#that's so 90's collab

[wooahaeproductions]

You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright)

Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Female Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, fake dating au, 90s au, ex-best friends au, and heavily based off the movie You Drive Me Crazy

Word Count: 15.2k (IM SO SORRY🙃 )

Warnings: language, mentions of terminal illness and death, bullying, drinking, drunken bad ideas, mentions of medicine, cheating, breakups, general college debauchery, making fun of furs in the fashion industry (used only to go with the 90s vibes), lots of feelings and oppressing them, jokes and conversations about sex, making out and kissing, and mentions of vomiting.

Smut Warnings: a little dry humping, semi public sex in a backyard treehouse? and protected sex (honestly the smut in this is pretty vanilla)

Rating: 18+

A/N: After forever, I’m excited to present this fic to you. I have never written anything this long before so once again I am sorry. Thank you to @beomcoups and @mingsolo for hosting the Now That’s 90’s! collab, as a 90s kid myself it was my pleasure to participate. Please go check out all the other amazing writers who joined as well!

Special thanks to Indi @playmetheclassics and Sammie @slightlymore for beta reading this monster for me. You guys are the best and I love you 💕 ~Bee

Network tags: @kbookshelf

With one last glance at your appearance in the mirror, you grabbed your bookbag from the chair in the corner of your room. You headed down the long curved staircase before opening the front door of the sorority house. 

You were almost going to be late, and to make matters worse, you came face-to-face with your enemy at the end of the driveway. Which wasn’t that unusual since he walked this way too, despite living further away, but you tried your best to avoid him anyway.

“Ew, what are you doing here?” Jihoon asks, walking past you at the driveway and lifting his lip in disgust.

“I live at the sorority, remember, asshole?” you spat, hating the fact that you had to walk in the same direction to get to campus. You two had been this way for a long time now, and it had become a habit to be prickly toward him. 

It hadn’t always been like that, though. In fact, you guys used to be best friends, completely inseparable. At least until his mom got sick when you were in junior high, and he started hanging out with some different people and getting into trouble. You then got in with the popular kids, and you and Jihoon have become enemies ever since. 

You two walked stiffly beside each other as you reached the edge of campus, and Jihoon’s friends appeared. Seokmin put him in a small headlock, and Seungkwan gave you a small smile while Wonwoo just shook his head. You actually knew his three best friends as well. You all used to hang out way back when. You smiled meekly back before arms wrapped around your shoulders, and your boyfriend, Johnny, had found you as well. 

“Hey, babe,” Johnny said, smacking a kiss near your ear. You resisted the urge to cringe. He was in the popular crowd too, a football player. While he wasn’t that bad and was easy on the eyes, he was boring, only caring about football and whatever party was next to attend. You missed having someone with a level of intelligence, someone you could debate things with like you used to do with Jihoon. It didn’t matter, though. You were enemies now, and nothing would change that. 

You made it through your first few classes, and you were having lunch in the courtyard with Johnny along with what you considered the entire popular crew, including your best friend, Jennie. You sat at a long table, eating a sandwich while everyone talked about the next football game and a party at Mingyu’s that was happening later. 

Across the courtyard, you spotted Jihoon in your line of vision, his girlfriend pushing him against the concrete wall, practically sucking his face off. You swallowed a bite of your sandwich, trying not to gag. Just as you turned away from the sight, Seungkwan was walking past. Before you could stop him, Johnny pretended to accidentally put his foot out in front of him. Seungkwan tripped over it, dropping the food he was carrying all over the ground and falling forward. The entire table erupted in laughter as Johnny retracted his foot like it had never been there. “Having trouble walking, Kwannie?” Johnny’s best friend, Mark heckled.

Seungkwan looked at Mark and Johnny with loathing. You got up, giving Johnny and Mark a glare. “What? We were only having some fun,” Johnny said innocently. You threw what was left of your food in the trash and walked over to Seungkwan. You stuck your hand out, letting him grab it and helped him up from the ground. 

“Thanks, Y/N. You know you didn’t have to,” he said.

“I know, Seungkwan, but it’s not like I hate you too,” you said softly.

“See you around,” he said, a sad smile on his face before he walked out of the courtyard.

Later that evening, you were getting ready for Mingyu’s party with Jennie because both she and Johnny insisted you had to appear. “So, our sorority ball is coming up…do you think Johnny is going to ask you soon?” Jennie asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s going to. I mean, who else would I go with?” you said, brushing off her question. You were helping plan the entire thing, and he knew it was important, so there wasn’t any reason why he wouldn’t be asking you. 

She nodded, but her face said she was skeptical. “What about you? Has anyone asked you yet?” You turned the question around on her.

“No, but I’m sure Mingyu or Taeyong will ask. It’s not like I don’t have options,” she bragged, and you struggled to hide your contempt. While you were part of the popular crowd, Jennie had always been the most popular. Others were more drawn to her than you.

You escaped the rest of the conversation with Jennie when it was interrupted by a honking sound, indicating Johnny was there to pick the two of you up to go to the party. You both walked outside and as you approached his truck, you heard music blasting out of the open windows. Mark was in the front passenger seat while you and Jennie slipped in the back with Mark’s girlfriend, Miyeon.

Miyeon waved at you and you barely got your seatbelt on before the truck lurched forward, making its way down the road towards Mingyu’s house. “Who’s ready to dominate at pong tonight?” Mark bragged.

“Yeahhhhh,” Johnny enthused, reaching over to bump Mark’s fist with his. You rolled your eyes and looked over at Jennie. She just shrugged at you like it wasn’t as big of an annoyance as you were making it out to be.

The truck swung into the driveway of Mingyu’s house, and as Johnny cut the engine, it was replaced by the louder sounds of the house party. More music blasted from the back of the house where the pool was, and you could hear the sounds of splashing along with the hum of many people conversing at once. 

You followed behind Johnny as you weaved through the house, making your way to the kitchen for a drink. The large island was littered with many types of alcohol and random snacks. The signature punch bowl filled with some sort of pink liquid had also made its usual appearance, but you had made that mistake enough times and knew better enough to stay far away from it. 

