living, and here. He cupped Lan Wangji’s cheek, his thumb finding the hollow between nose and lip and the soft breath of life it held. And those lips, now quirked in a loving bow.

He pulled himself up to kiss the forehead ribbon, to plant gentle brushes of his lips over all the places he’d touched. When he came to Lan Wangji’s mouth, he finally let go, giving all his worship as they joined tongues, teeth, desire, losing themselves in each other.

They released the kiss, and held each other, Wei Wuxian’s head on Lan Wangji’s shoulder. Between them energy sizzled – it would be sated later, but it was sufficient for now to enjoy the beatitude of the moment, the closeness, words unnecessary to communicate the depth of heart each held for the other.

***

Wei Wuxian was traveling. His absence itched acutely just under Lan Wangji’s skin, a constant worry. He rued the duty which pinned him in his current dual roles: Chief Cultivator and Acting Sect Leader, keeping him grounded at Cloud Recesses instead of off night hunting with his husband.

It was necessary, he knew, for Wei Wuxian to move; the whole man was a study in movement, in ceaseless energy. He knew the staid and stable pattern of life at Cloud Recesses felt like a box to Wei Ying, and while he could endure for a season, he needed more than what life in Gusu offered, even with rabbits and a back hill to wander for hours.

But oh, he missed him. And he worried too: who would defend him when he had so little sense of self-preservation?

This journey, Wei Wuxian had set off to attempt to mend things with Jiang Cheng before making his way up to Lanling to see Jin Ling. One of the highest values for the Lan was family, and Lan Wangji understood the deep need his husband had for those connections – had encouraged it.

It was just as well Wei Wuxian had mastered the butterfly talisman (and enhanced it). Morning and night he would wait for the silvery wings to alight with Wei Wuxian’s messages of love and thought to whisper through his qi. Sometimes they were profound, poetry. Sometimes playful; sometimes just a kiss. Lan Wangji came to depend on those messages, and on being able to send some back himself: I love you, I miss you, come home soon.

He sighed. This morning had grown tedious. Today was the end of the accounting period for Clan matters, and while there was staff to manage the minutiae of bookkeeping, as Acting Clan Leader LanWangji was examining the records before tomorrow’s visit from the auditor. Not for the first time he lamented his brother’s seclusion, necessary though it was. Dealing with finances was the part of the role that least appealed to Lan Wangji; he felt a headache brewing and was contemplating taking a break when there was a knock on the door.

“Hanguang Jun, mail has arrived,” the disciple said, handing him a bundle.

“Thank you. Please ask the kitchen to send me some lunch,” he requested, taking the pile.

The disciple departed, and he began to sort the items: those about Clan matters, those for the Chief Cultivator. One letter stood out, a simple scroll tied with a red thread. Putting all the other mail aside he carefully opened the scroll and took a breath.

It was an ink painting of his eyes, creased ever so slightly in an expression of amusement. On his brow the forehead ribbon glinted silver, his hair loosely framing his cheeks. He instantly recognized the artist, tracing a finger over the brush strokes as if that touch could unite him with the hand that had made them.

“Wei Ying,” he said, infinite fondness filling him.

Throughout the rest of the day he kept the picture on his desk, glancing at it from time to time. And when it was time to turn his attention to other things, he gently placed the picture in his sleeve to take back to the jingshi.

Every couple of days another picture would arrive. This too became something Lan Wangji expected, an important and significant marker in his day, each picture a symbol that he was one day closer to seeing, holding, touching, tasting Wei Wuxian again.

***

300 years later

Clan Leader Lan Shuoxiao had come to the Forbidden Room in the Library Pavilion seeking a book she’d known had been here years earlier. Back then she’d been a mischievous girl seeking a way to prank Shufu, and she vividly remembered the green cover. Lan filing methods hadn’t changed in hundreds of years, so that wretched book had to be here somewhere.

She moved a pile of dusty scrolls, cursing under her breath when she knocked a stack of bamboo books which went tumbling over the floor. Patience, she told herself strictly. Breathe and control.

Feeling a little more composed, she bent to restore the mess to order. A red cover caught her eye on one of the lower shelves. She’d not seen that before, and she was sure she’d have recognized it if she had. It was quite distinct, a deep red, tied shut with of all things a Clan ribbon.

Intrigued, she opened the volume, carefully untying the ribbon and leafing through the pages. Page after page were pictures of a handsome man’s eyes: crinkled in delight, weeping with sorrow, dancing with affection, on and on they went. Sometimes the whole of the man’s lovely face was shown: in some he wore the elaborate silver coronet her ancestors had favored, in others his long tresses floated around his face, and the artist had clearly captured a treasured, private, and vulnerable moment.

Around half way through the volume the pictures changed: a spritely young man in black, his underrobe a vivid red (the same colour as the cover of the book, as it happened – and she wondered whether it was indeed cut from the same cloth), a red ribbon in his hair, holding a black dizi. This array of pictures had a different hand, a more understated eye which captured the young man’s energetic aura, as well as pensive moments – the youth had clearly been to hell and back, and Lan Shuoxiao could almost feel the immense love with which the person who’d drawn these pictures had made each stroke.

There were so many! Page sized varied: a compendium gathered together of odd scraps. The last page bore an inscription:

In loving memory of my parents, Lan Zhan, Lan Wangji, Hanguang Jun, and Wei Ying, Wei Wuxian, Yiling Laozu. The true faces of both, in their own hands. Love letters sent to dearest him who was, alas, away. Lan Yuan, Lan Sizhui, Chief Cultivator.

Clan Leader Lan Shuoxiao’s heart thumped wildly in her chest. Clan records declared Hanguang Jun’s partner’s name to have been Lan Ying, Lan Wuxian. How had they never made the connection before that “Lan Wuxian” was in fact the infamous Yiling Patriarch? Given that the two had Lan Yuan, Lan Sizhui’s name inscribed under theirs as offspring, Lan Shuoxiao and many others had assumed Lan Wuxian to be female.

She looked closely again at one of the pictures of the young man in black and red. He didn’t look like the evil dictator of legend. He looked mischievous and full of life, an impression caught in the laughing smile, and so… youthful.

Not that demonic cultivation was these days the issue it had been for her ancestors; these days cultivation was emphasized to be about harnessing the yin of negative energy and the yang of positive energy, holding them in balance and using each appropriately. She doubted the people who had so feared and hated the Yiling Patriarch would be able to recognize as righteous the way all cultivators now practiced as a matter of course.

As for Hanguang Jun… She flicked back to a picture in which his whole upper body had been captured as he played guqin, a study of someone completely caught up and focused on the music, almost in ecstasy. Another private moment revealing something about the essence of the man. He was so beautiful, captivating. And such a contrast from all the other images she’d ever seen of him. Hanguang Jun had a reputation even now, 150 years after he had Ascended, for being cold, somewhat forbidding, distant, just, merciful and benevolent, untouchable, unrivalled in almost all fields. That was how he appeared at the Gate of Gusu, carved of jade, opposite his brother, Zewu Jun, the famous Twin Jades of Gusu Lan now its guardians, their representations inscribed and infused with talismans and ward tethers. Rumor was that no evil could come to Cloud Recesses as long as the Twin Jades stood at the gates. How was anyone to reconcile that formidable image with this? This picture of a very human, vulnerable, gentle man, who was clearly so very much loved by the artist who drew him.

Lan Shuoxiao found herself on the edge of tears. It felt like an injustice, looking at these intimate sketches, that history had forgotten Wei Wuxian as little more than a footnote. And that the righteous Hanguang Jun had been immortalized as a stiff, cold and distant deity rather than someone’s beloved whose heart beat wildly in his chest in longing, and whose blood was warm and red and thrummed with reciprocated affection. She wondered how they had found one another, wondered about the history in which they must have been caught up: how did it affect them? What trials had they passed through before they finally found their way to each other’s arms?

She reverently closed the volume, her original mission in coming here put aside. Thoughtfully, she collected up the scrolls and bamboo books and reordered them, and then closed the Forbidden Room.

***

Several months later a new scene was depicted on the climbing path around the residences of Gusu: a beautiful, crowned Lan sat cross-legged in the back hill meadow, covered in a blanket of rabbits. His loving gaze was fixed on the figure opposite him under a peach tree in full bloom, who was standing and playing a dizi. The legend beneath read: Hanguang Jun and his cultivation partner Yiling Laozu, Lan Wuxian.

 FIN

#the untamed #ao3 #mdzs #wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan sizhui #myfic

[bts-hyperfixation]

Love You Too Much

Part 13

Yandere!Namjoon x Army!Y/N

Warnings: Yandere fic, this chapter mentions nausea. Smut in the next chapter

(back)/(next)/(masterlist)

The underground is extremely busy when you board, but Joon manages to snag himself a seat. He tugs you down into his arms and cages you too him; tightly hugging your waist to keep you from sliding off when the train jerks. You blush noticing the eyes on you, public affection isn’t common in places like this. Instead of focusing on the glares of other passengers you try to look around the cabin, unfortunately, you don’t get very far before Namjoon stops you.

“You can’t look around; you’ll figure out where we are going too easily.” His eyes lock with yours showing how serious he is about this being a surprise. You pout back at him, bringing your finger up to poke at his cheek.

“Then what am I supposed to do for the next hour you said we would be down here?” The question is answered with a small kiss, and then another, and another. He kisses all over your face as you turn redder and redder at the attention. You try to push him back a little, but the death grip he has on your waist won’t let you.

“I know I could keep this up the entire time.” He says in between each peck. Its makes you giggle as his voice vibrates against your skin. You keep wriggling until he stops. Sighing dramatically he adds “Unless you want to spend the time on your phone, that’s good too I guess.”

“That sounds like a much more appropriate plan,” you confirm laughing. You kiss him once more before pulling out your phone for the rest of the journey. With each stop more people exit without being replaced, but even with ten empty seats around you Namjoon won’t let you slip off his lap grumbling and burying his fae into your neck every time you try. Anyone else would be thankful for the reprieve, having someone sat on your lap for so long can not be comfortable. Eventually the train changes from underground to overground and you can see the city around you.

Clearly nowhere near the massive towers and bustling stores of the centre. However, there is a very suspicious looking building on the horizon. The tops of blue turrets can be seen hidden in the distance. You dare to glance around the train and find a lot of people wearing character clothing and excessively bright colours.

“Joon?” you tap at his arms to get him to lift his head away from where it rested on your shoulder.

“Hmm?” he answers, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Are we going to Disneyland?” its hard to contain your excitement, as you start to bounce a little in his lap.

“I don’t know… are we?” he raises an eyebrow at you, completely failing to keep the grin off his face as he watches you get more fidgety.

It feels like the rest of the journey takes a lifetime, even if it is just two more stops. Namjoon lets you up just as the door slide open. You take his hand and follow him through the station. Instead of the expansive white walls and large advertisements of the other stations this one is coated in rainbow Disney character silhouettes, all it doe is add to the knot of anticipation that’s building in your stomach.

Along the walk-way different Disney princess theme songs play leading all the way from the station doors to the gate. Pathways are framed with cherry blossoms and ornate streetlamps. Even before you reach the park they try their best to make sure guests are fully emerged in the experience. A giant inflatable Donald Duck welcomes people from the nearby lake, many waiting to take their pictures with the beloved blow-up character.

You slow to take in your surroundings but Namjoon seems determined to carry on. He squeezes your hand to bring you back to him and starts moving a little quicker.

“Come on there is a ride I really want to take you on, but the line can be pretty long so the sooner we get through that one the better.” He smiles back at you but your stomach drops. You hadn’t thought about the rides. Yes it’s a theme park… but it’s more of an experience situation. Big rides are terrifying. As you waited to be admitted into the park you tried to come up with a way to break it to Namjoon gently that fast rides weren’t for you. He just looked so excited, and maybe its time to try something new.

Luckily being a weekday the line for entry was reasonably short. Just inside the gates there is a board with described wait times. You chew your lip anxiously as he searches for the ride in question. He doesn’t even bother to tell you the name before heading off in, what you assume is, the right direction. It doesn’t take long to reach the dreaded thing; Shanghai is a reasonably small Disney park after all.

*Soaring Over the Horizon*

 Terrifying…

The ride itself seems to be in a large amphitheatre. Hidden so you can’t tell how bad it is. Joon tries to keep heading for the ride but you force him stop.

“I’m sorry Joon… I’m… I’m not good at rides.” You force your stomach to stop flipping as he studies you. It’s uncomfortable for a moment and then his normal relaxed demeanour reappears.

“I promise you this one isn’t bad baby.” He reaches out to push a stray hair behind your ear. “It’s like a cinema, you get lifted up to watch a movie, no scary rollercoaster I promise.” You nuzzle into the warmth of his hand, allowing it to calm you a little. “If you don’t like it you just close your eyes and most of it just goes away. After the turn you had in the tower, I would never risk putting you on a fast ride. I just had all of these big plans 0for what we were going to do today. I know you’ll enjoy it all if you just try… Don’t you trust me?” the last words sting a little. The tone too severe for the context.

“Of course I trust you,” you take a deep breath and steel your resolve, determined to show him that you have faith in him. You charge towards the queue as he falls into step behind you. Inside the building is stunning. Modelled after temples in a desert, the ceiling has been strung with a million tiny lights to make it look like a clear night sky. You lean back into Joon to get a better view of what’s above you, also using his solid body to keep you grounded. The closer you get the more you regret you decision to force yourself onto the ride. With each shuffle forward you can feel your heartbeat faster. He must feel it too because he tightens his grip on you and leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I’ve got you Y/N, every moment.” The tension in your shoulders loosens a little, until it’s your turn at the front of the queue. The attendant usher two dozen people into a new room to watch a video. A video in Chinese. You glance around at the other guests wrapped up in the magic of the ride. Kids as young as eight stand around you, and you can’t help but feel a little silly. As the preamble ends, doors open to your left and you are told to strap into a row of seats set out like paraglider. You place your loose items in the tray under your chair and strap your self in, clinging desperately to the chair arm on you left and Namjoon on the right.

When the ride starts to move you can’t help but squeal, making Namjoon laugh. You shoot a glare at the idol before returning your attention to the screen at the front of the ride. It takes you throughout the world. 3D images of the world’s greatest wonders and animals. The entire show is breath taking, you almost don’t want it to end. But it has to.

You are lowered back to the floor and sent on out into the park. The stress of working yourself up hasn’t helped the queasy feeling that had been lingering since the bout of vertigo, Namjoon wraps his arm around you shoulder and pulls you close.

“See that wasn’t so bad was it.” He grins, you try to match his enthusiasm with your reply but apparently there is no hiding your unease from him. “Come on I think you need lunch before we do anything.” You start to protest, determined to do all the fun things he had planned. However, your stomach grumbling beat you to the punch. You check your watch to find out it had been a long time since breakfast.

“Okay, where so you want to eat?” you end up leaving the park. Just outside there is a large selection of restaurants to choose from. He pulls you into the cheesecake factory, citing something about familiar western food being easier for you, although you can’t hide your disappointment at not being able to try more traditional Asian dishes. The food is great though, and you get to share dessert. He orders an oreo cheesecake, feeding it to you from his fork “Accidentally” getting it on your face and leaning over to kiss it off. You can already feel the boost in blood sugar helping you to feel better. By the time he has paid the cheque, you are more than ready to take on the rest of the park for the afternoon.

Masterlist

#kim namjoon #bts fic #yandere bts #bts smut #bts fluff #namjoon fic #rm fic #yandere namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #rm fluff #rm smut #bts disney #nausea mention

[seostudios]

all in love is fair

shouldn’t couldn’t wouldn’t

why i want you ever since i met you, my life has been nothing but sunshines and rainbows.  you’ve brought me out of my misery you’ve given me a reason to go on fourth  the reason i want to be someone why i want the world my world is you

fluff + mature content established-relationship!au + non-idol!au unprotected sex + breeding kink 

wait cause why is drabbles really good... i haven’t written a smut in so long. i hope you guys enjoy this! i’ll post one of my wips soon... or my halloween shit

“Y/n..” Jaehyun calls. “Yea babe?” You reply, walking into the living room, which was only lit by the fireplace, giving both you and Jaehyun a quiet cozy atmosphere to finally relax into. He shifts on the large couch to lay down, before signalling you to come rest on top of him. “Remember when you were pregnant with Hyunwoo..” He started, hand caressing your back. “You were so moody, always wanting some of the most bizzare treats.” He voiced, bellowing a deep chuckle. “Did not!” You sputter, digging your face deep into your husband’s neck. “But you’ve blessed me with the most beautiful son I could even ask for,” He concluded. “Jae...” You whisper. “Acting like I did all the work.” You mutter. Now adjusting yourself on the sofa, straddling on Jaehyun, legs on either sides of him. “Hyunwoo is lucky to have you as a father.” You inform him. “Now stop getting all sappy and romantic.” You gush, poking his stomach, which earns you a small fit of laughter from him. “Way to ruin the mood, I wanted to have sex.” He said, a pout evident on his lips. Though his facial expression could’ve fooled you, his sneaky hands lurking up your thighs didn’t. 

“Hyunwoo is in the other room Jae...” You said seriously, but a silly grin was still slapped across your face. He shrugs his shoulders, hands reaching past your sides to the strings of your pyjama shorts. “Okay honey.” The white laces undoing, Jaehyun tugging on the elastic band. “But..” “We can be quiet.” He starts, hushing you. Your hands make their way to grip onto his broad shoulders, leaning forward. Your cleavage on full display. “Off please.” Jaehyun requests, tugging on your t shirt, watching you remove the article of clothing. You can hear him mutter a quick ‘fuck’ before pulling you into a wet kiss. You’ll admit, his kisses were more on the sloppy side ever since you’ve had Hyunwoo. I guess not having sex every moment alone did something to him. To Jaehyun, this was a now or never situation. If he didn’t do anything now, he probably won’t see you naked until you’re breastfeeding Hyunwoo. I think he’d rather see now, in his own hands. His hands knead your breasts, thankful you weren’t wearing a bra. “Gonna ruin you tonight.” He mumbles against your lips, winning a quiet whimper from you. Jaehyun grips onto your hips before flipping over. Now he’s on top. You watch him pull the remaining clothing off your body, stripping himself afterwards. Pinching his side you whine, what took him so long. “Eager.. I like that.” He pointed out. Pulling your hips up and against his front, teasing his hardened length against your folds. Finally, pushing in. You forgot how sensational it felt when Jaehyun filled you up to the brim, thrusting right onto your g-spot. Stop! Be quiet! Your moan was cut short with Jaehyun’s fingers dipping into your mouth. “Shhh...” He whispers roughly into your ear, before grunting. 

The star shined as you reached your second orgasm of the night, moaning quietly into your palm. Jaehyun aggressively grabs your face, moving to face him, “I’m gonna fucking put a baby in you.” He said with a groan, feeling his thrusts quicken. “Fuck.. Ja-Jaehyun-ie..” You whimper, biting his shoulder. Just then, you feel Jaehyun’s liquid spray your walls, coating them white. In spite of already reaching his high, he still manages to thrust, deeply into you. “Think you can cum again for me..?” Why’d he even ask? He felt your walls clench around his cock. Reaching his hand down towards your clit he abuses your bud, making sure you cum. A wave of pleasure dawns over you moments later, with a leg shaking orgasm. The pleasure was unimaginable, even if Jaehyun had to bare not hearing your beautiful moans, he was glad he got something out of tonight.

Not too long after the two of you reached your highs, Jaehyun moves underneath you, enveloping you in his arms under the duvet he picks up off the floor. You arm lands on his broad chest, drawing shapes on his pecks, sitting in a comfortable silence. “I love you,” Jaehyun says followed by a deep sigh. What was he thinking of? “I know..” You reply. “No-” He starts, sitting up slightly. His head resting on the arm of the couch. “I don’t think you understand how much I love you Y/n.” His arm still wrapped around your shoulder squeezes. Oh, How much? “Jae, I love you s-” “I love you more than you love me.” He said cutting you off. A small burst of giggles pop out of you, was he seriously competing for your own love? “I think I love you as much as you love me.. Right?” You asked. His lips turn upwards, dimples on full view for you. “Right.”

#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv #nct 2020 #superm #nct-writers #nctnetwrite #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct drabbles #nct 127 drabbles #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun drabbles #jaehyun smut #nct au #nct 127 au #jaehyun au

[flooffybits]

Part of You

Idol: Bae Joohyun (Red Velvet) & Jennie Kim (Blackpink)

Irene and Jennie are forced to stay at home while their girlfriend is out of the country, touring with her group, instead of being at home. They understand, because they have to leave for tour, too. But when your tour is as frequent as yours, they can’t help but miss you more than they do.

“Jennie, come on, stop sulking.” The older girl cooed at her girlfriend when she entered the room, tablet in hand as she walked over to the bed where the Blackpink member was busy rolling and pouting to herself.

Said girl only stopped rolling around the bed and huffed, pout still present as she made room for the latter and then wrapped her arms around her waist to snuggle into her while she whined. “But I want Y/n to come home.” She complained, making Joohyun playfully roll her eyes whilst she patted the younger girl’s head.

“I know you do, and so do I, but she’s still in Europe with the rest of the girls.” She reminded before showing the tablet. “They have a show that we said we would be watching, so come on.” Groaning, Jennie moved so that they were both settled against the headboard of their shared bed.

Even though it was already late for them, the pair wanted to be able to watch your performance since they weren’t exactly capable of joining you on tour. With how long you’ve been away, this would be the only time they had together where they could see you.

Joohyun was preparing it to the link you had sent them so that they could see the concert live. It took a while of convincing from management, but you were able to make it possible without having the link leaked because it would be a very big question as to why you would have it in the first place.

As soon as the stadium was shown on the screen, Jennie’s eyes was immediately looking for the familiar figure of their girlfriend, despite the dark area. Joohyun was much more relaxed as she waited, grinning as she ran her fingers through Jennie’s hair in a comforting manner.

When the lights finally came to life and the screaming of fans increased, the two girls would feel pride swelling in their chest when you came up with your members. All of you were dressed in black and red clothing, dancing flawlessly, thanks to the countless times you’ve practiced.

They were cheering for you despite only watching from the screen, and when the camera panned over to show a close up of you, they would squeal even more, chanting your name as if they were in the crowd.

There was the change of outfits in between, so they were able to see some of your outfits in some of your music videos that made them more than pleased, especially when it came to performing your latest song.

When it came to special stages, they were holding their breath, waiting for you to make your appearance. Joohyun was no longer calm, frankly, she was just as excited as her taller girlfriend after watching you perform and hearing your voice.

“How are they able to do all that without looking tired?” Joohyun had questioned when she tucked her hair behind her ear, her motherly instincts picking up as she awaited your performance. “Their choreography is harder compared to ours. I’m just amazed that they’re still going, considering their concept is more on pop rock.” Jennie commented as she bounced in her place, making the older girl chuckle at her child-like expression.

When it was finally your turn, they were already giggling like school girls who had seen their crush. “Her outfit is always on point. Their stylist is good.” Jennie would say, making Joohyun laugh at the fashionista and playfully poke her side. “Of course, that’s what you notice.”

Jennie flinched at the poke and lightly swatted her hand away. “I was just saying! Our baby deserves to look the best.” She defended before turning back to watch you.

The moment they did, you were already at the chorus and both girls were blushing wildly because of the way your body moved. Of course, they expected this due to you dancing EXO’s The Eve, but they rarely see you performing songs with that kind of choreography.

Though there were times that your group covered for others with that kind of concept, it wasn’t often for them to see you dancing like that. Even with such a badass image, they knew well enough that you were capable of seducing anyone with a look, if the body rolls and winks weren’t enough proof of it.

They know that you aren’t usually like this. The confident and sexy Y/n was only for the stage, but when you were home, you were their soft and dorky girlfriend.

When the end of the concert finally came, the pair were cuddled up on the bed, the tablet resting between them as your group talked to the people who attended, thanking them for their time and saying goodbye.

But when the camera closed in on you, their brows quirked up at seeing you crouching down on the edge of the stage and talking animatedly to a couple fans. Looking closer, they could see something being handed to you before you gladly accepted it, making the shouting grow louder when you stood up, only to drape the rainbow flag across your shoulders and wrapping it around yourself.

The action made them smile even more, if that was possible. Something they loved about your group was that all of you were very open-minded people and that you never failed to show your support to anyone.

At first, it worried them because Korea wasn’t exactly very welcoming, but the more that time passed, your group has never gotten any form of hate or backlash and they were only left in wonderment as your popularity continued to grow. You may not have been too popular in Korea, but internationally, people knew who you were and that was more than enough.

Though they were a bit upset with the fact that your group still didn’t get your first win. They were sure you would have won when you performed at an award show with your comeback, but for some reason, the win went to someone else, where people found it odd with how the numbers just didn’t add up. Even those who weren’t fans of your group were sure that you would have won and others even did the calculations themselves. No matter how you looked at it, your group should have had your first win that day.

That was why it simply broke their hearts to see you so downhearted with your members. When the question of what your dream was, your answers were no longer “Our first win.” but “To have more fans” instead.

They did their best to cheer you up at that time and you were thankful for their support, but you eventually learned to move on from it. It had only served to make you work harder.

“Can she please come home, now?” Jennie whined as she watched you happily interact with your members. She missed you dearly ever since you had to leave last month. She actually complained that your tour was too long and Joohyun ended up laughing and teasing her for it because they were both away much more than you usually were.

Joohyun smiled at the younger girl and kissed her forehead. “You’re so clingy, Jen. She’ll be home in a few days.” She reminded, knowing that you would probably be filming a bit more before coming back. “But I want her now!” The younger girl protested before she looked to the other. “Don’t you dare make fun of me because I know you miss her, too.”

The latter raised her hands in defense, her eyes filled with mirth as she smiled. “I do, but you don’t see me acting like a baby, do you?” She retorted playfully, making the other pout as she crossed her arms across her chest. “You love me anyway.”

Now that earned herself a small smile from the older girl and a tender kiss was pressed against her lips before Joohyun kissed her cheek.

..

Joohyun wakes up, a little before six in the morning. Though she and Jennie stayed up to watch your performance, her body always woke her up early even when she didn’t need to.

It was something she often hated because she wants to keep sleeping, but at this moment, she was happy to be awake when she saw the text on her phone. Immediately, she pressed the call button and waited until you answered her.

Looking next to her, she giggled with how Jennie was still curled up on her side, one of your hoodies wrapped around her figure whilst Joohyun had another.

Her heart started beating faster when her phone finally showed the light of your hotel room. She was just so excited to see you, so when your face finally popped up, she couldn’t contain the smile that crawled up her face.

“Hi baby.” You murmur with a wave of your hand and she coos at how soft you looked. “Hey, why aren’t you asleep?” She asks quietly. Even with her want to see you, she could never help her motherly instincts when it came to your health.

“I just got cleaned up.” You tell her, stretching on the bed while a pillow was held to your chest. “Also, I was hoping to see at least one of my favorite girls.” You grin at her before a sound comes from the background.

“You called?”

From the screen, Joohyun could see as you playfully rolled your eyes and shooed the person away. “Sorry, that was Bora.” You apologize sheepishly due to your friend’s loud voice after you threw a pillow at her.

“I’m surprised you haven’t switched roommates.” Joohyun muses, knowing your members well enough to know just how playful and loud they could be.

If she thought her members were crazy, she was more surprised when she got to know more about yours.

You laughed at her remark and cock your head to the side. “It’s fine. Bora is fun to have around when she isn’t yelling all the time.” Jennie moved closer into Joohyun’s side as the older girl continued to listen to you. Her fingers moving to run through her soft locks.

“Is Jennie still sleeping?” You ask with a smile on your face. And as Joohyun was about to reply, the younger girl piped up, yawning as she moved so that she could peek at the screen and a sleepy smile appeared on her face. “Not anymore.”

Your smile only seemed to widen at the sight of your two girlfriends. “Good morning, princess.” She takes a while to properly wake herself, and when she realizes that she is talking to you, Joohyun is already grinning at her, stifling a laugh when she gave her a tiny squeeze.

“Y/n!” Jennie bolted upright, the phone coming to her hands when she snatched it from the older woman and both of you giggled before she’s hitting your other girlfriend. “How could you be on call without me?” Joohyun just rolled her eyes while you watch them in amusement.

“Is our Jennie whining?” You teased her but she only answered with a huff. “She’s been like this since yesterday when we were watching your performance.” Joohyun piped up when she rested her chin on the other girl’s shoulder. “I want Y/n to come now. I want her now.” She mocked in good nature while you smile at the two. “Don’t worry, I’ll be home soon.”

They could tell that you were tired, if having to sing and dance in front of thousands of people for a couple hours wasn’t tiring enough. They also knew that you were often one of the people in your group that made sure everyone was alright despite the fact that you weren’t exactly the eldest nor were you the leader.

“Is soon going to be in an hour?” Jennie asked hopefully, the adorable little pout on her lips again while she stared at you and you mentally cooed at your girlfriend’s antics. “I’m sorry, princess, but you know that we still have to film some things and I can’t back out since I’m the one who requested it.”

Damn you for being adorable, Jennie thinks, her pout growing deeper and Joohyun had to laugh before she’s addressing you. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n. We know that you’re busy. We just miss you.” She said, making you nod. “Also, while you’re away, please be careful. I don’t want another call from your members saying that you got lost while taking pictures.”

You just grinned sheepishly at your girlfriend while nodding your head. “I know. The unnies are always making sure that I don’t disappear without telling them, now.” Your love for photography was simply endearing and everyone knew that you loved to take pictures, but the one time you and your group went for a gathering due to a successful comeback, they ended up calling your girlfriends and asking if you had gone home.

It sent both girls into a panic when no one was able to find you, and the fact you weren’t answering made it worse. It wasn’t until the maknae spotted you by a few stalls did they all calm down, but you sure as hell did not hear the end of it with your members, only to have a second lecture when you got home to your worried girlfriends.

Checking the time, Jennie looked at you before she’s raising a brow. “Baby, it’s late.” She mumbled, seeing the way you were trying to keep your eyes open. “You’ve had a long day, and I’m sure that you’re busy tomorrow. You need to sleep.” Joohyun says worriedly and you smile at the pair.

“I know, but I want to hear about your day before I sleep. Did you enjoy the concert at least?”

Immediately, they smiled as they suddenly started gushing about the show, praising you for doing well and complimenting your members as well. “I feel like you intended to be a tease because you know we aren’t there to do anything.” Jennie huffed while shaking her head and Joohyun was crossing her arms. “Is this what happens when we go on tour?” She asked playfully. “You better be ready when you come home.”

But after they spoke, you didn’t say anything in reply. Curiously, their eyes went back to the tiny screen, only to see that your eyes have finally fallen shut and your breathing had evened out.

The peaceful expression on your face made both their hearts melt. It was always like this, and even when Jennie wanted to be annoyed, she couldn’t help but find it cute whenever you fell asleep. Joohyun, despite her worries, would feel a bit better because she’s given a reassurance that you’re able to fall asleep.

“Goodnight baby.” Jennie whispered quietly. “We love you, so much.” Joohyun added while she watched fondly, her hand gently rubbing at the younger girl’s side.

They let the call go on for a while, just quietly watching over you even with it just through a screen, until they’ve decided that it was safe to end the call.

You may not be physically there, but even when you were miles away from each other, there will always be a part of you in their hearts like you were in theirs.

So what if you had to be away for tours? At the end of it all, they were your home and vice versa. Being patient may have been something that each of you had to practice, but in the end, it was always worth it to have your favorite girls in your arms.

#girl group #girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #red velvet #red velvet scenarios #red velvet imagines #red velvet irene #irene #irene bae #bae joohyun #irene scenarios #irene imagines #blackpink #blackpink scenarios #blackpink imagines #jennie #jennie kim #jennie scenarios #jennie imagines

[merakiclosed]

Dino - Dancing in the dark

Please bear with me, I promise it gets better at the end. I’m still very new to writing and I’m trying to get better. 

》 Summary: When you have a bad day, Dino cheers you up by dancing with you. 

》 Song inspiration: Halsey - Is there somewhere (Slowed) 

》 Word count: 1116

》 Notes: Reader has a small scar on the cheek and also unrecognisable freckles

》 Pairing: Reader x Idol!Dino

Masterlist | Requests and messages are open

Since you basically lived with the boys at the dorm rather than at your university dorm they were used to you walking in. Which just happened as you slammed the front door. Ignoring some of the other boys that were currently in the living room, you headed straight for Chan's room. You really just needed to be with him right now.

Opening the door you found him on the third bed, sat on his phone with his laptop on the edge of the bed along with notebooks full of choreographs. He looked up at the sound of the door opening and a bright smile was plastered on his face as soon as he saw you.

However, that soon turned in to one of confusion as you threw your bag to the floor and basically belly flopped on to his bed, next to him. Confused, he poked your side which made you roll over and on to his already laid down body. This caused him to laugh, the vibration going on to you as you put all of your body weight on to him, a faint smile on your face from hearing the best sound in the world.  He started to stroke your hair, making you relax on to him.

"Y/N" he said so softly that it was almost inaudible.

"hmm" you answered, not bothering to look up.

"Why are you doing this" he said with a slight laugh.

" I'm so done with my life right now that.. I just want to forget everything" You paused in the middle.

It sort of just came out, you didn't really mean to say it but because you are so tired it didn't register that you said it in your head.

"hey" he said softly, his hand coming towards your chin to lift your face up.

"Everything will be alright okay. It is just a little hiccup in life, you have to go through the storm to get to the rainbow, right?"

You nodded your head softly whilst looking in to his eyes. Your face showing the same sad smile as before, when you first walked through his bedroom door.  His face lit up. You knew that face, he had an idea. Your face contorted in to one of concern as you didn't really want to do anything.

"Go and get a shower, you stink" He laughed, trying to brighten the mood.

" Fine" You huffed.

You trudged to his dresser draws and picked out one his hoodies and a pair of his boxes and proceeded to the bathroom. You stripped down and stepped in to the shower, letting the hot water trickle down your skin. Thoughts clouded your mind, of everything that has built up in the past month. Without really concentrating you managed to do your shower routine and change into Chan's hoodie, rolling the sleeves up.

The slight creek of the door caught Chan’s attention, looking up from his work, he glances at your figure. You felt shy under his gaze as you continued to towel dry your hair. He cocked his head to the side whilst his eyes traced your figure.

You noticed that it had gotten considerably darker as the moonlight and the fairy lights were the only thing lighting up the room. It looked like he turned his laptop off and put away his notebooks as he was currently on his phone, laying on top of the bed.

Chan looked back at his phone for a few seconds before the silent room soon got surrounded by soft music. Your head shot up, giving him a questioning look. Chan walked towards you and set the towel you were holding on to the back of a chair. His face was shining as the moonlight shone through the window, casting both of your shadows on to the floor.

He took your hands and put them around his neck, he placed his hands around your waist and pulled you closer.

"I really like holding you in my arms" Chan whispered, staring at your face, trying to absorb every little detail of your face.

The way your eyes swirled with adoration whilst looking at him, the almost unrecognisable freckles on your face, the small scar on your cheek. He loved everything about you. When you told him what you hated about yourself, he loved them even more, deciding that he would kiss everything that you deemed was a flaw.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" He commented.

You stared right back at him, a small smile forming on your face. You loved the way his smile could light up the whole world. His amazing laugh. His eyes, even if they were small, they held so much emotion. And his heart. Oh god, his heart held a thousand things, he cared for everyone he would come in contact with. You could never question his love for you.

He started to move you so you was slightly swaying with the music. You shook your head as a small laugh escaped from you " I can't dance"

His smile grew wider, if that was even possible. He slightly lifted you up, catching you by surprise and placed your feet on top of his.

"ah ah, I'm too heavy" You stated, shaking your head obsessively

"No you're not, Y/N" He sighed with a gentle tone

He started to dance again, gently making sure that nothing would go wrong.

You leaned in to him and put your head on his chest, hearing his heart beat. He placed his head on top of yours and kissed your hair. No words were said as the two of you danced in his room. There was no need for words, everything was perfect in this moment. It was like nothing else existed as you both lost yourself in each other, a loving aura surrounding you both.

" You know that you don’t have to be alone, right?" He said.

You hmm'd in response, not wanting to think about anything. You just felt sad for no reason, you couldn't even put it in to words, never mind explaining it.

"I know you are hurting, but I will always be here for you"

Your eyes swelled with tears, you really didn't deserve him.

" I love you" You mumbled as you clutched on to the back of shirt and buried your head further in to his chest.

Chan could feel you shake as he held on to you tighter, afraid that if he let go he would lose you.

He kissed your hair once again and you heard him say "I love you too, Y/N"

Both of you danced the night away in each others arms, sharing I love you's.

Hope you enjoyed this!!! 

#seventeen #seventeen mingyu #jihoon seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen joshua #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #joshua #jihoon svt #dino imagine #dino fluff #dino scenarios #jihoon #dino #chan #leechan #leedino #seventeen jeonghan #jeonghan #scoups #seventeen scoups #seungcheol #seungkwan #seventeen vernon #seventeen dino #jun #the8 #wonwoo #dokyeom

[dinoyoongi]

Confirm or Deny (5)

SYNOPSIS: You’re a member of the rising group FRNZEE. You’ve been dating Namjoon for years when Dispatch releases an article exposing your relationship. Your company confirms the relationship. Big Hit denies it.

PARTS: ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE | SIX

PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader

GENRE: Romance, Angst

WARNINGS: Strong language

WORD COUNT: 3503

AUTHORS NOTE: A bit shorter than the others but I felt this was a good spot to end the chapter on. There will only be one more part to this before it’s over! I want to thank everybody for your patience - I’m definitely not as quick a writer as some others on here and when I do sit down to work on this, writer’s block hits me like a garbage truck every time. This chapter is kind of rushed and Namjoon-less but it I hope you’ll all like it just the same! Thanks for all the love. ❤️

___________________________________

BREAKING: Y/N officially departs FRNZEE & terminates contract with Hot Star Entertainment!

After two months of speculation of whether Y/N would return to FRNZEE after being attacked outside the KBS building, it's been confirmed by Hot Star Entertainment that Y/N has officially terminated her contract with the company. Y/N was recently involved in controversy after her company confirmed dating rumors between Y/N and BTS' leader RM that the latter denied. She had been removed from the group's comeback and was on hiatus from all activities when she was attacked by BTS fans outside the KBS building during a taping of Music Bank that she had attended with her manager out of support for her members. Despite official statements being released by both Big Hit Entertainment and RM – who uploaded a handwritten plea on Weverse begging for his fans to stop the bullying – Hot Star Entertainment felt that Y/N's mental health was being compromised and released her from contract.