You grabbed a red solo cup from the stack on the counter, making a mixed drink out of some random soda and liquor that sounded decent. It looked like Johnny had done the same and was pulling you by the hand to go out in the backyard where Mingyu and the rest of their buddies were. Jennie was already cozying up and dancing with some guy you didn’t recognize, likely from another university.

Meanwhile, Jihoon was on a date with his girlfriend, Shayla at a weird little bar across ton. Well, it was supposed to be a date, but all Jihoon had done was down beers while Shayla listened to some guy on the stage in front drone on about how real furs were being used in the fashion industry.

Jihoon hated how Shayla was looking at this guy, like he was the one single-handedly stopping the usage of real furs. Never mind the fact that she was on a date with Jihoon, her boyfriend. Jihoon scowled as he chugged beer after beer. 

He didn’t even notice how drunk he was until he got up and the room started spinning slightly. Stumbling over his chair, he looked over to find that Shayla had gone to the edge of the stage and was actively flirting with the fur guy. Jihoon needed to go to the bathroom and then he needed to get out of there. 

As he was washing his hands in the bathroom, he stared at his reflection in the mirror and realized he had started to sober up rather quickly, but he had ridden here with Shayla. Jihoon found the pay phone near the door of the bar. The opening and closing of the door created cold rushes of air, sobering him even more. He called one of his best friends, who also happened to be a designated driver for when the popular kids had parties. 

After feeding the pay phone the correct amount of coins and dialing the number, Wonwoo’s voice picked up after a few rings. “Jihoooonnnn, what’s up?” Wonwoo asked.

“Can you come get me from that stupid bar Shayla likes? I drank, and Shayla drove here,” Jihoon explained. 

“And you aren’t coming back with her?” Wonwoo questioned. Jihoon looked back toward the table he had been at with Shayla, only to find her making out with the fur dude.

“No, we broke up,” he said, bitterly. 

Wonwoo sighed. “Alright, I’ll come get you before we head to pick someone up at Mingyu’s party,” he said before hanging up. 

Jihoon hung up the line on his end and made a beeline back to where Shayla was. He tapped on her shoulder, breaking her from the make-out session, and immediately her face turned into one of someone who had been caught.

“We’re done, Shayla,” Jihoon said, rather dryly. He turned on his heel, not waiting for a reaction from her and walked out of the bar to wait for Wonwoo outside in the parking lot. 

When Jihoon was busy drowning in beers at the bar, you were also having an unfortunate turn of events. The party started out fine, you were having a good time dancing with Johnny and it progressed into being his partner for beer pong against Mark and Miyeon. 

Unfortunately, you and Johnny were losing. It started out okay, Johnny was being a bit of a gentleman and was drinking for you, but that was leaving him pretty smashed. It was Mark’s turn and he had gotten the ball in another cup, making Johnny drink yet another cup of beer. 

Johnny stumbled backward, spilling most of the contents of his cup on a girl who was walking behind him. It was like a scene from a movie, you watched as Johnny apologized to her and their eyes met each other’s. Anyone around could have seen the immediate connection. 

You originally tried to brush it off but with Johnny being as drunk as he was, it was apparent that something was bound to happen. Later, when you had come inside to use the bathroom, you would find Johnny and that girl sucking face right next to the bathroom door.

A screamed breakup and way too many drinks later, Jennie had called a designated driver to take you home. You sat on Mingyu’s front porch, sulking and watching the world spin when Wonwoo’s car pulled up. 

“Hey there, Y/N,” Wonwoo said, getting out of the driver's seat and approaching you on the porch. You gave him a nonchalant peace sign before noticing he had another passenger in the car. 

“Oh, great. That’s just the thing to top off my night, being stuck in a car with Jihoon while I’m drunk,” you said sarcastically, letting Wonwoo lead you down the steps and toward the car.

“I know, Y/N, but he called me too, and he is my friend as well. Try to bear with it, and you’ll be home soon enough,” Wonwoo said, knowing full well the relationship, or rather hate-ship, between you and Jihoon.

You rolled your eyes but slid into the seat next to Jihoon as Wonwoo shut the door after you. “Seriously, Wonwoo? This is who you needed to pick up from Mingyu’s party?” Jihoon’s annoyance was evident. Already tired from your rant, Wonwoo just gave him a hard stare in the rearview mirror. 

Leaving the party, the car was silent until Wonwoo brought up the reason for picking you up. “Y/N, you aren’t one to get that drunk at these parties. Jennie may have mentioned something happened..” 

You pulled your sweater around you and grumbled. “Johnny got too drunk, and after some weird drama connection shit, I found him and a girl from another university making out. He claims they ‘fell in love’,” you explained, using air quotes at the end. 

“So you broke up?” Jihoon’s question surprised you, but you were too tired and drunk to actively be rude to him

“Yeah, we broke up,” you confirmed.

“Seems to be the theme tonight,” Wonwoo mused from the front seat.

Confused, you looked over at Jihoon who was picking at his hands and looking at something particularly enthralling on the floor of the automobile. So, he and Shayla must have broken up as well. You felt that was interesting since they seemed attached at the hip, attached at the mouth too. Jihoon looked out the window now, and you saw a hurt in his eyes that he so seldom showed, but it was a familiar vulnerability that you remember from when you were kids. 

“We’re here, Y/N,” Wonwoo announced, and you realized he had pulled up in front of your sorority house. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or being in an enclosed space with Jihoon that messed with your perception of time, but you were home quicker than you expected.

“Oh. Um, thanks, Wonwoo,” you mumbled, pushing the passenger door of the car open.

“Are you good? Can you get to the door okay?” Wonwoo asked.

“Yeah,” you responded, swinging your heavy-feeling feet out of the car before shutting the door a little harder than you meant to.

Jihoon watched as you stumbled down the walkway and nearly smacked yourself in the knee when you opened the front door of the sorority, a chuckle escaping him. “Was that a laugh I heard?” Wonwoo asked, turning around in his seat to scrutinize Jihoon’s expression.

“No…” Jihoon mumbled and cleared his throat. Wonwoo just shook his head, turned back to the front and pulled away from the sorority house to drop off his friend. 

“So, are you really that broken up about Shayla?” Wonwoo inquired, filling the five-minute drive with conversation.

“Honestly? Not really. I’m more upset about the way we broke up rather than the actual break up,” Jihoon explained, his hand running at his bangs in annoyance.

“Seriously. Out of everyone she could have kissed, it was some dumb activist guy at the bar. Now that you guys are over, I can say this, but Seok, Seungkwan, and I didn’t really think she fit with you. You deserve so much better,” Wonwoo ranted on Jihoon’s behalf.

The car had pulled up in Jihoon’s driveway while they were talking, and Jihoon slapped a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder as he got up from the backseat. “Thanks, Woo. I know you guys didn’t care for her much, so now it’s ancient history,” Jihoon said, leaving Wonwoo alone in the car and making his way up his front porch steps.

He had barely gotten into the house and gone up the stairs to his room to flop onto his bed when the phone rang. “No, Seokmin. For the final time, we are not adding dancing suns to the music video edit,” Jihoon said into the phone automatically, not even bothering to say a greeting first.

“Uh, what?” you asked, confused.

Hearing your voice on the other line caused Jihoon to sit upright immediately. “Y/N? How did you get this number?” he questioned, surprised. 

“I remembered it..” you said, softly. As much as you hated Jihoon, your memories of your childhood remained, and that included his phone number. 

“Oh. So..why are you calling?” he asked, falling back onto his bed.

“I had an idea. What if...we dated each other?” You stated your idea, twirling the phone cord around your finger.

“What if we what? Y/N, you’re drunk,” Jihoon exclaimed.

“I'm not anymore, just hear me out. Not really dating but just pretending so that we could get what we wanted. I’d get to go to the sorority dance that I worked hard to plan and maintain my status while making Johnny jealous, and you’d get to show Shayla that she made a big mistake,” you blurted out your crazy idea.

“I don't know where you got this insane idea, but you should drink some water and take an ibuprofen for the nasty headache you’ll have in the morning,” he said, sighing.

“I’m serious, just think about it okay? Goodnight, Ji,” you said, his old nickname rolling off your tongue easily. 

Jihoon sighed again, “Good night, Y/N,” and he hung up the phone before falling asleep.

Your sleep was invaded by the sunlight shining in through your window, and as you opened your eyes, the splitting headache that resulted from last night's events made itself known. You sat up in bed slowly, pressing the palm of your hand against your eyes as if that would help when you remembered your phone call last night with Jihoon. He told you to drink water and take an ibuprofen.

You got up sluggishly and made your way to the bathroom, grabbing the cup that you left on the counter for when you got thirsty in the middle of the night. You filled it with water from the sink and found the ibuprofen bottle that was kept in the cabinet, spilling two pills into your palm. You popped them in your mouth and knocked them back, taking a drink of the water to swallow them. 

As you took a second drink of water for good measure, the rest of your conversation with Jihoon passed through your memories, and you spit water all over the mirror in front of you. You knew that you had been thinking how pretending to date each other would be an option, but you didn’t think you would actually ask him to do it. Apparently, drunken Y/N thought otherwise and had straight up called him and asked him to do it.

You smacked yourself in the forehead, making your head feel worse. “Well, it’s been said. And he didn’t agree to it yet, so let’s see what happens,” you murmured to yourself, resigned to the fact that it had indeed been said and maybe he wouldn’t go for it. No sense in being embarrassed about something you barely remember saying.

Which is why you didn’t expect to have Jihoon standing in front of you in the campus cafe on Monday morning saying, “I’ll do it,” causing you to spit your drink out for the second time in three days.

“You’ll what?” you asked, incredulous, as you wiped the coffee you sprayed all over the table in front of you. 

Jihoon sighed, not wanting to repeat himself. “I said, I’ll do it. Let’s fake date,” he repeated anyway, slowly to make his words heard. You blinked and just stared at him, absorbing what he just said. He stared back, his eyes boring into yours, and you saw no sign of his usual pettiness or jokes.

“Okay,” you finally breathed out, “but we should have some rules.”

“Agreed,” he said, sitting down next to you now.

“Okay….” you said, mulling over what those rules would actually be. “Alright, you’ll need a makeover. No one would believe we are together looking like…this,” you continued, gesturing at his overall self.

“Like what, Y/N?” Jihoon asked, even though he knew full well what you meant.

“We need to make it seem like you are someone I’d go for,” you said, trying to make your case.

“Fine, but I will not like it,” he replied with a glare, and you let out a little triumphant smile. “So then the other rule is that we have an easy out clause,” he said, offering a rule of his own.

“An easy out clause?” you questioned. 

“Yeah. So we can end the fake relationship at any time for any reason, and there won’t be any hard feelings. Other than the ones we already have for each other, of course,” Jihoon continued.

“Alright, an easy out clause,” you agreed. You let the awkward silence stew between the two of you for a bit before you spoke once more. “We both have classes until 4 pm today and then I have some work for the ball to do…are you free tomorrow night?”

“I think so, but why?” he asked, skeptically.

“So we can take care of the first rule, your makeover,” you replied.

Jihoon grimaced. “Okay, meet me in front of my house at 6 pm tomorrow,” he said, getting up and stuffing his hands in his pockets before leaving for his class. You attempted to finish what was left of your coffee and head off to your next class as well.

The next day at 6 pm, like promised, you were standing in front of a very familiar house from your childhood-Jihoon’s house. While you joined a sorority and lived on campus, Jihoon still lived here with his dad. Not only was it close to the university, but you figured some part of him didn’t want to leave his dad alone. 

You took a deep breath and walked up the front steps, ringing the doorbell. The door swung open, revealing Jihoon’s dad. “Well hello, Y/N. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you,” he said, opening the door further to let you step inside. 

“Hi Mr. Lee,” you said, standing in the foyer rather awkwardly. Honestly, the last time you stepped foot in this house was the day of Mrs. Lee’s funeral. It was also the last time you and Jihoon acted like friends.