“Like they give a shit about my mental health,” you snicker sarcastically, dropping your phone a little too forcefully onto the kitchen counter. From your peripheral, you can see your mother's lips turn downwards in disapproval at your foul language but she fortunately chooses not to scold you, recognizing the delicate situation. It's not as if this is a blindside. Nobody was pulling the wool over your eyes right now. You had been aware that they were permanently removing you from the group and from the company only one day after you returned home to Daejeon.

You're only surprised that they waited this long to announce it. You imagine it wouldn't look too good for them if they kicked you out of the group right after you were assaulted – no surprise there. Their image is all they care about.

“Has anyone tried reaching out to you?” your mother asks from the stove, stirring a steaming pot languidly.

Your eyes fall down to your still-lit phone, catching the small red balloon icon that signifies missed notifications. Calls, texts, voicemail, emails; you don't need to open them to see who they're from – you've spent the past week dodging any incoming forms of communication from everyone including your members, your former manager, the CEO of Hot Star, numbers that you don't recognize that you assume to be reporters and even all seven members of BTS.

Out of all the names that showed up on the screen on your phone, Namjoon's appeared the most.

His unread messages and unopened voicemails feel like an anchor on your chest. Is he reaching out to pity you for what happened with his fans? Is he reaching out to get back together with you? Is he reaching out to cuss at you because you dragged his name into your articles again? Is he reaching out to hammer that final nail in the coffin and be done with you for good?

All of these scenarios are equally terrifying so you pretend that the messages don't exist. However, there are times when you miss him so much that your chest physically aches and the thought of loading up your phone's inbox to listen to his voice is so devastatingly tempting. Playing his albums or watching him on YouTube isn't the same. You don't miss RM – you miss Namjoon. Your Namjoon.

You're not completely depriving yourself of him, though. Two months ago, the day of your attack, he posted a message messily scrawled onto a napkin to his Weverse account. Despite his username displaying as RM, your heart can tell just by his words that it's Namjoon. You've stared at the message so many times over the past few weeks that you have the words ingrained into your head.

ARMY,

Today, somebody I care about was seriously injured. I want to deny that our lovely ARMY would do anything to cause harm to other people. That's not Bangtan. That's not what we teach, what we stand for. But that was our logo on their phone cases. That was our lightstick in the pocket of their bags. That was our faces on keychains that hung from their straps. At the risk of upsetting some, I speak on behalf of the rest of the group to say to those who harm other people in the name of Bangtan – both physically and verbally – you are not ARMY. ARMY is better than this. ARMY is too good for this.

Please ARMY, let's always be better.

It's a simple message but one that you know was difficult for him to write. Having known the boys for the majority of their career growth, you know that the admiration they have for their fans is one-hundred percent not an act. Knowing that some of them assaulted you in such a humiliating manner had to have felt like a knife in the gut.

“Nobody,” you lie to your mom who quirks her brows, waiting for your response. “Nobody has tried contacting me at all.”

“When are you going back to Seoul?”

You sigh, dropping your eyes onto the kitchen counter. “Mom, why would I go back to Seoul? There's nothing there for me anymore.”

“What are you going to do then?” your mother asks softly. You hear the spoon she was stirring with drop the table, followed by a heavy sigh. “Is that it? You're done with your music career?”

“It isn't as if my contract just expired and I can shop around for new agencies. I was the center of a very huge scandal. I was the butt of jokes and online bullying for so long. I don't think there's an agency out there that would poke me with a ten foot pole at this point.”

“But you trained for so long. You didn't go to university. Y/N, what -”

Your body slides from the stool, your feet slapping against the linoleum so hard that your mother flinches from the sound. “I'm suddenly feeling kind of sleepy. I'll just go take a nap before dinner.”

She calls your name as you lug yourself upstairs towards your bedroom but you pretend not to hear. You're not angry with her – absolutely not. If you're angry at anything, it's your life. It's this situation. It's the world. It's a fact that most idols audition and join agencies for two things and two things only – money and fame. And while those two things can be really great at times, that's not why you decided to be an idol. You decided to become an idol because, well … there was really nothing else you could do.

Throughout your life, whenever anybody asked you “what do you want to be when you grow up?” you never gave the usual answers that your classmates did – police officers, veterinarians, doctors, lawyers, judges, the president. Your answer from the first time you were asked until the last remained unchanged: an idol. Music was everything to you. There was nothing that you could study for, nothing you could major in that would give you a sense of happiness and fulfillment like music did. Like music still does. It was the upbeat songs, the quirky choreography, the super cute but super outrageous outfits, the camaraderie and bonds formed between group members and the thrill of satisfaction when all of that came together for a comeback. That is what you've always wanted. There was nothing that came even close.

And now that you've had it, now that it's slipped right through your fingers … what do you do? What are you supposed to do with your life?

Heaving yourself onto your bed, you groan in frustration. Your phone chirps from the pocket of your hooded sweatshirt, alerting you to a text message. Waving the device in front of your face, you sigh when you see Ji-na's name.

Ji-na: please be strong. keep your head up. don't skip meals. i love you and i'm sorry.

Your chest throbs are you reread the words again. And then for a third time. If you were being honest with yourself, you stopped being angry with Ji-na and the rest of the group the moment you arrived home. If you were to put yourself in their shoes – would you have reacted the same way? An idol's career is already typically short; seven or eight years if you're lucky. Would you be willing to risk that for another person? The knee-jerk response might come easy to some but only those who have been in your shoes, trained as long and hard as you and your members did, can answer that question. But despite not holding onto any anger, you can't erase the betrayal from your heart. Ji-na was more than just a member of your group. Ji-na was your best friend. Ji-na was the hand that you reached for when FRNZEE was getting mobbed at airports. Ji-na is your first dibs sleeping buddy when you had to pair up in hotel rooms. There was very little that you couldn't and wouldn't tell Namjoon but if there was – Ji-na was the one you confided in. Ji-na was everything.

And going through this without her and Namjoon seems incredibly impossible.

Your eyes leave the phone, slipping over to the corner of the room where your suitcase and bags are haphazardly strewn about as you were too lazy to commit to unpacking. The one thing propped neatly against the wall is a sparkly, medium-sized gift bag, intricately tied with rainbow ribbons. Ji-na's birthday is coming up in week but you've had her present ready for months. Instead of leaving it at the dorms, you brought it home with you. At the time, you were so caught up in your anger and woes and self-misery that you had every intention of sending it back to the store once you settled in but now?

It seems you have a present to hand deliver.

_______________________________________

- TWO WEEKS LATER -

You've only been gone for two months but it seems like Seoul has already changed so much. The first big difference? There's now a doorman stationed in the lobby of the dorm apartments. You can tell that he recognizes you immediately by the way his cheeks flush red but he still refuses to let you go any farther, keeping you a safe distance away from the elevator. You get it, you really do. He was probably hired to keep out nosy reporters and fansites and journalists but knowing Hot Star the way that you do now, you have no doubt that he was also explicitly warned not to let you in. Sighing, you pull your phone from your bag, typing a few quick words to Ji-na before hitting send.

It only takes three minutes for the elevator to open with a loud ding and a flash of pale skin is hurtling itself at you. Ji-na wraps her arms around your neck so tightly that you cough from the pressure until she loosens her grip. You try to ignore the moisture that you see building in her eyes when she pulls away.

Grabbing her hand, she tugs you toward the elevator. “Come on. We have some talking to do.”

“Ah -” the doorman interjects, nervously stepping in front of you. “I'm sorry, Ji-na. She's on the no clearance list. She can't go up.”

Ji-na scoffs. “Even with my permission? Even though I'm bringing her up with me?”

He grimaces. “I'm sorry. It's my job.”

“It's okay, Ji-na. I just wanted to drop this off anyway,” you say, thrusting the bag in her direction. She stares at it for a few hard seconds before hesitantly accepting it. “Happy Birthday. If you're ever near Daejeon, let me know, okay?”

You turn on your heel to leave but a painful grip on your hand stops you. Ji-na twirls you around to face her, like a scene straight out of a cheesy drama. She's toe to toe with the doorman, facial features locked in what you know is supposed to be intimidation but on Ji-na it just looks like an angry kitten.

“If you won't let her upstairs, let's compromise. Your office?” she quirks an eyebrow, head jutting toward the door behind his podium. He contemplates this offer for a moment before relenting with a sigh, dropping a pair of keys into her hand.

“Don't tell your management about this, okay? She's not even supposed to be in the building at all.”

Ji-na throws him an obnoxious salute before yanking you into the room.

_______________________________________

Your heart-to-heart is long and full of anger, accusation, revelations, tears, laughter, giggling and so much more. While you're not ready to completely forgive her for leaving you behind that day, you've accepted the reality that Ji-na is one of the only friends that you have and you're not ready to let her go. She understands your continuing edginess with the situation and promises to do everything in her power to regain your trust and make it up to you.

You expected to leave with a heavier heart than you came with. Instead, most of the weight has lifted.

You only exit the doorman's office after Ji-na receives a text from one of her managers about a project meeting the group has soon. Her arm is around your side as she walks you to the front door, squeezing you tightly. “Please come visit a lot more. We have some off time coming up – would you mind terribly if I came to stay with you in Daejeon?”

You roll your eyes but your smile stays wide. “No, I wouldn't mind terribly. Just give me a heads up so I can stock up on soju and shrimp chips.”

She throws her head back to laugh loudly, bumping her hip to yours as the two of you take a few more steps toward the front door. “Yes! You know me so well! And you also have to make sure that you have tons of-”

“Y/N.”

The voice is jarring but immediately recognizable. Lifting your head, you meet the eyes of your previous manager. The last time you had seen him, he was loading your belongings into the back of a car that would send you right home. He gapes at you, gaze wide and shocked. Behind you, the doorman audibly groans.

“Um, he has nothing to do with this,” you hurriedly declare, throwing your thumb behind you in the groaning man's direction. “He was in the process of kicking me out, I swear. He's very good at his job. You guys should give him a raise. Okay, bye.”

You squeeze Ji-na's hand one final time before moving to scurry out of the building. For the second time today, fingers wrap around your wrist and pull you backward. You sigh as you yank your hand away. “A simple 'wait! stop!' would suffice. Why is everyone so grabby today? Look, I was just dropping off a birthday present for Ji-na. I promise that the doorman didn't let me go upstairs.”

“Y/N, I don't care about the doorman. I have something for you,” he says quickly before reaching into the tote bag that hangs around his shoulder. He rummages somewhat frantically for a few seconds before producing a business card, raising it into the air with pride and beaming as if it was the cure to a zombie outbreak. “You remember me telling you about one of my old co-managers for a different group who quit Hot Star and started working for P NATION?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. This was not the greeting that you expected out of your former manager.

“Um … I think so. He's one of Hyuna's managers now, you said.”

“Yes!” he screeches, his chest heaving as if he has just finished running a marathon. You exchange a glance with Ji-na who looks equally perplexed. “Yes, he works with Hyuna. And he called me last week and said that Hyuna heard about everything that happened to you in the news. And so she started looking you up on YouTube and she thinks you're really talented and wants your contact information.”

It takes a few seconds for your brain to register everything that he has just said considering how quick, breathless and jumbled his words are. Ji-na is elbowing you excitedly in the ribs.

“I've tried asking Hot Star for your address but they wouldn't tell me anything. I was literally coming here to ask Ji-na to try to reach out to you so I could pass the information along but here you are! It's like fate!”

Ji-na throws her elbow much deeper this time, accompanying the jab with a sharp screech. You can see that there's something exciting happening but your brain isn't putting it all together yet.

“Um, why does Hyuna want my contact information? You said she heard about my situation in the news so she must know that I'm not with FRNZEE anymore, right? Or any company, for that matter. We can't collab or anything like that.”

Manager and Ji-na groan in unison, so in sync that it seems rehearsed.

“Y/N, please, are you really this dense? Do I need to dumb this down for you?”

You grimace but bat your eyelashes hopefully. “Would you?”

She sighs, slapping her hands down hard onto your shoulders. “Hyuna was kicked out of Cube for a dating scandal. Psy – who founded P NATION – signed her right after. You were kicked out of Hot Star for a dating scandal. And now Hyuna is contacting you. I mean, I'm just speculating here but there's no way this is a coincidence.”

Wait.

If she's saying what you think she's saying then …

Hyuna wants to contact you … to sign you … to P NATION?

All you were here to do was to drop off Ji-na's birthday present. After this, you were going to stop into a few cosmetic stores to stock up on some harder-to-find products and then treat yourself to a well-deserved oreo bingsu before heading home. Talking to Hyuna – arguably one of the most popular and influential females in the k-pop industry ever – about possibly signing with Psy's new agency was not in the forecast.

Realizing your stunned state, Manager smirks smugly, lifting your hand to drop the business card into before wrapping your fingers around it and letting it fall.

The card feels like fire in your palm.

“Y/N,” Ji-na's voice breaks through your haze. You glance up at her silently, her warm smile only heightening your nervousness. “Go home and call her. Listen to what she has to say or what she has to … offer. Okay? And then call me and tell me every little detail.”

“You guys, that can't be right. Hyuna and Dawn's scandal was different – they both admitted to being in the relationship. Nobody bullied or laughed at them. I … I'm a joke. Why would P NATION want to sign me? Do you think they're just going around plucking up poor little k-pop idols who are mistreated by their labels? No, they're smarter than that. They-”

A hand – belonging to either Manager or Ji-na, you're not sure which one – whacks you upside the head. The strength of the blow is painful but it has its desired affect – it shuts you right up.

“Stop it, Y/N,” Manager scolds. “What happened to you wasn't fair and we all know it. You worked so hard for FRNZEE and maybe this is your good karma. Maybe this is ...”

“Fate!” Ji-na squeals hysterically.

___________________________________

An hour later, you're sitting in the corner of the cafe by yourself, a heaping bowl of bingsu untouched in front of you. Instead, your eyes focus on the card that you've set down onto the table. You wonder if this is a prank; if someone from Hot Star is getting one last act of cruel revenge on you before parting ways completely.

But what if it's not?

What if this is what was always supposed to happen? Everything that has happened to you, everything that you've been through, everything that you've lost … was it for this? Half of you jitters in happiness at the prospect of being signed to a label that houses some of the greats – Psy, Hyuna, Jessi. But the other half of you mourns what you had to give up for this.

Namjoon.

Was this opportunity supposed to make you grateful for losing him? Are you supposed to feel like your breakup served some kind of purpose now?

It didn't. Most of the happiest moments you can remember are either with Namjoon or because of Namjoon. If the choice was your idol career or Namjoon then …

Why do you have to make a choice? Why can't you have both? Why is that wrong?

For the first time, you shift your eyes away from the P NATION logo and onto the phone number scrawled messily onto the bottom of the card.

Lifting your phone, you dial with trembling fingers.

< -- PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER -- >

#bts #bts fanfic #namjoon #kim namjoon #RM #rm fanfic #namjoon fanfic #bts namjoon #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #rm x you #rm x reader #namjoon angst #rm angst #namjoon imagine #rm imagine #bts imagine #bts x you #bts x reader

[c3stlav1e]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥   basics 

♡ .  stage name: anya

♡ .  birth name: na eunhye

♡ .  birthday: july 28, 1996

♡ .  zodiac: leo

♡ .  birthplace: seoul, south korea

♡ .  ethnicity: korean

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥   personal

♡ . personality

anya genuinely has good intentions 90% of the time, her biggest problem is getting them across correctly after leading such a spoiled life. she is exceptionally generous, never knowing to want for anything herself, she never allows those closest to her to want for anything either. however, this can sometimes get under people's skin when they view it as pity or think that she sees them as a charity case (which, honestly, she does sometimes). she is very straightforward, saying what she means and meaning what she says. she is also the first to defend her own character or that of her friends should anyone try and start something with her or someone she cares about. she is never afraid to ask for something she wants and will absolutely advocate for others should they need her confidence. simultaneously, she is never one to accept a “no” easily, and is exceptionally good at using charms or logic to negotiate out of any rejection. she makes a great hype woman because she tends to be incredibly objective, but if she doesn’t think something is working, she will try her best to offer solutions for improvement. she can be a bit of a try hard sometimes, but she really just takes her passions seriously, whether it be her career, talents, or relationships.

♡ . family

. sim sunyoung “ shannon “ ; mother

. na junghoon “ gordon “ ; father

. na eunsung “ sebastian “ ; brother

. hong soonhee ; grandmother

♡ . physical

. height: 163 cm ( 5’4” )

. faceclaim: im nayeon

. body mods: single lobe piercings, a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on her hip

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥   professional

♡ . label: rainbow entertainment

♡ . training period: 9 months

♡ . group position: lead vocalist

♡ . idol persona

anya is the princess of kpop, truly. she is rich, beautiful, talented, and charming, someone who is hard to outmatch in the public arena. she is the most popular member of the group, never failing to make waves with a simple instagram post. she is constantly in some deal or campaign with luxury brands, however her ambassadorship with yves saint laurent is currently her longest running and arguably most iconic. she is also widely known for having several high profile dating scandals, from exo’s kai to jean arnault. her princess role is consistent within the group, however it is more of a lighthearted joke with her members and fans than how seriously the press and the public tend to take it. she attended private school in england for her entire education, so her english speaking voice has a very posh british accent that most fans adore, however it adds to the whole princess bit. her members love to poke fun at her by copying her accent or certain words she uses, but it is always in good fun. she is not one to get her hands dirty if she can help it, and she often catches teasing for that as well. in games and challenges they do on variety shows, she will go all in for puzzles or mental battles but as soon as it’s something physical, the rest of her members do not want her on their team.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥   history

na eunhye is the eldest daughter to the youngest son of a powerful chaebol family. she was never very close to her immediate family, her father largely absent, her mother far too overbearing, and her little brother off in his own world, especially during the school year she spent off in england at school. but the one person in her family she worshipped more than anything was always her grandmother. her father’s mother, hong soonhee, was the matriarch of the family and lived in a huge mansion in the mountains outside seoul, where anya spent her summers more often than not. being the youngest girl of the family, she was always soonhee’s favorite. when she had her grandmother in her corner, anya never even need ask for anything she wanted.

her mother, who honestly married into the family for he connection to the money, was almost jealous of the relationship she had with soonhee. anya’s grandmother never liked her mother and had a knack for disagreeing with her on most things. when anya announced that she decided she wanted to pursue singing, her mother was absolutely against it. although she had taken ballet and piano lessons all her life, and had a rather beautiful voice, her mother believed it to be a very improper profession and entirely useless in life. but her grandmother loved to hear her sing, constantly asking her to give her little concerts every time she visited her house. although she wouldn’t normally agree with the idol life as a career, she simply wanted her favorite granddaughter to be happy and if performing did that, then she would back it 100%. especially if her mother was particularly against it.

she was accepted into both sm and yg entertainment, and was struggling to pick between the two when the small, newly rebuilt rainbow entertainment offered her a spot in their newest lineup that was set to debut in less than a year. her grandmother was hesitant, knowing that sm and yg would both provide the best shot at fame for her granddaughter, but anya knew she could train for years and years at those companies and never debut. she wanted her shot at fame as quick as possible, and took the leap with rbe. it was hard getting along with the other girls at first, some trainees treating her as if she had bought her way into the lineup, but going through the trials and tribulations of debut together brought them all that much closer.