“Ji should be down in a minute,” Mr Lee said, leaving you and going back into the kitchen. You looked down at your feet, rocking back and forth on your heels until you heard the creaking of the stairs. Jihoon looked like his usual self, wearing jeans and a band tee. You couldn’t help but smile. However, if the two of you dating were to seem real then he needed to fit in with the popular crowd. And that started with a look that aligned with that.

Jihoon cleared his throat, suddenly standing in front of you, and you realized you must have spaced out. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah, we should get going,” you said. He grabbed his car keys from the small table near the door before ushering you back through the front door and closing it behind him. He also opened the passenger door of the car for you, making you quirk an eyebrow at his actions. His only response was a shrug of the shoulders. 

After you were both settled in the car he asked, “So where to?”

“The mall,” you responded with an excited smile.

Jihoon groaned, “Are you trying to kill my reputation as a geek?” You blinked, surprised at his joking tone before letting out a giggle.

“Precisely,” you answered, laughing once more. Jihoon started the car, driving toward the demise of his geekdom, or at least the image of it.

After about fifteen minutes had passed, he pulled into the parking lot of the city mall, also known as the place where all the popular kids shopped and hung out. 

You walked into the large, store-filled building with Jihoon trailing behind you. Pausing at the entrance, you thought about what you needed to do first. “New outfits,” you pondered out loud. You looked over at Jihoon who was mashing his lips together and you grabbed the edge of his shirt, pulling him with you to the first clothing store.

You deposited him in the middle of the store, near the dressing rooms. Jihoon stood there almost in awe as you swirled around the store, picking up different combinations of pants and shirts to create outfits for him to try on. He was already exhausted, and he hadn’t even tried anything on yet.

After what felt like forever, you returned, holding up multiple outfits for him. He sighed, something he was doing a lot when he was with you. “The sooner you try them on, the sooner we can be done,” you said, trying to sound motivating. Lucky for you, he knew you were right and took the hangers of clothes from you. He trudged into the dressing room and shut the door behind him.

You made him come out after every outfit, much to his annoyance. You rather enjoyed it, clapping and smiling for most of the outfits. You were proud of yourself for picking things out that made him look the perfect mix of sophisticated and casual. You gathered all the outfits that worked and brought them up to the checkout counter, once again with Jihoon trailing behind you. 

Coming to stand next to you, Jihoon went to take his wallet out of his pocket, but you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Don’t worry about it. It was my idea for the makeover,” you said, handing money to the cashier as she placed his new clothes in a bag. She handed the bag to you.

“Are you sure?” Jihoon asked.

“I’m sure,” you confirmed, handing the bag of clothes over to him. As you pulled your hand away, your stomach let out a few grumbles. 

He let out an amused snort and said, “This place has a food court, right?” You nodded, and your stomach grumbled some more. “Let’s get some food then.” 

You led the way toward the center of the mall, where all the food smells were coming from and a few minutes later, the two of you sat across from each other at a table with pieces of pizza in front of you. Another memory with Jihoon crossed your mind as you chewed a piece of the cheesy slice. “You remember the time Seungkwan’s mom specially bought that only cheese pizza for him at your birthday party and when he fell asleep early, we ate it all?” you asked, a smirk gracing your face as you remembered your childhood antics.

“He was so mad. He didn’t talk to us for like a week and then hid his pizza the next time there was a party,” Jihoon laughed. It grew silent again after that, not exactly an awkward silence but not a comfortable one either. You were nearly done with your pizza when Jihoon asked another question. “This makeover doesn’t include other things, like cutting my hair or something?” 

You looked up at him. You looked at his slightly shaggy black hair and his bangs that lightly brushed over his forehead. You didn’t know what possessed you, but you reached forward and grazed you fingered through the ends of his hair. Your eyes locked and instead of the growling it had done earlier, your stomach did flip flops. You panicked slightly and abruptly pulled your hand away.  “No, I don’t think we need to change anything else..” you said, looking down at the table.

Before things could get weirder, you two finished eating and left the mall with your mission accomplished. 

The car was quiet as it sat in the driveway of your sorority and Jihoon wondered why you hadn’t taken your seatbelt off to get out of the car yet. You were struggling, debating whether you wanted to tell him something that you had thought about telling him for ages. What better time than to say it now, a day when you spent the most time with him than you had in years? 

“Listen, Jihoon…” you started in a bit of a solemn tone. He turned to look at you. “When your mom got sick, I just didn’t know what to do or how to feel. Then at her funeral, I wasn’t sure how to comfort you or even if I could. And then you started getting in trouble at school and hanging out with other people. I’m just…I’m sorry.” 

Jihoon gave a wry smile after listening to your whole blurted speech. “It’s okay, I get it,” he said. “I didn’t know what to do or how to feel either, and then eventually we became…enemies sorta?” 

You nodded. “How about we be, uh, frenemies now, I guess?”

He snorted at that. “Frenemies,” he agreed.

Eventually, you took off your seatbelt and opened the car door. Before you fully shut it, you peeked your head in to remind Jihoon of your next plans. “Remember, we should be seen together at the football game tomorrow and then at the diner with my friends after.” 

He cringed but said, “Okay, see you tomorrow then,” and you shut the car door before watching him pull out of the driveway.

A few hours before the football game you mentioned to Jihoon that you were in the journalism room with Jennie, Miyeon, and a few other girls who were part of the ball planning committee. You were trying to finalize the theme so that you could get started on getting the decorations. The ball was held at the same place every year, so you didn’t have to worry about that, at least. Everyone was set on their own idea for the theme, and no one could come to a decision, making you massage your temples in frustration. 

You were really regretting not grabbing that coffee before this meeting when the very thing you wanted appeared in front of you. A iced coffee was sat in front of you and you looked up to find Jihoon, looking nonchalant with his hands in his pockets like always. “Thanks. How did you know I was here?” you asked, surprised.

He shrugged. “I was here working in the editing room on something with Seungkwan and Wonwoo and saw you were still here. I thought you could probably use the caffeine.” You squinted at him before slowly taking a drink of the coffee, wondering if he had some sort of other motive. Then he leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “I’m just trying to make it look like we didn’t, you know, suddenly go from hating each other to dating. So, just go with it.”

Of course, there it was. He couldn’t have really just thought to bring it to you for no reason at all other than just because. You were supposed to be fake dating starting today, so he needed to make it look true. 

Arguing between Jennie and Miyeon brought you back to reality, and you sighed. “Guys!” you snapped, making them both stop midargument. “Look, it’s almost time for the game and we should be there. Let’s try and come to an agreement by next week. If that’s not possible, then I’ll be making the final decision, by myself,” you said. Miyeon looked surprised at your unusual forcefulness while Jennie just looked, well annoyed. 

You grabbed what was left of the coffee Jihoon brought you and him by the arm. “We should get over to the stadium,” you said and left the room with the others, wondering what was up with you, or more importantly you and him. 

“Okay, chill,” Jihoon said, pulling his arm back from you once you were in the hall.

“Sorry,” you said, letting him pull his arm back. You looked up at him, finally noticing that he was also wearing one of the outfits you had picked out the day before. You smiled at him.

“What?” he asked, wondering why the heck you were smiling at him like a weirdo in the middle of the hallway.

“I didn’t think you would be wearing the clothes yet,” you responded.

“I thought that was the deal? Now come on, let’s watch some stupid game and start this dating thing in front of your friends.” Jihoon grabbed your hand, leading you down the hall and out the door to head to the football stadium. Why was your heart feeling funny?

An hour later, Jihoon was sitting next to you in the bleachers complaining in your ear about how “all a football game is, is an excuse for dudes to touch other dudes' butts.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Go, Fight, Win!” A chant had started in the stadium and was gaining more people with it. After about the third round of the chant, you joined, smirking at Jihoon. He looked at you chanting with your other friends that sat nearby and shook his head. You nudged him, smiling like a maniac. 

Rolling his eyes, he finally joined with a monotone, “Go, Fight, Win!” and a half-hazard fist pump in the air. Then something happened. Watching the game, feeling the excitement of the crowd, and seeing you sitting next to him, enjoying yourself; he thought maybe this wasn’t so bad, fun even. Next thing he knew, as the chant ended he was taking turns shouting insults at the refs with Mark and high-fiving him. 

You looked at him. It was peculiar. All that fuss and now he was fitting in like he had been a part of the group from the beginning. You couldn’t help but think that it could have been this way all along, as if you and Jihoon never had been enemies. 

After the game, you and Jihoon made an official new couple appearance at the diner your friends often frequented after games. You had barely sat down in the group booth with your food when Jennie pounced. “So after seeing you two together twice today, I need to ask. Are you two like a thing now?” she asked, pointing between the two of you. You nodded. Jennie gave a look of distaste. “How on earth did that happen?” 

“So, remember the night at Mingyu’s party when Johnny and I broke up and I got drunk, you called me a designated driver? Well, Jihoon had also called Wonwoo and was in the car too. It just sort of happened?” you explained. None of that was technically wrong at all, that was what happened. You just left out the part about the drunken phone call later and you know, the fact that it was fake. 

Jennie looked over at Jihoon, who had his mouth full of fries. “Yeah, pretty much,” Jihoon confirmed with his mouth full and Jennie gave a slightly disgusted look. Seeming satisfied with that answer, Jennie left it alone and conversation flowed around the table. Mark, Mingyu, and Jihoon were debating things about a video game and you found yourself smiling once again at the fact that they seemed to be getting along well.

Yet, your smile fell when you looked at the other side of the table to see Johnny and his new girlfriend making out. You didn’t know why, but tears were gathering at the corners of your eyes. “I’ll be right back, bathroom,” you mumbled. Jihoon heard the tone in your voice and the sheen in your eyes and was pulled from his video game conversation. He immediately saw what likely upset you, and decided he needed to do something about it when you came back.

In the bathroom, you splashed water on your face and hoped that would help regain your composure. You took a few deep breaths and made sure there was no trace of your sudden tear-up before heading back out to the table. As you sat back down next to Jihoon, he asked “Everything okay, babe?” He wrapped an arm over your shoulders pulling you close to him and placed a peck on your forehead. 

Babe? Your brain malfunctioned and you were frozen at Jihoon’s side. “Y/N….” he hissed in your ear and you broke from your stupor. “Oh, sorry. Yes, I’m good,” you answered. He must be doing this for show, to make it really look like you were dating and to make Johnny jealous, right? It had to be that, of course.

“So, you’re friends with DD Wonwoo, right?” Mark was asking Jihoon now.

“Yeah, we are friends. And it’s Wonwoo, not DD Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo,” he answered and you could hear irritation starting in his voice.

“Cool, you think he’d be down to be the designated driver for all our parties? We’ll pay.” Jihoon’s body tensed at the question.

“Okayyyyy,” you said the minute Mark finished his sentence, getting up and pulling Jihoon out of the booth with you. “It’s getting late and I’m tired. We’ll see you guys later,” you rushed out before dragging Jihoon out of the diner with you and leaving what was left of your food on the table.

“What the hell was that? Wonwoo has probably saved the lives of half those people in there and what? They just want to continue getting drunk off their rockers and think throwing money at him is compensation for that?” Jihoon was fuming. He was pacing back and forth in the parking lot, tugging his hand through his hair. 

“Jihoon…” you started. 

“Who do they think they are? Do they have no integrity? Did they trade their brains for being popular?” He continued to rant.

“Jihoon!” you said again, sharper this time.

“What?!” he shouted and you flinched slightly.

You didn’t know why, but you felt the urge to comfort him and calm him down. And to apologize even. You came up next to him, brushing his hand with yours, and said, “I’m sorry.” Jihoon’s breathing calmed down and his eyes met yours. “Endure it for me, please? I promise you and Wonwoo can do something mean to him the next time he’s drunk, okay?” you said. 

Jihoon cracked a smile at that. “Fine…” he responded and stalked over to the car so he could get the two of you back home.

You and Jihoon had made appearances at a few other things during the week, but as Friday approached there was actually one you were looking forward to the most. It was starting to get warmer, which meant some days were spent soaking up the sun at the river.