#c’est la vie ! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ profile ♡ . #c’est la vie ! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ anya ♡ . #fictional kpop community #fictional kpop group #fictional kpop idol #oc kpop idol #oc kpop group #fake kpop group #fake kpop idol #kpop oc #oc idol #idol oc #fictional idol oc #fictional idol community #fictional idol group #oc kpop gg #fake kpop oc

[a-secondhand-sorrow]

one day we'll all get still

(ao3 link in the notes! title from a world alone by lorde)

The summer is quiet.

Impossibly quiet, really; it’s like the whole world decides to hold its breath and count to ten, like everyone is so used to the silence that the globe itself slows its rotations and stills, stretching out the days until everyone’s shadows are long on the sidewalks and the sky is painted in a million colors. The humidity in the air clings to everything and weighs it down until it rests on the burnt-out grass, watching, waiting.

Quiet is not quite a large enough word to encompass what the summer is.

Even in the hum of air conditioning units working overtime to provide some relief to those inside of their houses, there’s a peace that will never be felt in the autumn or the winter or the spring. That peace can’t be found unless you’re sitting with the sun hot on the back of your neck and the top of your head, full of worries, yes, but without any true care.

Zoe sits on one such day. Her converse stretches out into the street with her legs, and from where she perches on the curb, she can see only what is immediately in front of her: houses that look the same as the houses next to them, rows of minivans and gardenias and shrubbery. She hears the hum of the air conditioners and she wishes she were inside, benefiting from their overtime instead of sweating through her class t-shirt like the eggs everyone always jokes about cooking on the sidewalk, but she knows she won’t. Shouldn’t. Can’t. There is too much turmoil, too much dust settling, and she doesn’t want to choke and accidentally set off another mine.

Is this house her childhood home or a cleverly disguised game of Minesweeper? Probably both.

Someone sits next to her, and she knows it’s Evan before anything else. She’s always known when it’s him; she can sense the difference between him and everyone else with eerie clarity. Evan sits, as though there’s nowhere he’d rather be than sitting beside her on the dusty, rough curb. As though he were designed for this and nothing else. Zoe doesn’t quite look at him, but from the corner of her eye, she sees everything he does. She couldn’t stop seeing him if she tried.

He offers her his hand. In the grand scheme of things - of all the contact they’ve shared, hours they’ve clung to each other, years they’ve spent sharing beds and curling up on furniture and breathing in the same breaths - it’s nothing. But somehow it feels like something as she places her palm atop his, still not quite looking at him, and lets her fingers lock with his, trapping the heat between their sealed hands.

Because, in all the years before that, they were Zoe Murphy and Evan Hansen, all sharp elbows and gangly limbs and bare feet pounding on mid-July pavement and the faint smell of sugar that seemed to follow them everywhere. They were flickering street lamps illuminating nothing but some weeds poking through blacktop, hands covered in chalk and rainbows of drawings blooming across the crumbling sidewalks. They were the feeling of a playground ball rough under your uneven fingertips, and the sound of small hands tearing at the brittle, dried grass, and swinging so high up on a swing that the swingset groaned under the weight of it. They were handfuls of moments trickling from between their fingers like sand on a beach, a collection so bright and so mighty that it seemed inevitable it would explode.

But they were sixteen and seventeen, respectively, far from the days of running carefree without any adults to look after them. They would sometimes watch reruns of the Andy Griffiths’ Show at the Murphy’s with glasses of Cynthia’s town-famous lemonade (which was really just half a pack of Crystal Light mixed with lemon juice, though Cynthia admitted this in whispers so low and conspiratorial to both kids that they would think they were guarding a national treasure of a secret), and they joked that they were Opie - between Zoe’s huge, monument-like home with her parents and brother and Evan’s tiny, cluttered house where his mother was never home, always picking up another shift at the hospital an hour’s drive away in the city, they rarely had any adults checking their whereabouts or any home to post up in just like their 1960s idol. Their laughs are more restrained but no less bright as teenagers, their smiles just as wide but more difficult to coax out, the smatters of freckles dashed across their faces just as strong from hours spent in front of the sun.

Summer brings out the children in them, even though you have to squint to see it.

Summers also used to be spent loudly, all the kids in town creating a general hum of excitement and wonder at the warm days and short nights. But when the summer before Zoe’s junior year hits, there’s no laughter to be heard echoing down streets with the chimes of bike bells, no smacks or shattering sounds accompanying ball games on the elementary school’s playground, no fire hydrants busted open to give everyone an impromptu pool party. It’s like the town itself can sense that something bad is coming and has silenced itself preemptively, like by keeping everyone taciturn and silent nothing bad can befall them. It’s no peaceful silence, either. It’s a loud silence, one that takes up space in every crack in every road; and it leaves everything looking off-kilter. Heidi is gone almost constantly, and Larry and Cynthia’s blow-out fights have peaked at least three times a week, and Connor...well, Connor would always be a whole other story.

Despite the silence that weighs over the town like a blanket, Zoe is far from comforted by the town-wide hush. She’s filled with unbidden energy, leaving her restless and fidgety and ready to crawl out of her skin at almost every moment.

So she stands up, yanking Evan with her. He follows as though there is nothing else he’d rather do, as though she is the only force that can move him despite the fact that he stands a good 6 inches taller than her even slouched as he always is.

There’s a little cafe in the next town over. They rarely go there - there’s not exactly a reason to, since they can do just fine finding their own food, and it’s a ripoff anyway. But occasionally, when the oppressive heat (one only a small town and the height of the summer can create) forces them into their lightest clothes and has them practically tearing their hair out, they make the trek just for something to do.

That day, they take Zoe’s car - she’s technically not allowed to drive with just another teenager in the car, but no one’s enforced that for as long as Zoe can remember. So they drive in her shiny, brand-new black Audi with paint you could practically eat off of and blast Lorde with the windows firmly shut, singing along because they know every word. They’ve been living off of her two albums ever since they’ve come out, and she can’t help but smile as she thinks of all the hours spent stretched out on her back on Evan’s bedroom floor, giggling as he dramatically mimics her deep tone in Ribs or sitting on her back porch where he tries to sing Liability in a high falsetto, forcing her water come out her nose with the strength of her laughs. He’s quieter that day, but the whole summer has felt that way, not just him. Everyone seems to be pressed down but some invisible force, words poised on the tips of their tongues without ever breaking free.

Normally, she’d be clinging onto his arm or throwing some limb around him to drag him towards the café, but the temperature in her car reads a toasty 96 degrees before even factoring in the humidity. She settles for dramatically opening the door for him, hiding a wince when the smooth flesh of her palm grills against the sun-heated metal door.

At first sight, the café appears to be empty, but as they look for another moment they see patrons dotted at the tables; they’d blent so seamlessly in with the walls of the shop, as though they did nothing but sit there always, that their brains could not help but write them out of the initial picture. True to form, there is no one behind the counter, but Zoe and Evan wait in front of it all the same; there was a chime when the door opened, and they are far too used to the way businesses operate when there’s little demand to expect anything more than this.

A woman barely three years older than them emerges from the back some minutes later while looking as though she stepped out from a sepia photo. Like the customers, she blends in. When she greets them, her voice is full of false cheer even though she seems to be wilting at the edges just like the poppies in their planters on the sidewalk.

“Hi,” Zoe replies, tearing her eyes away from the small menu nailed to the wall. “Uh, could I have a small blackberry iced tea and-” she glances at Evan, who fiddles with his shirt and lets his eyes jump around the air beside the server and decides to order for him. “And a small English Breakfast tea with cream?”

When the color-void server returns with the drinks and they take them out to the car, he thanks her from the passenger seat, but she just shushes him and starts up the ignition.

Zoe glances at him a lot over their drive home. It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before, but she still can’t stop. She can’t help but think that he’s so wildly different and so completely the same as he’s always been, even uncharacteristically silent on a car ride. He reaches one hand to adjust the sound on “A World Alone” and Lorde’s voice swells with his fingers twisting the dial.

“Maybe people are jerks, but not you.”

He starts to hum, then. His hair starts to fall into one eye, but he doesn’t move it; he simply taps one hand against his thigh. Between sips of tea, he hums a harmony to Lorde’s main melody, and the sound soothes her heart more than anything else. His lashes flutter against his cheek as they get into the chorus.

“You’re my best friend and we’re dancing in this world alone...”

At once, Evan sputters out a “Zoe!” around a mouth of tea and she slams the break just in time to see the red light bright above them. A horn beeps one long, prolonged honking sound from the intersection immediately to their right.

Evan speaks, his voice pitching up to be high and breathless. “Could’ve been worse, I guess.”

She’s reminded, suddenly, of the time after Connor’s birthday party in middle school when they helped her parents take down the blue and white balloons taped up everywhere. Evan had untied one of the balloons, his fingers exceptionally nimble for someone so incapable of staying still, and inhaled the helium inside so he’d get a funny voice, and Zoe followed suit. His voice is almost the same in her car, albeit from fear rather than helium, but she gets a sudden urge to laugh anyway.

“I guess so,” she says at length, and before she knows it the two of them are looking at each other and laughing. “I’m - I’m sorry, I did not mean to do that-”

“Ah, really? I thought you were finally acting on your plans to get rid of me.”

She pulls a face. “For what motive?”

He grins quickly before it fades again. “Annoyance.” Evan points ahead of them towards the light, which is newly returned to green. “Speaking of which, if we don’t want to get honked at or rear-ended…”

“This town would,” she mutters darkly, resuming her driving.

Pulling into the Murphy’s driveway is achingly familiar. Her mom’s tiny silver sedan gleams in the sun, contrasting the freshly-trimmed grass nicely. The imposing white of their house seems to melt into the air around it, making all edges soft and fuzzy as though distorted through water. (“You could swim through this air,” she remarks lightly as she steps out of the car, and going by Evan’s small yuk of disgust, he agrees.) Her car slides to a stop across the uneven gravel of their driveway, and with that, their journey is over.

They practically glide past the perfectly-manicured shrubs and flowers, moving determinedly towards the door. Although Zoe’s key is warm in her hand, the condensation from her iced tea still cooling on her palm, the door is hot enough to burn and scar. It takes a moment for her to brave the temperature and open it.

The sunlight reflects harshly off of the freshly-painted white walls, nearly blinding them as they stumble in. Zoe blinks as she makes her way down the hallway, letting the sound of her sneakers against the hardwood ensure her that she moved in the right direction. Her vision starts to adjust just as she enters the kitchen, Evan just behind her.

Connor is in the kitchen, clearly intending to pass her and take the route out the front door, but when he catches sight of Zoe and Evan he stops short with his hands rested in the pockets of his black hoodie. The siblings freeze at the same time, memories of a thousand old fights in the kitchen surfacing at once.

The problem with their fights is that neither seeks them out. They don’t know a storm is coming until the wind knocks them down.

“Hey, Connor,” Evan says, his hands already jumping to his shirt hem, probably in an attempt to diffuse the sudden tension in the air.

Connor nods briefly in Evan’s direction. He might mutter a “hey” back, but if he does it’s barely audible. He watches her as though gauging her mood when she finally regains control of her limbs and crosses to the kitchen table. She’s watching him, too, even if she’s more subtle about it. The July heat still clings to her skin, and it’s all she can think of as she looks at Connor’s outfit.

“You’re going to broil to death in that, Con,” she says before she can think to do otherwise. She stiffens almost immediately, and suddenly she can look anywhere in the room except her brother. Mentally shaking her head, she forces her hand to move and drop her sunglasses to the table, an action that is too nonchalant for the sudden tense air in the room. She just lets her fingers curl around her tea and waits with unavoidable acceptance for the blow-up to happen.

But it never comes.

“You’re going to burn to a crisp in that outfit,” is all Connor mutters in reply. Zoe gets the sudden urge to grin, but she suppresses it, electing instead to glance down at her tank top and shorts combo.

“There’s, like, a 90 percent humidity rate.”

Zoe finally meets Connor’s eye, and she could swear his muscles twitch as if with the urge to smile. “You, like, burn to a crisp in two seconds of sunlight.”

“That’s true,” Evan says just as Zoe exclaims that she “doesn’t burn,” she “freckles.”

She just throws a faux glare in his direction, examining the dark, freckled skin of her forearm at the same time. Curse her brother and his ability to not burn in the sun; despite their skin being the same shade, she was infinitely more susceptible to the sun’s strength.

Connor clears his throat suddenly. “Well,” he says, with a brief nod. “I’ll just…” and, with that, he slips out the front door.

Zoe shakes her head in his wake, clutching her tea tighter. She looks at Evan. His mouth is shaped as though he’s about to say something, but she brushes past him to move towards the stairs, effectively cutting him off. Footsteps sound behind her on every stair, so she knows he follows.

He trails after her into her pastel-splashed room, shutting the door behind them. Cynthia or Larry being home is unlikely, but the illusion of privacy is nice all the same. She crosses the carpeted floor to crack a window open almost immediately, nearly spilling her drink in the process. Her room is stiflingly hot, leaving the air clinging damply to them. Evan pulls a face, falling into the desk chair while completely indifferent to the fact that it’s covered in hoodies.

“I forgot your room is actually a greenhouse,” he says, watching as she feels the slightly cooler air from outside settle on her cheeks.

“It’s like the air conditioning is actively avoiding it,” she agrees. She turns back around to face him, leaning against the window sill and readjusting her drink in hand.

The edges of Evan’s dark brows pull together, and she sees as his jaw clenches and unclenches in rapid succession. “So, with C-”

“No,” she cuts him off before he can even begin. “I don’t think I can…”

Although she’s used to how heavy her head feels in the summer, the weight of her curls feels heavier than normal, and she tugs at the ends near her shoulders uncomfortably. When she doesn’t move them, they cling to her shoulder blades and refuse to budge. Evan’s eyes, the infinite pools like aged whiskey that are almost as intoxicating that she knows so well, study her as she fidgets until he can’t take it anymore and looks away. “Of course,” is all he says in response.

She drains the last of her tea and tosses it into the trashcan in one fluid motion.

At some point she puts some music on, no longer trusting Evan’s music taste even with her continued influence on him. They shift from activity to activity as they always do, sometimes speaking and sometimes just enjoying being with another person. Dodie’s voice fades to Paramore fades to Jasmine Cephas Jones fades to Hozier and then Zoe grabs her guitar to play along while perched on the edge of her bed. Evan, with his voice of an angel, sings as best as he can, laughing at the low notes and his attempts at a falsetto.

She’s so used to this, the notes of her guitar and the timbre of his laugh and the duvet under her legs, but in a summer that has felt entirely shifted just left of what she feels it should be something feels off all the same. Evan joins her on the bed, crossing his legs under him like a little kid, and she’s so used to being close to him but like everything else it feels different. More charged. More conscious. Like if she’s not careful she’ll tilt and land directly where she knows she can never be, her hands settling at the base of his jaw and sliding over his skin and his hair until there’s even less space between them.

They fall asleep on top of the covers of her bed anyway, sometimes after they tire themselves of singing. Their bodies manage to curl just short of each other, just as they’ve been sleeping since they were little kids. Zoe drifts off without any blankets or even a pillow under her head since it’s far too hot for anything on her. Her fingertips lightly brush Evan’s and that’s the last sensation she is aware of. Similarly, she’s vaguely aware of the fact that he pulls away at some point, and she feels his absence like the weight of a necklace around her throat, but although she’s aware of it, she isn’t roused till the taps come from her window.

She mentioned, once, that she wanted to be awoken one night with someone throwing rocks at her window while she was still in high school. Zoe never thought Evan would do more than laugh it off, but she’s proven wrong that night. The clock is barely gone eleven when quick, insistent taps sound at her windowpane, and she rouses - she’s always been a light sleeper. Evan’s grinning face meets her gaze from about four feet below her, and she takes a minute-long detour to throw a flannel on and brush her teeth before coming back to the window with a bottle of red wine she knows her parents won’t notice is missing. She drops down the half-flight and lands like a cat on her feet.

Well, not quite. She feels her ankle buckle beneath her as her converse make contact with the ground, and her whole body follows it. Letting out an involuntary hiss, she reaches her free hand to Evan and he’s in front of her before she can fall at all, his hands finding her elbows and hoisting her upright. She and Evan are genuinely worried she’s hurt it for a moment, and she hops into a more-standing position while leaning on Evan and bouncing on her good foot. But the pain passes quickly, and Evan laughs once he’s sure she’s okay.

“Wow, such an adult,” he says as she brandishes the bottle for him. She lightly shoves at his shoulder and just tells him to lead the way to wherever they’re going.

Evan is in rare form; he’s never this confident, surging forward along cracked sidewalks only half-illuminated in the dim streetlights the town never decides to fix. One flickers out as they pass beneath it, and she almost stumbles before he reaches out and wraps an arm around her waist. She leans into the touch, letting out an involuntary shudder that she blames on the night chill, and they continue the walk in the same fashion.

When Zoe sees the familiar sign of Ellison Park, she just looks to him, her eyebrows furrowing, but he grabs her free hand and drags her through their normal haunts in the park - the huge oak towards the entrance, the lone statue of a kid reading a book, a bench Zoe once got stung by a bee on - and through a thick crop of trees.

“If I get triple E from a goddamn mosquito, I’m blaming you,” she grumbles, swatting at imaginary bugs.

He shrugs, still leading her to destinations unknown. “Go for it.”

She has another snarky reply posed on the top of her tongue, but it slides away as they break away onto what appears to be the side of a hill surrounded by trees. Above them, the stars shine down as though to smile at them, brighter than anywhere else in town. The whole place is bathed in a faint silver light like something out of a dream.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, but it comes out croaky and near-silent because her breath can’t find its way out around the lump that has grown in her throat. “What is this place?”

Evan shrugs as a small half-smile crops onto his face. “Found it the other day. I can’t believe we haven’t seen it before.”

Wordlessly, Zoe trails over to the slight incline, letting herself flop over until she lies sprawled on her back. “Holy shit,” she says again, beckoning him over. He’s over in an instant, lying at a slight angle to her so his head is right below hers and his feet trail away to her left. “I haven’t seen Orion since I was a kid…”

And that’s how time moves, for them. The bottle of wine passes between them like a game of hot potato and Zoe points out constellations she knows Evan can’t see, even when he tries his best. There is nothing to do but lay there with your best friend and see the universe stretched out in front of you, and Zoe is all at once breathlessly thankful for this little town and its glacial pace.

“It looks so peaceful out there,” he mumbles as the wine starts to take effect in her brain.

She turns her face away from the sky for the first time that night; she’d felt his gaze on the side of her face while she spoke, even when he pretended to be looking at the constellations, but now he really seems to just be looking at the stars. The silvery light gives his dark skin an almost pearlescent sheen, and Zoe thinks he’s never looked so beautiful as he does then, all the glow of the moon captured in his face and the shine of the stars reflected in his deep brown eyes like a long-lost galaxy.

For a moment, she wonders if she’s been wrong this whole time. Maybe she’d thought she was looking at the sky when the whole sky she’d ever need was inches from her face.