The ball’s committee had also taken your previous threat about choosing the theme on your own seriously and had finally come to a consensus. The theme was Moments in Time and you were looking forward to downtime with your friends before having to plan more for the ball. Maybe you were looking forward to downtime with Jihoon too. 

This time you were all riding with Mingyu in his jeep, floats and picnic supplies strapped to the utility bar on top of the vehicle. He had come to pick you up with everyone else in the car but Jihoon and he would be picked up last. Which meant that when Mingyu honked at Jihoon’s house, the only seat left in the car was in the backseat, squished in the middle next to you.

Squeezing in next to you, you became immediately aware of his bare legs pressing against your own. He was in the swim trunks you had picked out for him and a t-shirt, already prepared for the day's activities. “Ouch,” you said as he accidentally pinched your arm between him and the seat. 

“I’m sorry, is this better?” Jihoon asked, moving his arm over your shoulders so that you could settle next to him. 

You swallowed down the butterflies that were now becoming a common occurrence when you were with him. You were still doing everything you could to ignore them. It was just the proximity and situation making you feel that way. You didn’t actually like him. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

You didn’t dare speak words out loud, afraid it would come out garbled or as a squeak. You just nodded in response, the warming of your cheeks still threatening to give you away. Throughout the entire drive to the river, you were painfully aware of how much his body was touching yours.

When Mingyu pulled into the parking lot of the River Park, you nearly flung yourself out of the car causing both Jihoon and Jennie to look at you like you were insane. As the others got out of the car, you moved your attention to retrieving your things from the back. You grabbed your bag, which held a swim towel, sunscreen, and a few snacks.

More bags were grabbed, leaving the trunk area empty while Mark and Mingyu worked on getting the other things down from the rack on the roof. You waited until everything had been taken before walking down the path that led to the larger bank of the river. The area was a little rocky but many of the rocks were big enough to lay blankets and towels on. 

You spotted one big enough for multiple people to spread out on and it was also close enough to the river itself, which would make it easy to get in and out of the water. It was decided the girls would take the spot you found and the boys would hang out on the next one over. You spread your towel out, setting your bag near the front and slipping your sandals off on the other end to weigh it down before settling down on it in a cross-legged position.

Jennie and Miyeon put their things out next to you, while Jihoon was helping Mark and Mingyu set their chairs out on the other rock. You leaned backward on your hands, enjoying the sun on your face while chatting about things every once in a while with Jennie and Miyeon. You had tuned them out a little when Miyeon started talking about Mark’s sexual habits, comparing them with things Jennie’s many partners had done. Not only did you not want to know those things about Mark, but you didn’t really have anything to contribute since you and Jihoon obviously weren't on that level.

“Y/N? What about you and Jihoon?” Miyeon asked, bringing your attention back to the conversation. 

“Well….it’s a secret,” you answered, trying to be as elusive as possible so you didn’t have to try and come up with more lies than needed.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Jennie goaded. “You cleaned Jihoon up so nicely, I'm sure you’ve had a piece of that.”

You looked at your best friend in annoyance. “Jihoon is a private person, I’d rather not discuss our sex life,” you responded. Miyeon seemed to understand but the look on Jennie’s face was like she took your response as a challenge.

The boys were having a similar conversation over at their rock, with Mingyu bragging about his latest endeavors. Jihoon didn’t really understand the need to boast about the subject as if it were a competition. “But what about Y/N, though?” Mingyu asked, looking over at Jihoon.

“What about her?” Jihoon questioned.

“She’s hot. You’d be stupid not to get a little ‘something, something’ while dating her,” Mingyu continued.

Jihoon narrowed his eyes, “Even if I have, Y/N has feelings too and I’m not going to divulge her sex life without her permission.” 

“Okay, dude. I was just trying to make conversation,” Mingyu surrendered, putting his hands up as a white flag. 

Mark took that as a sign for him and Mingyu to grab some floaties and go hang out in the river. Jihoon had brought his walkman and slipped on the headphones, going into his own little music world. Miyeon and Jennie had grown quiet now and were tanning behind you.

After scooting forward on your towel, you stuck your feet in the cool river water and let yourself relax a bit. You looked over to find Mark and Mingyu having a war on the floaties, both trying to push the other off and into the water. You shook your head at their antics and moved your feet back and forth in the water, creating a calming effect for yourself.

You weren’t sure how long you were all hanging out there but eventually Mingyu mentioned that you should all get home and you started packing things up. You looked over to find Jihoon gone from his previous spot.

Your eyes wandered around the river bank area and you finally spotted him, playing with two younger kids. “Oh noooo, you got me,” you heard him exclaim in mock upset. The two kids were squirting him with water from the super soakers they each had, both giggling the more exaggerated Jihoon sounded. 

He moved, chasing them around and getting revenge with his own super soaker. You couldn’t help but smile at the pure joy you saw on his face as he played with them. He looked so at ease with them. You thought that maybe you really were starting to fall for him, but if you were then you couldn’t keep up this fake dating ruse. You promptly shook the thoughts from your head. 

“Come on Captain Kangaroo, our ride is leaving,” you shouted across the bank. He looked up at your voice and shot you a devastatingly adorable smile that showed off his dimples. He gave the water gun back to the kids and he ruffled their hair, telling them he had fun. 

He jogged to where you were, saying “Okay, let’s get going.” He picked up his things from the rock he and the boys were on earlier and the two of you headed back up the path to Mingyu’s jeep. All the items you had brought had been put back in the trunk and everyone was just waiting for you and Jihoon so you could head back home. You two were squished against each other again, in a similar position as on the way there. However, you weren’t paying attention to that part as much now that the scene of him playing with the kids earlier kept replaying in your head. Before you knew it, you all had been dropped off at your respective residences and it was time to settle down for the evening. 

Jihoon had just walked in the door when his dad appeared holding the house phone. “Ah, good timing. Jihoon just came in, Seungkwan. Here,” he said, holding the phone out for Jihoon to take. 

“Hey, Kwan. What’s up?” Jihoon said into the phone, bringing it up the stairs to his room with him. 

“The Pixies are playing at the bar tomorrow night. Come with Seokmin, Wonwoo, and I,” Seungkwan said.

“I don’t know. I think one of Y/N’s friends is having a party that we are supposed to go to.”

Seungkwan sighed heavily. “I wasn’t going to bring this up, but you’ve changed. You used to hang out with us, you know, your best friends, all the time and now you're always with Y/N and her group of populars. Are we not good enough for you anymore, Jihoon?” 

“Jesus, Seungkwan. No, I haven’t changed. I don’t like hanging out with them, I’m just there to make Y/N happy and somewhat get along with them.” Jihoon explained, annoyance tingeing his voice. 

“Whatever you say,” Seungkwan gave a flippant response.

“Tell you what, I’ll talk to Y/N and see if we can come with you guys to the concert instead. Okay?” Jihoon compromised.

“Fine, let me know later,” Seungkwan conceded.

“Okay, bye.” Jihoon hung up the phone and rubbed his hands over his face. He didn’t think he was changing at all. He wasn’t fitting in with that crowd, was he? He was only pretending so that you two could fake date, right? 

Jihoon picked the cordless phone back up from the bed where he flung it after saying goodbye to Seungwan and dialed your number.

“Hello?” your voice sounded from the other end.

“Hey,” Jihoon said.

“Jihoon? You usually don’t call me first,” you mentioned.

“I know, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay…” you responded, a little confused.

“I know we are supposed to go to another party tomorrow but do you think we could do something with my friends instead? I feel like we only do things with your friends,” he complained.

You let out a rush of air. “Okay,” you agreed.

“Okay?” Jihoon asked, surprised you agreed that easily.

“Yeah, you’re right. And it seems weird for a couple to hang out with only one group of friends. Plus, they used to be my friends too…” you trailed off.

“Alright, then there’s a band we follow playing at a bar we go to. Seungkwan invited us and both Wonwoo and Seokmin will be there too. I can come get you at 5 pm tomorrow,” he told you.

“Sounds good. Hey, today was kind of nice wasn’t it?” you asked, a smile on your face as you remembered.

“Yeah, it was kind of nice,” Jihoon admitted and you both hung up the phone.

Even though it was a Saturday afternoon, Jihoon found himself on campus in the broadcasting room. Seungkwan and Wonwoo were there earlier too but Jihoon wanted to finish editing the music video they had been working on. They had gone to get lunch and would be back later. 

It wasn’t that he was in a real hurry to finish it exactly, but he tended to immerse himself in his projects when he felt unsettled about something. He wasn’t even sure what he was specifically feeling weird about. Was it the fact that he really seemed to be getting along with your friends? Or was it that his heart seemed to speed up every time he caught your eyes yesterday?

All that could be heard in the room was the clicking of the mouse as he edited, thoughts swirling in his head. He was so distracted that he didn’t even realize that Wonwoo and Seungkwan had come back and that it was three hours later. He was brought back to reality as Seungkwan snapped his fingers in front of his face, literally snapping him out of whatever trance he was in. “Hellooooo, Jihoon,” Seungwan said, trying to get his attention. 

“Oh, sorry, Kwan,” Jihoon responded and turned around in the computer chair he was sitting in. 

“We should probably leave so we can all get ready for the concert tonight with Seok,” Wonwoo mentioned.

“Did you ask your girlfriend? Are you coming?” Seungkwan asked with a hint of bitterness.

“Actually, yeah. Y/N was kind of excited about it, so we’ll be there,” Jihoon said, ignoring Seungkwan’s tone.

Rather than getting into another heated discussion about whether Jihoon was acting like himself or not, Seungkwan and Wonwoo left and so did Jihoon after finishing the last bit of video editing. He went back home to get ready in another outfit you had chosen that day at the mall before going to pick you up. A few hours later, he was waiting in the car outside your dorm like he had multiple times before.

Jihoon drummed his fingers on the steering wheel along with the beat of the song that was on the radio as he waited for you. He was pretty into it and didn’t see when you had come out of the house. You grinned as you slowly approached the car. Jihoon had been into music when you were younger and it was nice to know he truly hadn’t changed much despite everything that happened. “Okay drummer boy, I’m here. We should leave,” you said, making him jump slightly at your voice before he unlocked the passenger side for you to get in.

“So what band are we going to see?” you asked when Jihoon had pulled out onto the road that would take you to the bar.

“The Pixies. Wonwoo found them one time when he was DD’ing and went to pick Seokmin up at the bar one time. They showed Seungkwan and me the next time they played and we liked them too, so we try to catch them every time they play there.” Jihoon explained and you could tell how much he liked the band.

“Hmm, okay. Well I’m excited to hang out with you guys, to see Seungkwan, and to get to know Wonwoo and Seokmin even more,” you said and you really were. You wanted to catch a glimpse of what Jihoon had been like for the period of time you didn’t know him. He hummed in acknowledgment. It was quiet for a few minutes before you spoke again. “Hey, do I..look okay? I’ve actually never been to this kind of thing before..” you asked, feeling a little nervous.

Jihoon looked a little surprised, but then again seeing a girl punk rock band at a hole-in-the-wall bar was not exactly your scene. Eventually, he scanned your outfit, taking in the dark jeans and nice shirt you were wearing. “Yeah, you look nice,” he responded. He was probably just being polite but you noticed he was also wearing something similar, making you wonder why you spent so much time trying to find the right outfit in the first place. 

He pulled into the parking lot of the bar and parked next to a car that was familiar to you at this point, Wonwoo’s. You followed behind him as he walked into the bar and scanned the area for his friends. “Jihoon! Y/N!” you heard someone shout over the band that was already playing. You walked with Jihoon to where Seungkwan had shouted from, in the middle of a crowd standing somewhat near the stage. It got louder the closer you got to where Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Wonwoo were.

“Hey, boys!” you greeted them over the music. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Seungkwan said when you got closer. Wonwoo gave a small wave and Seokmin flashed a smile.

“I’m going to grab some drinks from the bar. Want anything?” Jihoon asked you all.

“Martini for me, please,” Seungkwan said.

“Suprise me,” came Seokmin’s response.

“I’m driving, of course, so just club soda?” Wonwoo asked.