“Like everything is where it’s meant to be,” he continues, indifferent to the way her thoughts have derailed. “Balanced. Purposeful. On some...predestined track, just thousands of particles and stars and novas being drawn together so we have something to look at and know that something larger exists.”

He doesn’t turn to face her, but she wishes he would. Zoe longs to feel his breath hot against her cheek like an errant star falling from the sky, to feel the tingle of his lips so close to the skin of her face that entire galaxies bloom across her skin, to feel the star shine words he utters without any air between them. She wishes he would turn his face, let their noses brush in some pseudo kiss. She wishes he would kiss her, or she would kiss him, but they’re caught in limbo instead.

And, tipsy under the stars in Ellison Park, Zoe reckons with the fact that she might be a little in love with Evan Hansen.

#deh #deh fluff #deh fic #deh fanfic #deh fanfiction #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen au #small town au #best friends au #evan hansen #dear evan hansen fanfic #dear evan hansen imagine #dear evan hansen fanfiction #zoe murphy #zoevan #bandtrees #jordan fisher #maria wirries #fluff #mine #my works

[nomanismyequal]

I am man and I am a fucking machine running higher than a stewardess wearing thigh highs in the mile club high as hell louder than fuck and set to maim and kill like a fucking whipperwhill willing to live and hoping you join me but hoping even more you wanna fight cuz I am liquid mercury dynamite like Jimmy Walker at the dentist and I’m an emcee cooler than Kermit the muppet man frog and my rainbow connection dope dealer sells sunshine in duffle bags and like LOVERBOYS MIKE RENO I AM LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT AND THIS KID IS HOTTER EVERY NIGHT THAN DIAMOND DAVID LEE ROTHS TEACHER WHO WANTS TO SHARPEN MY PENCIL LIKE A SHARPENING TOOL IN GRADE SCHOOL WITH TOO MANY SIZED JOLES AND LIKE LAYNE STAYLEY I AM THAT MAN IN YOUR BOX NO LONGER BURIED IN YOUR SHIT BECAUSE LIKE BRADLY NOWELL IT LOVING THAT I GOT BUT MY SANTERIA AUNT FUN MAGIC FOR MONKEYS AND JAN AND DEAN SURFIN CITY I RIDE WAVES ON THE BACKS OF SHARKS SURFING LIKE EDDIE VEDDER ON HIS OCEANS WHO I WISH WOULD HANG ALL TEN WITH MY SURFIN SAFARI OF BEACH BOY LITTLE DOUCE COUPE CRUISIN TO THE HITS AND SINGING EVERY SONG ON KEY AND MY BARITONE IS BUILT IN WITH A MEGAPHONE AND MY RADIO ANNOUNCER TIMBER BASS WILL RATTLE THE EYES IN YOUR EYES WITHOUT A FACE BILLY IDOLS REBEL YELL SCREAMING TRUTHFUL SHIT LIKE IM HAVING A FIT LIKE PHIL ANSELMO AND HE WAS FUCKING HOSTILE AND NOW IM A MADMAN WITH OZZY OSBOURNES BARKING AT THE MOON AND LIKE NEIL DIAMOND I GOT HOT AUGUST NIGHTS AND I AM SEPTEMBER MORN FOR LOVE ON THE ROCKS AND MY SWEET CAROLINE SWEET AS HOZIERS SWEET CHERRY WINE WHICH GIVE MEN CAVITIES FROM THOSE ANGELS BEING SO SUGARY SWEETENED IN ANTI SACCHARINE SUGAR CUBES FOLLOWING THE MONKIES RATHER THAN BEING THE BEATLES JUDY AND I LOVE ALL MUSIC LIKE BARRY MANNILOW AT THE COPACABANA WITH MANDY SINGING LOOKS LIKE WE MADE IT THROUGH THAT MISERABLY SAD WEEKEND IN NEW ENGLAND ALMOST MADE ME WRITE SONGS THAT SHOULD MAKE THE WHOLE WORLD CRY BECAUSE YOU STEAL THE LIGHT FROM THE DRIVE IN THEATERS OF EARTH LEAVING SONGS WITHGREAT HOLES EXCAVATED FOR PREPARATION OF TOWERS TO BE ERECTED AND YOU STOLE THE BLUEPRINTS FROM OUR DRAFTER LIKE A HOT IRON GRAFTER WITH METALLURGY IN MY BIOLOGICAL FORTRESS AND MY ULTRA VIOLET LIGHT IS SET TO GIVE YOU SUNBURN YOU HAVE NO COPPETONE TANNING BED EXPERIENCE WITN AND I CUT TEETH GETTING SUNBURNED FOR SUMMER FUN IN LAKE TAHOE SO IM USED TO THE HEAT AND IM BRINGING AN OVEN INTO YOUR OWN KITCHEN THAT HAS MUCH MORE HEAT THAN YOUR POLITICAL CORRECTNESS LIKE DONALD TRUMP SENDING TWEETS TO KOREA NORTHBOUND ON TRAINS OF THOUGHTS CLEARLY GONE OFF THE RAILS AND I DO NEVER RESIST ANYTHING AND THAT PERSISTING YOU POKING THIS DEMON DOG DAWGFATHER OF YOUR WARS IS SET TO SPILL AND I AIMS TO KILL AND I NEVER MISS A TARGET LIKE A SNIPER ONE MILE SHOT SERGEANT AND MESSING ME ROUND IS DUMBER THAN GIVING THAT RICKY GUY THE YOUNG BOY SENTENCED TO 18 IN LIFE I AM PISSED AND A WILDMAN LIKE SEBASTIAN BACH AND NIKKI SIXXS LOVE CHILD SPERM DONAR DELIVERY INTO PAMELA ANDERSONS SWEET VA J J...

I am man and I am a fucking machine running higher than a stewardess wearing thigh highs in the mile club high as hell louder than fuck and set to maim and kill like a fucking whipperwhill willing to live and hoping you join me but hoping even more you wanna fight cuz I am liquid mercury dynamite like Jimmy Walker at the dentist and I’m an emcee cooler than Kermit the muppet man frog and my rainbow connection dope dealer sells sunshine in duffle bags and like LOVERBOYS MIKE RENO I AM LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT AND THIS KID IS HOTTER EVERY NIGHT THAN DIAMOND DAVID LEE ROTHS TEACHER WHO WANTS TO SHARPEN MY PENCIL LIKE A SHARPENING TOOL IN GRADE SCHOOL WITH TOO MANY SIZED JOLES AND LIKE LAYNE STAYLEY I AM THAT MAN IN YOUR BOX NO LONGER BURIED IN YOUR SHIT BECAUSE LIKE BRADLY NOWELL IT LOVING THAT I GOT BUT MY SANTERIA AUNT FUN MAGIC FOR MONKEYS AND JAN AND DEAN SURFIN CITY I RIDE WAVES ON THE BACKS OF SHARKS SURFING LIKE EDDIE VEDDER ON HIS OCEANS WHO I WISH WOULD HANG ALL TEN WITH MY SURFIN SAFARI OF BEACH BOY LITTLE DOUCE COUPE CRUISIN TO THE HITS AND SINGING EVERY SONG ON KEY AND MY BARITONE IS BUILT IN WITH A MEGAPHONE AND MY RADIO ANNOUNCER TIMBER BASS WILL RATTLE THE EYES IN YOUR EYES WITHOUT A FACE BILLY IDOLS REBEL YELL SCREAMING TRUTHFUL SHIT LIKE IM HAVING A FIT LIKE PHIL ANSELMO AND HE WAS FUCKING HOSTILE AND NOW IM A MADMAN WITH OZZY OSBOURNES BARKING AT THE MOON AND LIKE NEIL DIAMOND I GOT HOT AUGUST NIGHTS AND I AM SEPTEMBER MORN FOR LOVE ON THE ROCKS AND MY SWEET CAROLINE SWEET AS HOZIERS SWEET CHERRY WINE WHICH GIVE MEN CAVITIES FROM THOSE ANGELS BEING SO SUGARY SWEETENED IN ANTI SACCHARINE SUGAR CUBES FOLLOWING THE MONKIES RATHER THAN BEING THE BEATLES JUDY AND I LOVE ALL MUSIC LIKE BARRY MANNILOW AT THE COPACABANA WITH MANDY SINGING LOOKS LIKE WE MADE IT THROUGH THAT MISERABLY SAD WEEKEND IN NEW ENGLAND ALMOST MADE ME WRITE SONGS THAT SHOULD MAKE THE WHOLE WORLD CRY BECAUSE YOU STEAL THE LIGHT FROM THE DRIVE IN THEATERS OF EARTH LEAVING SONGS WITHGREAT HOLES EXCAVATED FOR PREPARATION OF TOWERS TO BE ERECTED AND YOU STOLE THE BLUEPRINTS FROM OUR DRAFTER LIKE A HOT IRON GRAFTER WITH METALLURGY IN MY BIOLOGICAL FORTRESS AND MY ULTRA VIOLET LIGHT IS SET TO GIVE YOU SUNBURN YOU HAVE NO COPPETONE TANNING BED EXPERIENCE WITN AND I CUT TEETH GETTING SUNBURNED FOR SUMMER FUN IN LAKE TAHOE SO IM USED TO THE HEAT AND IM BRINGING AN OVEN INTO YOUR OWN KITCHEN THAT HAS MUCH MORE HEAT THAN YOUR POLITICAL CORRECTNESS LIKE DONALD TRUMP SENDING TWEETS TO KOREA NORTHBOUND ON TRAINS OF THOUGHTS CLEARLY GONE OFF THE RAILS AND I DO NEVER RESIST ANYTHING AND THAT PERSISTING YOU POKING THIS DEMON DOG DAWGFATHER OF YOUR WARS IS SET TO SPILL AND I AIMS TO KILL AND I NEVER MISS A TARGET LIKE A SNIPER ONE MILE SHOT SERGEANT AND MESSING ME ROUND IS DUMBER THAN GIVING THAT RICKY GUY THE YOUNG BOY SENTENCED TO 18 IN LIFE I AM PISSED AND A WILDMAN LIKE SEBASTIAN BACH AND NIKKI SIXXS LOVE CHILD SPERM DONAR DELIVERY INTO PAMELA ANDERSONS SWEET VA J J…

You gots nothing like me and you don’t even see that my own Physiology is supreme like a Taco Bell taco And my steak is beefy like an eighty year old eighties grandma screaming where’s YOUR BEEF BRUH??

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[unlockthelore]

One Second

Pretty late, but this was written for hananeneweek20. The prompt being: Valentines’ Day. Hope you guys enjoy it.

In Yashiro’s experience, Valentines Day had never been the best time for romance. Whether it was being rejected by one of her crushes to being bombarded as other girls or boys confessed to them whilst her own was left to the side. She simply had very little luck with romance and admittedly, it was a bit of a downer.

She was in the springtime of her youth, at a point in her life where fairy tale romances were everything — but it felt as if none of it was ever coming true. For the umpteenth time, she sighed and bumped her head against her crossed arms, ignoring the breezy chatter of her classmates exchanging gifts or talking about their significant others and other topics that were of no use to her with her plight.

There were the select few who were more taken with hanging out with their friends or loved ones. And while the thought had crossed Yashiro’s mind that she could go home and be with her hamster, Black Canyon, it would be nice to have someone give her something today or to be with someone romantically.

Drumming her fingers against the desk, Yashiro sighed and propped her chin up on her arms, staring listlessly out the window. The pad of her thumb rubbed against the underside of her ring finger, vaguely recalling the strings that wound around them.

Connections.

She could still feel them as if they were there but the invisible strings were no longer discernible to her eyes. Opening and closing her hand, she couldn’t feel their tug or see those who they connected to. The network of connections that she had in her classroom alone were a myriad of colors but now, they were gone.

Just because a bond can’t be seen doesn’t mean that it isn’t there.

She sat upright as Hanako’s words rung through her mind along with his smile, upside down but reassuring nonetheless.

“Nene-chan!”

Looking toward the doorway, Yashiro smiled as Aoi walked over with her hand raised in a friendly wave. There wasn’t a bit of chocolate to be seen on her and out of everything, that was the most confusing part of the day. Aoi was popular, the number one girl that everyone wanted to date, so it was unbelievable that she wouldn’t have received a single thing.

“Something wrong?” Aoi asked, leaning against Yashiro’s desk, her hands clasped behind her back.

“We-Well…” Yashiro stammered with a sheepish smile, unsure of how to ask this without sounding conceited or bitter. Dropping her gaze to her desk and fidgeting her fingers, she tried to form the words but nothing would come out.

A soft tap on the top of her desk caught her attention, and she pushed her thoughts aside as she peered at a white heart-shaped box adorned with a rainbow-colored ribbon sitting in the center of the wooden surface. Its glossy lid reflecting her own stricken expression.

“I-is this one of yours, Aoi?” Yashiro asked, looking up at her.

Aoi giggled softly, the back of her hand covering her mouth and the heat rose to Yashiro’s cheeks as Aoi reached out to poke the tip of her nose. “Of course not, Nene-chan,” she said sweetly, pulling her hand away. “It’s yours.”

“Mine? From..” Glancing at the surface and around the box’s sides, there was no note. And it had come out of nowhere.

“Me,” said Aoi.

Yashiro looked up at her and blinked slowly. “… You?”

“Mhm.”

It then dawned on her that a hushed silence had fallen over the room and she glanced aside, several wandering gazes centered on them while others were glued to the trembling form of Aoi Akane. The bespectacled boy stood beside Yamabuki Lemon who was keeping a discrete hold on the back of his sweater so that he wouldn’t run over.

Glaring daggers at Yashiro as she picked up the box of chocolates and slowly undid the ribbon, opening it up. There was a colorful assortment of chocolates there, some decorated while others were plain, but they all were shaped like rabbits.

In fact, they even looked a bit like the Mokke. Yashiro felt the color draining from her face and she glanced up at Aoi. A pang of hurt shooting through her chest at her friend’s crescent fallen expression, her hands worrying as she looked between Yashiro and the chocolates.

“Sorry, Nene-chan, do you not like them?”

“Wh—“

An outraged cry from Akane was quickly muffled by Yamabuki and Yashiro waved her hands quickly. “No no no, I love them, Aoi! I just think the shape is really familiar.”

Scarily familiar actually.

“Oh, it’s actually inspired by this one rumor that I heard not too long ago, do you want to hear it?”

Seeing an opening, Yashiro perked up immediately. “Of course!”

Chatter in the classroom picked up shortly after, interest waning and Yamabuki’s interference in keeping Akane from running over led both boys outside to the courtyard into a mock battle of sorts. Sitting by the window and talking about the rabbit-like thieves, Yashiro felt her mood steadily improving. Although she was quite touched that Aoi thought of her enough to want to make chocolates for her, there was a bittersweet taste on her tongue.

She hadn’t thought to do the same.

Valentines Day was supposed to be her time to shine, where the prince of her dreams or at least a boy that was desperate enough to want to be with her instead of being alone would appear. Though, how low were her standards to want something like that? Propping her arm up, she rested her chin in hand and gazed at Aoi as she went on about the Mokke rumor.

Wouldn’t it have been better to be around someone that wanted to be with her?

Did she really need love to be returned if nothing would come from it?

Was she that desperate?

The entity inside of the drawer doesn’t show you whether someone likes you or not, it shows you the bond that you have with another person.

Musubi no Kami or at least one of the god’s attendants had shown her that she wasn’t alone. There were people that cared for her and although it wasn’t romantic, they still cared. Aoi went out of her way to make chocolates for her. Akane and Yamabuki were good friends with her, and so was Kou. Minamoto-senpai was still a stranger to her, no matter how much she idolized him. It was difficult to get close to him and ease her bias aside.

But the others were different.

Did she really need the love of one person when she had them?

There was Aoi, Akane, Yamabuki, Kou, Tsuchigomori-sensei, Yako-san, the Mokke —

And Hanako-kun.

Yashiro sucked in a sharp breath and curled her fingers into a fist, pressing them close to her lips. Her vision was swimming for a split second. How could she forget?

“Nene-chan..?” Aoi asked, her head tipped to one side and eyes darkened with worry. “What’s wrong?”

Her heart stammered in a beat. Fist trembling as she forced it down to her lap and pressed her lips together in a thin line. How could she even be thinking about feeling sorry for herself when she had all of them?

“Nene—“

“Aoi.”

Aoi gasped softly at the call of her name, meeting Yashiro’s eyes, and though Yashiro wasn’t sure of the look that she was wearing — she knew what she wanted.

“Could you go with me to speak to Tsuchigomori-sensei about using the Home Ec room? There’s something that I really want to do,” Yashiro bowed her head a bit, staring at her hands, her face feeling warm.

The tips of her ears practically burning when she felt a gentle touch along the curve of her jaw, slowly tilting her head up. Aoi’s violet eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, giving a curt nod.

“Of course.”

Tsuchigomori-sensei seemed to expect them when they came into the faculty office and his permission was given without a backward glance. He even chuckled softly, the deep timbre of his far more intimidating side sending a shiver down Yashiro’s spine as she thought back to his threat of spilling her secrets over the PA system.

“Yashiro, Akane,” he called, the curve of his smile visible over his shoulder. “Make sure they’re good and clean up after you’re done, alright?”

Aoi’s affirmation was heartfelt while Yashiro’s was a highpitched affirmative before she was pulling Aoi down the hall at a breakneck pace. Hanako would just have to forgive her for being a little late to her duties —

Wait, Hanako!

Skidding to a stop in front of the Home Ec room, she turned to Aoi and clasped her hands together. “I’m sorry, Aoi, I have to go talk to someone so can we—“

“Slow down, Nene-chan,” Aoi waved her hand dismissively, taking Yashiro’s bag from her hand and shouldering it aside her own. “We still have to buy the ingredients to make the chocolates, you know.”

Ah, she had forgotten that, hadn’t she?

“H—How did you know that I wanted to make chocolates?” Yashiro took a half-step backward, truly surprised by Aoi’s perception, trying to hide her mortification at forgetting the most important thing.

“Mm, lucky guess? Or maybe because you were muttering about chocolate and doughnuts..?” Aoi shooed her away with a soft giggle. “Go go, I’ll buy everything and call you, okay?.”

“W-Wait, not everything, I—“

“It’s alright,” Aoi’s sing-song voice calmed Yashiro’s racing heart as Aoi poked the tip of her nose. “As long as I get chocolates too, okay?”

Yashiro brightened up and nodded. “It’s a promise!” She shouted over her shoulder as she turned on her heel and ran, hurrying to the old building’s third floor.

The door slammed open as she stumbled inside. “Hanako-kun! … Eh? W-What are you all doing?”

She wasn’t sure what was more unusual. Kou and Hanako crouched side by side with a pile of candy and other trinkets, including Kou’s traffic safety earring, in front of them or the Mokke that were currently pushing around cards with their ears(?). At least six sets of eyes, the two boys and four Mokke turned to her at the interruption to what she was guessing was a card game?

One that Hanako and Kou might have been losing at that.

“Oho, good timing Yashiro!” Hanako cheered, throwing his cards in the air startling both the Mokke and Kou who went very pale and looked between Hanako and Yashiro with a panicked expression. “The kid wanted to give y—“

Kou slapped his own cards down to the floor and yelled loudly, “I fold!”, effectively drowning out everything that Hanako tried to say.

The Mokke, Hanako and Yashiro stared at the blond as he heaved a sigh then pushed the pile of objects toward them although he snatched his earring at the last second. Feeling cheated out of their winnings, the Mokke hopped around like mad, forming a circle around Kou and slowly advancing on him.

“Looks like you made them mad,” Hanako cooed, floating closer to Yashiro with a snickering grin.

Yashiro wrapped her arms around herself and averted his gaze as he lingered by her side. The cold radiating off of him in waves. Goosebumps rose on her skin as she raked her nails against them, trying to keep it from showing. A soft curious hum and the cold intensified as Hanako leant closer, his gaze drifting from her face to her arms.

“Yashi—“

“Alright, alright, here!” Kou cried as the Mokke’s chanting reached a fever pitch, and he handed them a yellow box tied with a blue ribbon, lowering his head in defeat as they cheered and ran off with their earnings. Likely to cause mischief elsewhere but leaving behind a pouting boy.

Yashiro sighed, grateful for the distraction, as she brushed off Hanako’s half-baked inquiry with a faint smile then walked over to crouch by Kou. “It’s alright, Kou-kun. I’m sure that whoever gave you those chocolates would understand,” she reassured, gently petting his head.

He looked up at her with tear-glazed blue eyes, his lower lip quivering. “Senpai..”

“Actually,” Hanako chimed in, floating near them, effectively worming his way between them as he filled Yashiro’s vision with a grin. Her heart skipped a beat the closer he got, his hand cupped around the side of his mouth, voice lowered as he whispered. “Those chocolates were for—“

“Aaaaah!” Kou yelled, pressing his hands to his ears. “Senpai came for something, right? What is it? W-What’s wrong, Senpai?!”

Yashiro’s gaze flicked between them as their bickering started and she wondered for the first time if either of them even needed sugar. Hanako was a ghost, so he couldn’t get a sugar rush, could he? But Kou seemed on edge. She sighed softly and shrugged half-heartedly. It was the thought that counted after all.

“I was just wondering… since today is Valentines, would you both want chocolates?”

Their bickering died almost immediately and the ensuing silence was so daunting that Yashiro was hard pressed not to take a step back. Both boys staring up at her with widened eyes and stricken expressions of disbelief. Time seemed to slow to a crawl and she poked her fingers together, trying to find a way to unfreeze them.

“I-It won’t just be you two, there’ll be Aoi, Akane-kun, Yamabuki-kun, Tsuchigomori-sensei, Yako-san, a-a lot of people…”

Hanako was the first to recover and his stricken expression shifted into one of quiet contemplation, his eyes narrowing and seeming more golden than orange. Sweeping over her appraisingly and lingering on her own before he rose to his feet, brushing aside Kou’s hands and returning to the window ledge, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Don’t want any.”

Yashiro didn’t expect the cold words to strike her so quickly. What did that even mean? Hanako seemed to be a fan of sweets especially the ones gifted to him from the Mokke. She never knew him to have an aversion to them before, so why…?

Stunned into silence, she wasn’t sure what to say but Kou recovered from his shock, scrambling to his feet and turning on Hanako with an outstretched hand. “Oi! What do you mean you don’t want them? Chocolates from Senpai— I mean — chocolates from anyone on Valentines day is a gift, y’know!?”

“Exactly. And I don’t want it,” Hanako said with a slight shrug. Another stab going through Yashiro’s chest.

Kou took in a deep breath and his cheeks were beginning to darken pink, a sure sign that he was raring for a fight. Yashiro pressed her hand to her chest and took a step forward, avoiding the cards on the floor and laying her hand gently on Kou’s arm. All the fight left him immediately and he watched as she walked over to stand a few inches away from Hanako. With his back to her, and the evening sunlight slanting through the mosaic window — it was easy to see his translucent form.

To see that he wasn’t human at all.

Perhaps his tastes had changed since the time that he died. And from what she saw from Tsuchigomori-sensei’s yorishiro, his school life might not have been the best.

I’ve never had a girl tell me she likes me before.

Letting her hand fall to her side in a closed fist, Yashiro took a deep breath then opened her mouth.

“What do you want then, Hanako-kun?”

Hanako’s head tipped to one side before he turned to look over his shoulder, eyebrow arched and sunset-colored eyes wide.

“What do I want?” He echoed back as if the question was spoken in some foreign language he didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”

“Chocolates aren’t the only thing exchanged today,” Yashiro explained, ignoring the choked gasp from Kou although she felt her cheeks reddening at the implication. “If you want a different sort of gift, then just let me know. I’m sure I can do it.”

“Yashiro…” Hanako turned to face her, the sunlight haloing him in a soft golden-white hue, his translucent body solidifying as he took a few steps forward. “You…”

His shoes came to rest in front of hers, and she had to lean back to look him in the eye. Kou’s hitched breath mirroring her own as Hanako leant down with half-lidded eyes. Yashiro’s body, numbed to the cold, pricked with warmth as he closed his eyes. W-Wait, wasn’t this moving too fast? All she wanted to know was what gift he wanted but what if..

Was he going to ki—

Closing her eyes tightly to cancel the thought out, she didn’t expect to hear him sniffing.

“Eh?” She opened her eyes, taking a half-step backward as Hanako sniffed the air around her. “What are you doing, Hanako-kun?”

“Mm.. Trying to figure this out,” he tapped his finger against his chin then glanced at her slyly. “You didn’t get many chocolates, did you?”

The observation shot her directly in the heart and she shuddered, averting her gaze. “W-Well..”

“I’m sure Senpai got plenty of chocolates!” Kou blurted out, and despite his best effort, he only made her feel worse. Her head hanging and he realized belatedly his mistake but also the harsh reality. “… W-Wait, not a single one? Really?”

Did he really have to add the really, she thought wearily. “Well, I got chocolates from Aoi… but they were friend chocolates. It’s different..” She muttered softly, scratching at her cheek.

“Is it any less important?”

Hanako’s voice cut through with the sharpness of a knife and Nene’s gaze snapped back to him. With his hat tipped over upturned eyes reminding her of half moons, he looked different. The usual smile that he wore was thinned and almost tight at the corners. Red flags bloomed everywhere in her mind and she wondered if she said something odd, scratching her cheek and curling her fingers in the hem of her dress. From the corner of her eye, Kou straightened up, seemingly noticing the change in the mood.

“Are friend chocolates any less important than those from a lover?” Hanako asked, his voice increasingly patient despite her lack of a response. Though Yashiro wasn’t sure what to say to this. “Is doing a gesture for a friend lesser than what you’d do for a lover?”

“Well, no…” Yashiro muttered, almost in wonder. What was she supposed to do with this sort of atmosphere? Glancing at Kou for help, she found none as the blond peered at Hanako a bit closer then leant back with a hum. He gave her a slight smile and nodded his head toward Hanako, crossing his arms behind his head as he averted his gaze to the mirror. What was that supposed mean?

“Ya - shi - ro~”

The sudden cold chill and whisper by her ear made her squeak and she stepped aside, noticing Hanako standing right beside her, peering at her from the corner of his eye beneath the brim of his hat.

“It’s just different,” Yashiro said lamely, poking her fingers together, her cheeks burning.

Hanako hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head to one side. “How so?”

Yashiro wasn’t sure what to say. When did this turn into an interrogation? Wasn’t it enough to just want to give someone chocolates because of the connection that they had? And even then, the difference between friends and lovers was pretty stark wasn’t it. Her face felt warm and she shuffled her feet.

“Well, when you’re in love, it’s like… you’re with someone that understands you and wants to do things with you like going to the movies or on dates or…” Her voice trailed off as she thought of the pressure of his lips against her cheek, soft yet cold, but no less lovely.

“And you can’t do that with friends?” Hanako muttered, his voice close enough to her ear that he might have been speaking in her head. Belatedly she realized it was because he was close and she squeaked, stepping aside. Kou, who’d been quiet up til then, startling at the closeness and threw his arm out in front of her.

“O-Oi Hanako, I know what point you’re trying to make, but don’t startle senpai!”

Yashiro blinked slowly, glancing up at Kou. She knew what point he was trying to make? What did that mean?

Hanako chuckled softly, flicking up the brim of his hat. “Yashiro,” he called knowingly, tilting his head. “You asked me what I wanted.” With an outstretched hand, he pointed directly at her and Yashiro clutched the hem of her dress tighter. “So, that’s that! I’ll excuse you from your duty for today, as long as you think on that question…” He brought his finger back and rested it at the curve of his chin, his half-moon eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled mischievously. “Then tell me.”

With that, he crossed his arms behind his head and walked past them humming an unfamiliar tune. Yashiro and Kou following him with their eyes before looking up at one another then back.

“That’s all, Hanako-kun?” Yashiro managed to ask as he pulled the door open.

Sparing a glance over his shoulder, Hanako smiled then vanished from sight.

Kou sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “What was that about, senpai?”

“I don’t know…” Yashiro tapped her forefingers together, pouting slightly as she leveled him with a flat look. “And what did you mean by understanding his point?”

“Hrk! Ahaha… “ Kou smiled sheepishly, inching away from her side. “W-Well, you know.. Uhm..” He glanced around the bathroom, eyeing the mirror for a moment longer before clapping his hands together. “Right! Teru-nii, I-I mean, Minamoto-senpai needed me so I should go help him.”

“Wait, Kou—“

“Bye bye!” Kou shouted, practically tripping over his feet as he left in a hurry. His blond hair barely visible as he beat around the corner, Yashiro peering around the doorway at him as he vanished from sight.

A soft chime from her pocket turned her attention to her phone. Aoi’s number popping up with a message that she got everything although the rabbit emoticon she used reminded Yashiro that the Mokke were around and they were very partial to sweets. She tucked her phone away, trying to push the odd request from Hanako to the back of her mind as she hurried back to the Home Ec room.

Though she couldn’t help but wonder what he meant. With the look in his eyes, and that smile, what did it all mean? She often found herself flustered by his voice and his teasing, his backhanded way of complimenting or messing with her. But right then, it felt as if he was trying to tell her something. And he even seemed troubled despite his smile.

What did that even mean?

Sliding the door open, Yashiro was fairly surprised to see that Aoi wasn’t the only one there. Akane and Yamabuki had also joined their merry little band and Yashiro smiled wide.

“Akane-kun and Yamabuki-kun said that they wanted to help,” Aoi told Yashiro as she walked over. “Though Akane-kun has been talking about making chocolates for someone, I wonder who..”

Looking at the squabbling boys and the not so subtle looks Akane was giving Aoi, Yashiro was certain that she knew who the chocolates were for. And there was no doubt I her mind that Aoi didn’t know.

“Nene-chan,” Aoi whispered, leaning closer to her. “Were you upset because you didn’t receive chocolates from anyone you liked?”

Yashiro stiffened up, glancing at Aoi then down at her hands. “Well…” She couldn’t tell her that was spot on because that would make Aoi feel like her chocolates were lesser. But if she didn’t, then she was lying which would’ve been worse. As if sensing her mental panicking, Aoi’s hand rested on her shoulder and squeezed lightly.

“Nene-chan,” she mutters softly, worry piercing through Yashiro’s guard.

“Y-Yeah,” Yashiro admitted reluctantly, hanging her head as she poked her fingers together. “I was…”

The sound of Yamabuki and Akane’s bickering in the background filled the silence between them.

Aoi let out a quiet sigh. “What kind of love do you want, Nene-chan?”

“Kind of love?” Yashiro asks, lifting her head and peeking at Aoi. “What do you mean…?”

It almost sounded like the question that Hanako asked her but phrased differently. In an even more confusing what.

“There’s all kinds of love, you know, and one isn’t more important than the other…” Aoi explains, giggling softly when she saw the confusion on Yashiro’s face. “Put it this way…” She hooked her elbow in the crook of Yashiro’s own and turned them toward Yamabuki and Akane, pointing toward the latter while whispering close to Yashiro’s ear. “If I started dating Akane-kun, and I loved him a lot, would that mean that he’s more important to me than you?”

“Eh?” Yashiro hesitated, looking from Aoi’s patient smile to Akane who was currently frozen and looking back at them with wide eyes. Yamabuki poking at his cheek to try and spur him into movement. “W-Well… No.”

“Good, because we’re childhood friends and even then, I like him just as much as I like you.”

A loud thud coupled with a soft cry as Akane’s head dropped to the tabletop, his dreams of Aoi liking him back likely shattered for the time being. Yashiro laughed nervously, averting her gaze back to Aoi who didn’t seem to notice at all or if she had wasn’t speaking on it.

“Receiving chocolates from me isn’t the same as receiving them from someone who likes you like that, but I still like you,” Aoi explained, wrapping her arms around Yashiro’s shoulders and hugging her close, their cheeks pressing and rubbing together. Yashiro tried not to laugh from how Aoi’s hair tickled her. “Valentines Day isn’t about romance, it’s about knowing someone cares and loves you for you, Nene-chan.”

Is it any less important?

Yashiro didn’t answer. She curled her fingers in the hem of her dress and looked at Aoi with a mixture of guilt and awe. Hanako’s face in her mind, Kou’s words, the strings —

‘“I know you want a fairy tale ending,” Aoi gently brushed her fingers against Yashiro’s cheek as she left her side. “But you deserve someone who loves you..” She flashes a smile over her shoulder. “And you have plenty of people who do.”

Yashiro’s heart skipped a beat, hammering in her chest hard enough that it might’ve escaped her ribs if she wasn’t careful. Aoi starting to pull out all that they needed to make chocolates, looked up when she felt a hand curl in her sleeve and tug lightly.

“Aoi…”

“Hm?”

“Is it bad… wanting a fairy tale ending?”

Aoi didn’t say anything for a moment then carefully, she laid her hand on Yashiro’s and squeezed. “Only when you hurt yourself to try and have it,” she finally said, squeezing her hand then letting go. “You’re perfect in your own way, Nene-chan. And I pray you find someone who can see that too.”

Making chocolates was easy and fun with Yamabuki and Akane’s antics, the proposals that were graded harshly by Aoi, and the number of failed chocolates they ate. Tying the parcels with colorful ribbons, Yashiro handed Yamabuki and Akane theirs while giving Aoi her own with a hug. Seeing them off at the gate, she smiled down at the remaining boxes and hurried off to bring them to who they belonged.

Yako was easy enough to find on her steps and she took the chocolates with a huff. Not even biting Yashiro’s hand when she reached out to ruffle her hair.

Kou was next, and his eyes widened when the chocolates touched his fingers. His cheeks were bright pink and he grinned widely while his older brother flashed her a smile, waving politely from behind him. Yashiro clutched her school bag to her chest and smiled shyly in return, turning away.

“Senpai!” Kou called after her, hanging out of the doorway as she walked down the corridor.

“Hm?”

“Uhm… well, those chocolates from before..” He glanced back inside of the student council room before stepping out and closing the door behind him. His hand tightening against the door handle until it creaked, slowly pulling away.

Yashiro wasn’t sure what to think of Kou’s downcast eyes and the sharp tinge of pink powdering across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He fidgeted, mouth opening and closing before a sharp inhale and an upward jerk of the head stunned her into silence.

“Those chocolates from before,” he began loudly, his voice quieting as he searched her gaze. “Were for you.”

“... Really..?” Yashiro said softly, disbelief in widened eyes as she turned to face him.

“You’re always trying hard and even though you can be clumsy and a little forgetful and idealistic — I like...” Kou inhaled sharply, cutting off his words, and Yashiro dared not to take a breath. Quietly urging him to go on. “everything about you. I..” he pressed his lips together, clenching his fist. “I’m glad that I got to know you and I’m always on your side.. as your friend.”

Yashiro stared at him. One second stretching into two, then two into a minute and a minute into who knew how long. He fidgeted and blushed, likely flustered beyond belief and seemed to wither under the heavy quiet.

“Kou-kun..”

“Y-Yes?!”

So that’s what Hanako meant. She smiled softly, shifting her bag to one arm and scratching her cheek.

“You don’t mind.. about my legs?”

Kou blinked at her then tilted his head. “Why would I?”

Yashiro smiled, walking closer to lay her hand on Kou’s shoulder. He stiffened up beneath her touch, but melted as she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, hugging him close.

“Thank you, Kou-kun..”

“For what?”

She pulled away and poked his cheek, lightly wiggling her finger making him mumble indignantly. It was a little cute.

“Being you.”

Pulling her hand away, she shouldered her bag and stepped back, waving to him as she walked down the hall.

“U-Uhm.. senpai!”

Looking back at him, Yashiro tilted her head. “Hm?”

“Uh... g-good luck answering Hanako’s question!”

He really was too kind for his own good. Yashiro pumped her fist in the air, giggling as Kou mimicked her. As she turned and ran down the hall, it felt as if she was slugging through molasses. Her feet heavy with every step and heart hammering, searching the halls, peering in the bathroom and looking around for where he could be. The Mokke, playing with their haul, pointed her to the rooftop and the steps were daunting. Staring up them, she swallowed thickly.

What if it was the wrong answer?

What if she hurt him?

But what if what he was trying to tell her was that —

He teased her about her legs. He laughed with her. He protected her. He was there for her as her friend but she was always —

It was so frustrating.

Climbing the steps one after another, pushing open the door, her eyes softened at the sight of an evening sky dappled with violets, orange and gold. Hanako standing on the railing with his hands clasped behind his back, untouched not only by time but the elements. A cool breeze whipping Yashiro’s hair, obscuring her view of him, but he didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

And why would he be? As cold as he was and as cold as he could be.

She swallowed, hugging her bag closer to her and pressing her lips in a firm line, shaking her head defiantly. No, she was going to answer his question and prove —

Prove what, exactly?

That she changed was the first thought that came to mind.

That she valued him just as much as she would anyone else.

That even though she might fall in love someday, he would still be important to her.

“There you are,” Hanako said cheerily, peering over his shoulder with a mirthless grin. “Sure took you awhile, Yashiro.”

A number of responses weighed heavily on her tongue and each one vied for a place in this silence punctuated by the sounds of the city, students in their extracurricular activities, the distant sound of birdsong, chirping insects, and the pounding of her heart.

“Hanako-kun,” she started, her mouth feeling dry and tongue brushing along her lower lip before she tucked it between her teeth. “You know… being with you, spending time with you…”

She wasn’t sure if she was conveying this well but Hanako was still there so she must have been doing something right. Even so, it was a little embarrassing talking about her feelings like this.

“It won’t change even if I change,” she blurted out, pressing her hands to her stomach to try and stifle the fluttering. “I’ll always cherish this and it’ll mean something.”

How could it not? Ever since she met Hanako, her world seemed to open up more and more. There were plenty of things that were terrifying and ones that scared her witless. Hanako was bereft with secrets, some so deep and imposing that she was afraid to unearth them. But she liked him — enough to stay even when she was scared.

“Even if I fall in love…” Her initial wish came to mind, the boy with sunset eyes who held her hands in an empty classroom filled with the reddened twilight sunrays, the one who started everything. “You’ll always matter to me.”

Twisting her hands in her dress, she hesitantly looked up and hunched her shoulders. “I-Is that okay?” she asked, gazing up at him as he stared back at her impassively. His grinning smile shifting into a thoughtful one, still betraying the thoughts he might have had. Nervousness ran through her and the courage she mustered drained away, embarrassment making her cheeks warm as she fumbled with her bag for something to fill the quiet.

“And I…” She pushed aside her literature notebook, finding the colorful bag adorned with rabbits and tied off with an orange ribbon, pulling it out and settling it in her hands. A cold chill ran down her spine and slowly, she raised her head, meeting his eyes as he stood before her with his hands behind his back and eyebrow raised. Gazing at her curiously with that childish innocence that his eyes betrayed. “Made you chocolates anyway…”

Hanako leaned closer and Yashiro stiffened up, watching as he analyzed the chocolates with a drawn out hum. “They’re shaped like doughnuts,” he stated plainly.

She blinked once then twice, glancing down at the chocolates. “Do you like them?” she asked quietly, holding the bag out to him. “I know that you said you didn’t want any but everyone should get something on Valentines’ Day to… uhm…”

“Uhm..?” Hanako repeated, tilting his head.

“Know someone… cares.”

Her face was burning the longer Hanako stared at her and the silence was drawn out. Then all at once, it broke with one of his trademark laughs that both irritated and warmed her heart.

“W-What’s so funny, Hanako-kun?”

“Well, I feel a little bad,” he said with a snicker. “I didn’t make you any chocolates at all.”

“W—”

“So I guess we’ll just have to share these, hm?” He plucked the bag from her hands, drifting back over to the railing and sitting down. His back facing her as he rummaged through, taking one of the doughnut shaped chocolates and popping it in his mouth.

“Share…?”

“Mhm. If we share, it’s like I’m giving chocolates to you. A gift to me is a gift to you,” he waved his finger back and forth in the air as he explained, smiling at her over his shoulder. “Get it?”

Giving chocolates. A gift from her is one to him. Because she cared — because he cares.

Yashiro giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. Hanako’s eyes widening as he turned around, straddling the railing with the bag of chocolates cradled in his hand, lips pressed in a pout.

“What’s so funny, Yashiro?”

“Hanako-kun… you’re not very honest, are you?”

Hanako’s eyes widened, his cheeks warming scarlet and he huffed. “Hey, what do you mean?”

Yashiro continued laughing even as he drifted over, poking at her shoulder and her cheek, badgering for what she meant as he clung to her. Dipping her hand into the bag of chocolates, she pulled one out and popped it in his mouth. Delighting in his wide-eyed and flustered expression, her own lips curving into a smile.

“Happy Valentines’ Day, Hanako-kun. Thank you...”

#toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shounen hanako kun #hanako x yashiro #amane yugi #yashiro nene #fanfiction #my fanfiction

[space-------kid]

can’t keep my hands (off you).

Anime/Manga: One Punch Man Pairing: Garou/fem!Reader Additional pairing/characters: platonic Metal Bat/fem!Reader, Zenko, mentions of other heroes such as Saitama, Watchdog Man, etc. Genre: Romance, comedy Warning: Absolute silliness. Language – Garou and reader both ate rainbows for breakfast. Dumbassery. Teeth-rotting fluff, maybe? Reader is hella strong like Saitama. Half-assed spice because you’re good at cockblocking Garou despite being low-key thirsty for him. And LOTS of dumbassery from the reader, most probably. Additional tag: Dream-based fic, canon-divergent, Garou is horny af A/N: This is supposed to be a lengthy one-shot, but I’m a dumbass who can’t keep my word so the supposedly one-shot isn’t a one shot anymore.  Now I have to worry how I should properly divide all those parts (I mean, they’re already divided, but–) 😅 Happy New Year! *snicker*

You and Badd go out. No, it’s not a date.

Summary:

Your life had its general ups and downs, pros and cons, the good and the bad.

You were admittedly a coward and afraid of being targeted by people for it. Following the advice of your (best) friend you trained hard, like, FUCKING hard, and now you’re blessedly, utterly strong you can take down enemies with just one hit. A good thing, really. Can’t let any bad guy harass you or something.

But-

You were probably cursed with the biggest, baddest of luck. Not only were monsters chasing you, suddenly there was this fucking hot bastard weirdo who kept on calling himself the Hero Hunter. “I’m not a hero, goddamn it!”

i. and ii. | iii. and iv. | v. |[more to be added]

“i can’t keep my

hands

off…!”

- can’t keep my hands off you/simple plan

vi.

You quit the fast-food industry when the place you were working at was demolished by a monster.

You wondered why those blasted creeps kept coming out one after the other, and the rate of their appearances increased after that near-alien invasion a few weeks ago.

Badd sat beside you on the wooden bench at a park, metal bat resting on his shoulder. He was quietly sipping on the bubble tea you bought for him, chewing on the straw sometimes while he listened to you talk about your week.

“So you beat it after trashing your workplace, huh,” Badd casually commented while munching on the chewy pearls on his drink. “Did the branch manager give you an incentive or something?”

“Yeah,” you replied glumly. “But I feel kinda guilty since I think I was the reason why our place got destroyed, though. Maybe that monster was chasing me, and…” you ended your story with a feeble shrug.

Slight pain bloomed on your left cheek when Badd poked you a little hard with a finger.

“Or maybe it’s not,” he told you sternly, but the effect was dampened by the straw sticking out of his mouth. “C’mon, [Name]. Just because you’re scared of monsters doesn’t mean that all of them are out for yer blood. Sometimes, you just may be at the wrong place at the wrong time. But that’s why you trained to get strong, right? And look at you now, beating up the monsters you’re so scared of.”

Emboldened by his comment, you nodded in response and laid your head on his unoccupied shoulder. He placed his head on top of yours in response as he stifled a bored yawn.

“’M still glad that you’re safe, yanno. Zenko would’ve killed me for not being the hero to arrive on scene,” Badd remarked, sounding a little peeved at the thought of the pro-hero that disposed the monster’s lackeys surrounding the restaurant you previously worked at.

You frowned, already catching on and agreeing with his thoughts. You could still feel irritation rising in your gut at the memory of Amai Mask flashing you that sickly sweet smile of his while he rescued you and your workmates from the rest of the Mysterious Beings that attacked. Idol or not your dislike for the guy was clear as day, something you and Badd shared but would never tell Zenko. She was a huge fan of Amai Mask, and you and your best friend wouldn’t dare make an enemy out of her by telling her of your shared hostility towards the man.

“It would’ve been nice if it was my favourite hero who came to save the day,” you mumbled.

Badd let out a proud huff at your comment. “Don’t worry, [Name]. I’ll back you up next time so I can finally see how you-“

“Too bad Watchdog Man only looks after Q City,” you interjected, smirking.

Badd slung an arm around your shoulders and pulled on your hair in retaliation.

“Ow!"

“Tell me I’m not your favourite anymore and I will toss you in the river, dumbass!” he told you indignantly, spurring you to laugh at him.

“I’m kidding, sheesh! No need to get your bontan in a twist. Silly Metal Bat.”

Your discussion soon crossed his job as a hero. You already knew from the beginning that your best friend was a trouble kid at school even though you went at different ones, but knowing him as the best older brother to Zenko and a supportive friend to you, you couldn’t be any prouder at the dedication he showed in doing his hero work. Badd may act like a total delinquent, but you knew that he was a kind softie through and through.

Your best friend relayed to you the basics: From killing monsters the lower-ranking heroes couldn’t defeat and doing the assignments he was given to complaining about how the H. A. began handling things after A-City got wiped out because of that near-alien invasion thing. You tried your best not to laugh at the predicament Badd might soon find himself in when he grumbled about the possibility of being assigned as an executive’s bodyguard one of these days.

Man, you sure were glad that you kept on telling him no despite his best efforts on roping you into becoming a hero.

However, you still couldn’t help but feel worried for Badd. You knew he was terribly strong and that he could look after himself more than you’d expect, but even you would be a hypocrite to think that none was stronger than him sans his fellow S-Class.

Badd told you once that he could take care of a Dragon-level monster. You knew he could, you believed in him with all your heart.

But what if he would come face to face with a threat that might possibly be the worst match for him?

That was exactly what you told him, anxiety furrowing your brows.

The S-Class hero gazed at you with a reassuring smile, his usual confidence replaced by gratitude for being worried and looking out for him.

“I’d still beat their asses, [Name]!” Badd declared while ruffling your already messy [length] hair.

You returned his smile.

“I know you’re already strong, [Name], but I just gotta tell ya,” he said, turning serious. “Be careful, alright? More so now that you live alone and away from us. Also, there’s this arrogant bastard who roams around and beats up heroes. Calls himself the ‘Hero Hunter’.”

You straightened in your seat at the mention of the title and shot Badd a wide-eyed look. “Hero Hunter?”

He nodded. “The guys at the Association told me about it after Tank Top Master and his flunkies as well as that C-Class rank 1 got pummelled by that freak.”

Perhaps he was so used to seeing you look so frightened, but Badd didn’t notice the way you shuffled awkwardly beside him.

“D-Did… Did they t-tell you what he looks like?”

“Well, I didn’t wanna look at the picture they offered me, but when I was told that he was Silverfang’s former student it got me curious, you know?”

As Badd described what the so-called Hero Hunter looked like, you felt faint. What the hell were you doing, avoiding watching the news for weeks because all you ever see on the news were monster attacks and discussions about the aliens who obliterated A-City? Avoiding the media altogether? Oh, god, have you really been living under a rock since you moved out of your childhood home to miss something like this?

Badd’s description of the Hero Hunter fit a certain someone to a T.

Your recent unwanted visitor was-?

Not only were you an utter idiot, you seemed to also becoming rather forgetful. Hadn’t Garou called himself the Hero Hunter the very first time you met?

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

Your new friend – because with all that messing around you two were sure past being acquaintances now – was the fucking Hero Hunter. A wanted criminal.

Badd was oblivious with your internal struggles and excused himself when his phone rang.

God. What were you going to do? Tell Badd?

Oh, god.

You never dreamed of going to jail.

---

to be continued

#garou x reader #platonic metal bat x reader #garou #garou the hero hunter #garou the human monster #metal bat #badd #opm x reader #one punch man #one punch man season 2

[marshmallow-phd]

Friends Don’t

Genre: Friends to lovers, Fluff, angst if you squint?

Pairing: Bambam  x Noona!reader

Summary: What do you do when your best friend suddenly stops talking to you?

A/N: This is the most self-indulgent fic I’ve ever written. I think it’s almost painfully obvious. @smut-wars here it is. Also, forewarning, I needed a female friend so... you’re now in this for a hot second. Enjoy! 

**

It was days like today that you wondered why you were even friends with these losers.

When they’d invited you to come sit in their practice for their upcoming awards show performance, you thought you’d be, you know, actually watching them run through their planned stage.

Oh, no.

What you were witnessing was pure chaos – naturally started by Bambam and Yugyeom, but enhanced by the older members who were supposed to keep them in line. Even Jaebum was participating in the screaming and running around rather than acting like the leader he was supposed to be. You, on the other hand, sat quietly on the couch, arms and legs folded, watching the insanity unfolding in front of you. That is, until your phone chimed. A large grin spread across your face when you read the message.

“Ooo, is it noona’s boyfriend?” Yugyeom teased when he caught you smiling.

Bambam stopped mid-flail, frowning as he turned to you. “(y/n) doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

You said nothing as you tried to fight back the expression that would surely give you away. No, technically, you didn’t have a boyfriend, but you were talking to someone. A very handsome and sweet someone. And it was getting closer to the labeling stage. You hadn’t really told anyone about this newfound love interest and the only reason Yugyeom knew was because he was snoop who had stolen your phone when you weren’t looking. While he couldn’t unlock it, he could still read part of the new messages that were coming in.

It wasn’t like you meant to keep it a secret from your friends. Things were just… complicated. He was an up and coming actor currently starring in the drama that you were a staff writer on. That was something you always had to keep in mind with this… well, not truly a relationship, but the beginning of something. The fans and press could be unforgiving when it came to “dating scandals”. Those two words together made you want to scoff, but you held back. It wasn’t your place to criticize it. Not really, anyway.

Jackson plopped down on the couch next to you, that signature mischievous smirk on his face as he leaned in close. “So. Who is he?”

Placing a finger on his forehead and making him give you your personal space back, you answered, “None of your business.” When you looked at the time displayed by your watch, you sighed. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you guys when you get back from Hong Kong.”

“I’ll walk you to the lobby,” Bambam volunteered.

“No, that’s o-” But before you could finish your protest, he was already exiting the practice room. Jinyoung whispered something to Mark, making the latter give off a Goofy-level laugh. Curious, but in a hurry, you ignored it and followed Bambam out into the hallway.

The walk to the elevator was unusually quiet for the two of you. While Jinyoung had been the first one of the group that you befriended, over time, Bambam became one of your best friends, not just out of the group, but everyone. He was always there to make you laugh or listen when you needed an ear due to the stress of your job. You thought of him as the little brother you’d always wanted.

“So, you’re really seeing someone?” he asked once the two of you were really alone in the elevator.

You shrugged. “We’re talking. That’s about it. But, uh,” the tell-tale smile crept up on your lips again. You couldn’t even finish your sentence. It was like experiencing your first crush in high school all over again.

A heavy sigh came from Bambam. It didn’t take an expert to realize that something was wrong.

“Are you okay?” you asked, reaching out and giving his hand a comforting squeeze.

Pulling his hand out from yours, he ran his fingers through his jet black hair. You were glad he was sporting his more natural color again. Even though he could pull off all colors of the rainbow, the darker color just seemed more… him.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he mumbled.

“If you’re worried about the performance, don’t be. You’ll do great. You always do.” For emphasis, you poked his side where the exposed tattoo peeking through the side his sleeveless shirt. That garnered a small chuckle out of him before the doors opened out into the lobby. “I’ll see you when you get back, okay?”

Bambam nodded. “Sure.” Just as you stepped off the elevator, he called out for you.

“Yeah?”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Drive safe.”

“Bam-” The elevator doors closed and you sighed. Something was definitely bothering him, but you didn’t want to push. Besides, if you didn’t hurry, you were going to be late for your meeting.

**

You were dead asleep when your phone began to scream Bambam’s “Party” song out of nowhere. The jerk had set it as your ringtone for him as soon as it was released and you’ve never bothered to change it. Each time it went off when you were awake it made you jump, so suddenly hearing it at two in the morning practically shoved you out of bed.

You rubbed your sore knees that had hit the hardwood floor as you answered the phone, yawning, “Hello?”

“Hey, (y/n).”

“Hey, Bambam,” you greeted groggily. Too tire to actually get back up on your bed, you sat on the floor, your eyelids fluttering from exhaustion. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing really,” he replied drolly. “We just got back from rehearsals for the show and thought I’d just say hi.”

You laughed. “In the middle of the night?”

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckled along with you. “I forget that you actually get sleep.”

“That’s not funny.” He joked about his busy schedule all the time, but sometimes it was just too much and there more times than you could count that he’d come over to hang out or watch a movie and ended up falling asleep on your couch before the popcorn was even finished in the microwave. At least he was cute when he was asleep.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Okay. Now you knew something was really wrong. He wasn’t teasing you or throwing slightly flirty comments your way. “Bam, what’s going on? You called me for a reason. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Nothing’s wrong. Hey, I’ve got to go. The guys are calling for me.” Click.

You stared at your phone, utterly confused. He was lying. And you knew that not only by the tone of his voice, but for the fact that if the guys were really trying to get his attention, you would have been able to hear them in the background. Inside voices were not on their volume level.

You thought about calling him back, seeing if he’d answer and actually talk to you this time, but you thought better of it. When you saw him again, then you’d make him give you a straight answer.

**

“You are going to get us in trouble!” you hissed as Sangwoo pulled you into a deserted waiting room. He was guest MCing for one of the music shows today and you’d stopped by to visit during a short break.

“I missed you,” he whispered as he beamed at you. It was the kind of smile that made you soft.

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the giddiness you were feeling at this new love. “You saw me yesterday.”

“Too long.” He bent down and kissed you briefly. But your joy only lasted a split second before you spotted someone looking in through the small door window.

“Crap.” Slipping out of Sangwoo’s embrace, you ran for the door, throwing it open to try and catch up to whoever just witnessed your little display of affection. You stopped when you recognized the back of the person walking slowly away. “Bambam?”

He barely glanced at you over his shoulder, an unreadable expression on his face that had you taken aback, before he rounded the corner and disappeared. You went back into the classroom, your concern shifting from yourself to your friend. The giddiness from just a few seconds ago was gone, replaced by something heavier and gloomy.

“Are we busted?” Sangwoon asked.

You shook your head. “No. It was Bambam. He’s one of my closest friends. He won’t tell anyone.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “Good. I don’t know how we would have covered that up.”

That statement rubbed you the wrong way. Sure, the two of you had agreed to keep this relationship secret, but that didn’t mean you had to be happy about it. Outright lying felt wrong on too many levels.

Your mood now ruined, you fibbed, “I’ve got to go. We’ve got a brainstorming meeting. But I’ll call you later, okay?” You gave Sangwoo a quick kiss on the cheek and left, your phone already in your hand, hoping that he would answer.

**

Interns and staff members alike were scrambling out of the way as you stormed down the hallways of JYP Entertainment. To say that you were pissed off was an understatement.

For the past two weeks, Bambam had ignored every attempt you made to contact him. Your calls always went to voicemail, your texts were ignored. Hell, you even went to his apartment a few times, but no one ever answered the door. Going the back way through Yugyeom had been useless as well, as he basically blew you off and gave you no logical reason as to why you were being frozen out. What had you done that was so bad?

Last night had been the final straw when you found yourself crying until you finally fell asleep, agonizing over the whole situation. You felt like you’d lost a piece of you. Not even Sangwoo could make it better. He just kept saying that – as a kpop idol – Bambam was probably just busy and didn’t need any distractions at the moment.

Distractions? Since when were you a distraction? In all your time that you’d been friends with the group, you’d never been pushed aside like this, not even when they were double booked in preparing for both a comeback and a world tour. Bambam still always made time for you.

Finally finding the right practice room, you threw the door open, making the occupying members jump. Only four were currently present, stretching out their muscles for another long day of dance practice.

“Where is he?” you demanded.

“Where’s who?” Thankfully Jinyoung hit the back of Jackson’s head for you. You were so not in the mood for his sarcastic remarks.

“Practice is closed today.”

You turned around to find Bambam and Yugyeom standing in the doorway. Crossing your arms, you gave both of them the death glare. While the maknae hightailed it to the safety of his hyungs behind you, Bambam stayed where he was, unaffected.

“Well?” you scoffed.

“Well, what?” he shot back.

Oh, you were so going to kill him. “Are you going to explain yourself?”

“Don’t think I need to.”

“Bambam!” Jackson scolded. Now he was on your side.

Temper flaring, you grabbed Bambam’s wrist, dragged him out of the practice room and into the storage closet at the end of the hallway. You flipped on the light and locked the door, trapping him inside with you.

“Do you realize what you’ve put me through these last couple of weeks!” you exclaimed, trying – and probably failing – to keep your volume down in order to not draw a crowd that would love to eavesdrop on any sort of drama within their vicinity.

“Sorry,” he shrugged, clearly not concerned. “I didn’t think you’d care so much considering you have a new boytoy and all.”

“Boytoy?” What the hell? “You mean Sangwoo? What does he have to do with any of this? Is that why you’ve been ignoring me? If you think that I would just drop you because I have a boyfriend now, then you’re wrong! I’ve been trying to keep things the same between us, but you’re the one who’s been blowing me off!”

He shook his head, jaw strutted out like when he mocked Jaebum. You’d never seen him do that to actually convey his own feelings before. “Whatever.” He tried to get passed you, reaching for the door handle, but you shoved his arm away.

“No, not whatever!” You held back a sniff, scared that you were going to have a repeat of last night, just with an audience this time. “Bambam, talk to me. What is going on? Why do you hate me all of a sudden?”

“I don’t hate you!” he snapped. Once again, he tried to get past you, but you wouldn’t budge. He groaned, taking a step back. “Fine! Do you really want to know?”

“Yes!”

You did not anticipate what he did next.

What you had been expecting was him saying something along the lines of not liking the fact that you kept Sangwoo a secret from him. Or maybe he was upset about you not going to see them first at the music show where they were doing a special stage. Really, you’d just expected him to say something. But Bambam didn’t use words to let you know what had been bothering him lately.

Instead, he cradle either side of your neck, thumbs resting on your jaw as he brought his lips down to meet yours. You felt like the female lead in an old drama, just standing there wide eyed and in shock. But… it didn’t… feel wrong, kissing Bambam. Or… being kissed by Bambam, that is. It was soft and delicate, fearful even, of the consequences of this kiss might be.

Just as your own eyes were beginning to close, however, he pulled away, unlocking the door and stalking out of the closet without a single word of explanation. But you didn’t really need any sort of explanation beyond what just occurred. You’d heard him loud and clear.

Several minutes went by before you could leave the storage closet as well, still too stunned to function properly. You bypassed the practice room where music was blaring loudly. Thankfully the door was closed so you weren’t even tempted to look inside. You needed to get out of the building and you really needed a drink.

**

Bee did an actual spit take went you told her what happened. “He did not!”

Frowning, you cleaned her mess up from the conference room table using the napkin the barista had given you for your own coffee that morning.

It’d been several days since… the incident and neither of you had contacted the other. You didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t even know what to think. So, of course, you turned to your work wife for a little advice.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “He really did. And I have no idea what to do.”

Bee snorted. “Isn’t it obvious? Dump the actor and date Bambam.”

Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She took another sip of her coffee, giving you a very pointed look over the rim of her cup.

“He’s my friend,” you argued. “Just my friend. I’ve always thought of him like my little brother. And you know me, I like older guys, not younger. That is a no-go area for me. I can’t- I mean- it’s Bambam.”

“Puh-lease.” Leaning back in her chair, Bee rolled her eyes. “The two of you were never just friends. ‘Friends’,” she even used air quotes to emphasis her thoughts on that seven letter word, “don’t call each other in the middle of the night for no reason. ‘Friends’ don’t cancel plans they’ve had for weeks to make hang out with each other.”

“Okay, you can’t blame me for that. He’s hardly free anymore to hangout. I have to take my time when I can.”

The expression on Bee’s face just told you that you were simply fueling her argument rather than putting it out. Shifting so she was now resting her elbows against the table, she went on, “You seriously need to stop fighting this. I’ve watched the two of you have entire conversations just by looking at each other. Are you really going to sit there and tell me you didn’t feel something when he kissed you? Something that you’ve written about a hundred times but never felt before, not even with Sangwoo?”

You sat there with pursed lips, tapping your fingers against the table. It annoyed you, how right she was. Sure, when you were with Sangwoo you felt a little giddy, but how much of that was due to him being this cute actor paying attention to you versus you having genuine feelings for him?

Being with Bambam was effortless, like breathing. Since your first meeting, the two of you were in sync, always able to tell what the other was thinking. The same things made you laugh and you could sit in silence with him for hours doing nothing and not be bored or uncomfortable. You’d always put him in this box, slapped the label of “family” on him, but what if it wasn’t because that was just how you saw him? What if – subconsciously - you did it because it kept you safe? You couldn’t get hurt if you were the one who kept him at arm’s length.

Sighing, you picked your phone and sent a text to Sangwoo that asked him to meet you in your usual spot away from prying eyes.

“Make up your mind?” Bee asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I’ve got to go see Sangwoo first.”

Smirking, she took another sip of her drink. “At least you’re doing it in person.”

**

Why was this so hard? You’d entered this place a million times before. Why did it sudden feel so foreboding?

You’d gone to the JYP building first, thinking you could talk to Bambam and get it over with. But it took you nearly forty-five minutes just to find someone from his group that might know where he was at.

Youngjae was in one of smaller practice rooms that was more for vocal training, alone. Really, you’d heard his voice before seeing him. With his back to you, his fingers danced across the keys of the piano, stopping only for a few seconds so he could right down whatever melody he was putting together. He noticed you in the mirror after a minute or two. “Hey, (y/n).”

“Hey,” you waved back shyly.

Knowing exactly what you were wanting, he didn’t miss a beat. “He’s not here.”

You blinked, your brain apparently deciding to process sentences at a slower speed then normal. “What?”

Youngjae chuckled at you. “Bambam. He didn’t have any schedules, so he stayed home. It didn’t sound like he planned on leaving for anything, so you should probably head over there.”

“Thank you,” you nodded.

“Of course, noona.”

You sighed, leaving him alone to work on his new song while you hurried back to your car.

Now you were standing outside Bambam’s apartment building, wondering if this was really the right decision. What if it was too late? What if you waited too long to try and figure this situation out and now your friendship with Bambam had disintegrated into pieces that were no longer salvageable?

Kicking yourself in the butt, you took that first step into the lobby. It didn’t get any easier the closer you got to the elevator, but you kept going and that was all that mattered. You reached his floor and came to a stop to the door that had once been so friendly and inviting. Would he even answer when you knocked?

Oh, well. Here goes nothing.

You knocked only three times and then waited. Your heart began to race when you heard shuffling coming from the other side. It grew louder until coming to a stop just inside the door. For a moment nothing happened. You began to think you would have to wait out here all night when the lock finally clicked. Holding your breath, you tried to keep composed while Bambam slowly came into view.

“Hi,” you said softly.

“Hey,” he whispered back.

The awkwardness hanging in the air was killing you. “Can I come in?”

He nodded, opening the door wider and stepping aside so you could enter. Cupcake immediately came up and rubbed her head against your leg, purring. You reached down and gave her a couple scratches behind her ears before straightening up to face Bambam. That earned you a few swipes from her paw, but your focus was needed elsewhere.  

The one you really came to see was now leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he stared at you. “What are you doing here?”

“To talk.” Obviously. You cleared your throat. “About what happened the other day.”

“You didn’t need to reject me to my face. Your silence the last couple of days was enough. Or text if you wanted to make it clearer.” Pushing off the wall, he started to walk passed you, but you reached out and grabbed his hand to stop him. You let the fingers of your other hand wrap around his upper arm, like you had when you’d gotten scared in the haunted house last year. You wanted to smile at the memory, but you needed to remain serious right now.

“I’m sorry that I took so long to figure it out.” Your voice came out so small you were straining to hear yourself. But you worried that if you spoke any louder, the trembling fear you were holding back would be more apparent. “I was just… confused. Because I’d always forced myself away from thinking of you in that way. But that didn’t stop me from… feeling this way about you. More than I ever have about anybody. So, if you can forgive me for being an idiot, I’d like to see what we can be.”

Bambam finally made real eye contact with you. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “What about Sangwoo?”

“I broke with him. I couldn’t be with him after- oof!”

Bambam apparently only needed to hear that you were single again. He all but tackled you into a hug, pulling you so tightly into his chest that breathing was becoming a tad bit difficult.

You patted his back. “Um, Bambam? My lungs need a little more room to expand.”

“Oh, sorry.” He let go just enough to take a single step back. He leaned his forehead against yours, sighing in content. “I’ve missed you. More than anything.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” you promised.

“Good.” He stole a kiss – one that you were able to reciprocate this time. He smiled at you and then tugged you over to the couch. “Come on. I’ll order your favorite pizza and we can watch whatever you want. I’m getting as much time in with you as I can before we leave tomorrow.”

Your mood sank as he pulled you down onto the couch next to him, his arms still around your waist. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

He nodded solemnly. “Yeah. Fan meeting in Thailand. But we’ll be back in a few days.”

“At least you’re going home,” you pointed out, more to make yourself feel better than anything.

“I don’t know,” he smiled crookedly. “Home kind of feels like right here now.”

You slapped his chest playfully before leaning in so his chin was resting on the top of your head. Cupcake jumped up onto your lap, feeling the need to join in on the love fest.

While Bambam called the usual pizza place for delivery, you stared at him, mesmerized by what you hadn’t seen before. Your world had shifted back into place after being thrown so wildly off course. It felt like the universe was balanced once more. Everything had changed and yet nothing had. Bambam could still be your best friend, but he could be more, too. And that was all you needed. Everyone loved the dramas where the leads start out as enemies, but you believed the purest love stories come the ones who started off as friends.

(second moodboard made by @smut-wars)

#bambam #bambam x reader #got7 #mark tuan #jackson wang #im jaebum #park jinyoung #choi youngjae #kim yugyeom #got7 fanfic #kpop #fluff #friends to lovers

[catsandstrawberries]

Real Family 8

Pairings: BTS x teen female reader, platonic love

Warnings: Language, neglect, descriptions of a panic attack and past child abuse 

A/N: Sorry I haven't posted in so long, hopefully, this chapter makes up for it. Also, I PROMISE Yoongi gets better but for the next few chapters he's going to be a jerk..I'm sorry but I can't imagine him feeling ok with reader living with him at this point in time. 

Summary: It’s not blood that makes a family. It’s love.

Masterlist 

The week after they had given me my own phone they had automatically became super busy. They were always leaving early in the mourning and coming home late at night, I didn't really expect anything different considering they were idols. Sometimes they would invite me to come with them to dance practice, I thought it would be fun until I saw all of the hip rolls and thrust in their choreo. Dancing like that in front of the girl who's living with you and trying not to be too sexual is weird.

So for the most part I stayed at home, and indulged in the Netflix account Jungkook made for me. Honestly, most of my days were spent eating and watching the show called the Office. In the past week I had watched seven seasons of the Office and finished Parks and Recreations. Both of which made me cry at some point from laughter and sadness. Taehyung also helped me set up an Instagram and Twitter, and sometimes we would send each other awkward selfies when he had some downtime at work. Apparently, Namjoon had even started an Instagram called the BTS family, and I later found out that the day I was supposed to get coffee for Bang, led to him yelling at the boys for not using me to my promotional potential. Or at least that was my guess and when I told Jungkook my theory, his widened eyes and exclamation of ‘you're not a promotional tool to us!’ told me my hunch was right. 

All the boys had the password except for me to the Instagram account, which was a little aggravating but Namjoon also had to sit me down and talk to me about how I would need to be responsible in what I posted since I gained about 8 million followers on Instagram. The Bts Fam account was also just cringey photos of myself. There was one of me from the photo shoot, one of me and Tae, the rainbow shot of the boys and one of me sleeping on the couch. I messaged Jin asking (begging) him to delete it because I was drooling in the photo but in response, he sent me a laughing emoji.

Currently, I was watching reruns of the office since Hoseok asked me not to watch the final season without him. I refused to hold back my laughter as Kevin spilled his chilly onto the floor or when Stanley talked about his love of pretzel day. But as soon as the door slammed shut followed by a silence I immediately muted the show, calling out, “hello?” Even though I knew the house was pretty top security, doors slamming and the silence always scared me. “Just me (Y/N)!” Namjoon poked his head out from behind the wall, looking up from his phone and tucking it in his pocket. “You're back early,” I stated turning around on the couch and leaning my head against the frame to get a better view. “Yeah practice got out earlier and they decided to give us off till Monday.” He sounded so relieved but it was only Saturday, it was sad to think they had to work so hard just to get one day off. Instead of crushing his dreams though I simply smiled. “That's great.” I then noticed the quiet in the building, “what happened to the boys?” He flopped down on the couch next to me, “they went to get food-.” I immediately groaned, “Not salads again!” BTS comeback was in a few months and of course, they all were expected to diet and one of the first and only things Yoongi had said to me this week was, “If we're doing it so is she.” He didn't even say it to my face or address me, so our relationship wasn't really getting anywhere. “Sorry.” He smirked, words not matching his emotion. “Actually, when the boys get back we all should talk.” I gulped, turning off the Tv and turning to Namjoon. “Is s-something wrong?” I stuttered, despite the fact I was getting more comfortable with them I was always waiting for something wrong to happen, expecting it. Maybe this was it. Namjoon opened his mouth but the loud shouting of Hoseok prompted him to roll his eyes instead. “(Y/N) you better not have watched the last season without me!” An annoyed sigh followed by a wack came from the other room. “Can you quiet down Hoseok, anyways we have to talk to her remember.” Jin's strict voice startled me, what was so important? Jimin soon filtered into the room ruffling my hair as he passed by then jumping over the couch to sit by me. After he had done it at the photoshoot it kind of became our ‘thing’. Even after plentiful whining from Tae and Kook about how they wanted a ‘thing’ too. The rest of the boys flooded into the room, Jin handing me a bowl of greens and vegetables, the only thing slightly appealing was the boiled eggs. I tried not to act too ungrateful, even a salad was better than no food, but why did I have to diet with them, stupid Yoongi. Once everyone had settled down and Jungkook handed me a fork, all eyes were on the leader. He twiddled slightly with his thumbs as he spoke, “So (Y/N), I got a message from the state the other day about them sending a social worker to check up on you. Apparently, it's routine for them to see your lifestyle, how you're adjusting and everything.” I practically sighed in relief at his words, if this was the news then I had nothing to worry about. I suddenly perked up as a thought entered my head, “is the social worker Katie?” I honestly missed Katie, even though we fought and got on each other's nerves she was the closest thing I had to a mom. Jimin chuckled next to me and I blushed from my sudden excitement, stuffing a large piece of kale into my mouth. “The email didn't specify,” his tone then turned serious, “but, (Y/N) I was doing some research and they said if the meeting didn't go well you could get revoked from our parental rights.” Of course, I knew this, since it had happened in the past, but was he really worried about that?  “Namjoon it's nothing to worry about, the state would only take me away if I was in an unfit home. Like the last place I lived at they drank a lot, called me names, tried to…” I faltered off just as Jimin had tensed from beside me. “I-I don't know why I said that. I'm sorry.” I hung my head in defeat, that wasn't just something I'd blurt out why did I feel so inclined to bring it up now. “Anyways, you guys will be fine, I have a roof, food, The Office.” I chuckled but this time no one laughed with me, all eyes downcast or glaring into the distance. Clearing my throat I started to eat more of my salad, “you guys will be fine, when is it?” My question caused Namjoon to blink a few times before looking at me. “Tuesday. We’re supposed to have a practice that day but I convinced Bang to let us leave for a few hours.” Jungkook let out an audible ‘yes’ followed by an ‘ow’ as he was smacked by Yoongi. “Is that all we had to talk about?” The nervous look on Namjoon's face only deepened and my stomach started to twist. “No. We enrolled you into a private school.” I gulped the remaining food in my mouth hanging my head in my hands once again letting out an annoyed groan, “you start Monday.”

When Tae had offered to take me to Target to shop for school supplies I did not question him. I thought he was just trying to do something nice. But as soon as the car pulled up to the mall Tae started to head for the store that screamed expensive in big glowing letters. Gucci. “Tae I can't go in there, isn't that for like expensive people?” Tae turned towards me, pushing his sunglasses up once they started to roll down the rim of his nose. His black and red checkered bandana pulled his hair back and the black Gucci shirt and jeans did nothing to hide his appearance or physique. “Don't worry so much, we’ll just make a quick stop then leave.” I grumbled under my breath, I doubted Tae could simply just make a ‘quick stop’ at Gucci. The security guard in front of the store gave Tae a nod followed by, “welcome back, Mr. Kim.” Jesus how many times had Tae been to this store. The guard gave me a side eye but didn't mention anything as I walked closer to Tae. The insides of the store were terrifying, everything looked expensive and I worried that if I touched something I would somehow fall 5 million into debt. The store was lit with a soft yellow and white glow, a set of purses in a glass case covering an entire wall, a full room of shoes and mannequins with strange looking sweaters were placed in the oddest of places. Turning a corner I almost jumped when seeing a mannequin holding a Gucci bag in one hand and a strange interpretation of a Kimono on the body. Trestles and chains hanging from the shoulders.

“Tae can we please get going soon, am I even old enough to be in a store like this?” Just as I asked, I walked by a set of baby clothes all pricing over 1,000 dollars. “Don't answer that,” I grumbled while Tae openly laughed at me. “Why don't you go wait outside while I check out,” before I could argue Tae was raising an eyebrow at me. “I'll be quick I promise.” Taking him for his word I exited the fancy store, casually leaning by the wall and taking out my phone.

Not even five minutes after walking out of the store Tae was done, meeting me outside a bag in hand. “What did you get?” I asked but he simply brushed off my question, “just some stuff. Here I got you these.” He placed a pair of sunglasses over my eyes, “you'll need them the more we go out in public.” Pulling a black mask from his pocket he quickly placed it over his mouth, “let's go.”

Once we had gotten to Target, Tae of course immediately got distracted. “(Y/N) these would look so cute on you, look!” He was like a kid in a candy store, shoving clothes in my hands and carrying me throughout the department. “Tae, why are we looking at clothes when I have a school uniform?” Tae turned towards me taking the clothes out of my hand and placing them in a handheld basket. “Don't think I don't notice the seven pairs of clothes you rotate through in a week (Y/N). I'm not an idiot.” Despite the cloth, over his mouth, I heard every syllable, and I looked away in annoyance. “Besides I can't let my kid go out in public without the proper clothes.” He turned away for a moment muttering something about how he wished it was Gucci, but the only thing I cared about was how he described me as ‘his kid.’ “Go try these on.” He handed me a big basket of clothes, “all of them?” Tae glared at me, before sighing. “Seriously (Y/N), please go try them on.” I glared at the ground as I walked towards the dressing room, not missing the smirk that passed Taehyung's face as I muttered, “only because you said please.”

After a full-on argument with Tae about how I didn't need 12 pairs of jeans he finally gave in and let me choose half of the clothes out of the pile he gave me. So the original fifty items soon turned into twenty-five. Shopping with Tae was seriously a hassle. Every time I remotely looked at something he would be breathing down my neck asking if I wanted it. Sure it may seem nice but it was also annoying. So far he had shoved Yankee Candles, fairy lights, and some supplements into the basket for my room, stating that ‘I needed to decorate.’ He tried to grab more especially when we got to the room decorating section with sheets, mirrors, hangars, couches and the fancy led lights. I had to drag him to the school section which was odd because that was the ONLY reason we were supposed to go to Target and we seemed to buy everything except for school supplies. As soon as we got to the aisle Tae’s nose scrunched up in disgust, “I hated school.” I glared at him and he quickly realized his mistake, “I mean school was fun...yay, learning.” Tae walked over to a pile of fancy looking notebooks and binders and simply swiped them into the basket from the shelf. “I actually met Jimin in high school.”

“Really?” I asked slightly in awe, everyone always talked about how once they graduated they moved on from there high school friends. “Yeah, Jimin got picked on a lot for his accent so I always tried to stand up for him. That's how we became friends.” He turned back towards me a smile on his face, “I know school can be rough, but try giving this one a chance.” I smiled and nodded throwing a pack of pens into the basket. If only I had known exactly what would happen at my new school.

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