Jihoon looked over at you, waiting for your order. “Rum and coke?” you asked. Jihoon did not expect that from you. He figured you’d want something more fancy like Seungkwan wanted.

“Okay, be back soon then,” Jihoon said and he disappeared into the crowd.

You turned your attention to the stage in front of you that had since grown quiet, guessing that the band that was playing when you walked in was the opener for who you were really here to see. You were making small talk with the three boys while waiting for the main event and for Jihoon to come back. As you had noticed before, Wonwoo was quiet but funny and had quite a knack for video editing. Seokmin was bright, adding a lightness to their group. You talked with Seungkwan about your junior high days when you, Jihoon, and he made up a trio. You remembered those days fondly and definitely noticed how wary Seungkwan was when talking about that part of your shared past.

Before you could address that, the crowd started cheering and colored lights were starting to shine on the stage as a group of girls came on stage with their instruments. They looked amazing. The girl in front had her hair teased in a high pony and wore silver pants that matched the glittering tank top of the girl drummer behind her. She picked up a guitar and started playing a riff that must have been from one of their well-known songs, judging by the howling in the crowd. As the song continued to play, you realized you liked it. The punk aspect was not something you would not have normally picked, but it made you feel something.

Jihoon was still waiting for your drinks over at the bar and was turned around to watch the stage. His eyes were automatically drawn to where you were, finding you with your eyes glued to the stage and complete joy written on your face. He watched as you got closer to the stage, starting to jump up and down with the music. He honestly couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Here you go,” the bartender said from behind him, setting the drinks on the bar top. Jihoon grabbed them all, balancing them in his hands and set off back into the crowd with an amused smile on his lips.

He wove back through all the people, stopping to give his friends their drinks before moving forward in the crowd to where you were standing. The song was finishing as he reached you and you screamed and clapped for the band, making Jihoon laugh at how much you were actually enjoying this. He tapped you on the shoulder and you turned, the look on your face probably the happiest he had seen recently.

“Your drink,” Jihoon said, passing the glass to you.

“Thank you,” you said, taking it from him and giving it a light sip before turning your attention to the next song. You began bouncing up and down to the beat of the new song, as much as you could without spilling your drink. Jihoon thought you were cute like this. 

He stood there enjoying the music with you, his own drink in hand until you heard Wonwoo let out an “Ah, shit,” somewhere behind you. 

“What’s wrong?” Jihoon questioned. 

“She’s here,” Wonwoo responded.

“Who?” you asked, confused. 

You followed Jihoon’s line of sight before you spotted who and he spoke her name. “Shayla.” She had a guy hanging off her, which you could only assume was the one she cheated on Jihoon with. You watched as they acted all lovey-dovey, making Jihoon look positively miserable. Her eyes crossed paths with Jihoon and you could only think of one thing to do, you kissed him. 

You made out with him to be exact, tongue and all. You couldn’t bear how hurt he looked, couldn’t stand the fact that Shayla was looking at him like she still cared. Jihoon didn’t know how he should respond other than to let you continue kissing him. You kept sneaking peeks at Shayla out of the corner of your eye as you kept making out with him. Eventually, Shayla looked away with a bit of a sneer and pulled her boy toy to another area of the bar. 

You pulled away from Jihoon and said, “Sorry, I was just returning the favor.” He had rescued you in a similar way, albeit a tamer way, that night at the dinner when your ex was there. You took it a little further than intended but you were just making it even, weren’t you? 

“Uh, thanks?” Jihoon responded, a light blush warming his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. This was not a reaction you expected from him or even one you thought he could have. It was actually pretty adorable. You tried not to think about it. You didn’t see it because you were too focused on the boy you weren’t supposed to like, but Wonwoo and Seungwan shared a look. 

“They are about to play the next song,” you said, trying to redirect attention back to the band and the stage. Jihoon only nodded, not knowing what else to say after that. You let the music take away thoughts of whatever feelings you might be starting to have for your fake boyfriend and by the time the concert was over, you had buried them deep in your mind once again.

In the parking lot of the bar, you said goodbye to Seungkwan, Wonwoo, and Seokmin before you got in the car with Jihoon to go home. It was a little awkward again before Jihoon turned the radio on. (You Drive Me) Crazy by Britney Spears came on and he groaned before he reached over to change the station. “Aw come on, Ji. Leave it there,” you whined before starting to sing along to the song. He grimaced at you but pulled his hand away from the dash, leaving the song on. “You drive me craaaazzzyyy, I just can’t sleep!” you sang loudly and badly on purpose. You poked your elbow into Jihoon’s side, trying to get him to sing with you as you continued with the lyrics.

After a few harder nudges Jihoon belted out, “Baby, thinking of you keeps me up all night”. You gasped, putting your hand over your mouth. You didn’t think you’d actually get him to sing it with you. He continued driving with the two of you singing the rest of the song and giggling like maniacs, Jihoon showing a smile genuine enough that the dimples you only saw one other time appeared. You found yourself having fun more often with Jihoon and spending time with him was beginning to feel more and more natural, like you never parted ways to begin with.

Once again, you found yourself in the journalism room working on things for the ball. More specifically, the decorations. This time you were by yourself, there was yet another party happening tonight and the others left you so they could get Jennie’s house ready since she was hosting this time. Honestly, you didn’t mind and felt like you could get more things done without Jennie’s constant nitpicking. 

You were looking at a few different options for string lights when someone you didn’t expect to see walked in. Shayla. “Um, Mrs. Rathburn asked me to bring you the posters you had printed from the big office printer,” she said, showing the large posters she held in her arms.

“Oh, thanks for bringing them. You can set them over there,” you responded, gesturing toward the bigger table next to you. Shayla set them where you indicated and started toward the door but hesitated, turning back around. She looked like she wanted to say something to you. “Was there anything else?” you prompted.

She pondered for a moment before saying,” He seems happier with you.” You were sure what to say when she continued. “He never wanted to go places with me, never wanted to stop by the lab to see me, not the way he does with you.” 

The way she said it struck a chord with you. You knew she was a medical science major and worked in the chem lab a lot but it didn’t occur to you before and obviously, she didn’t know either. “He didn’t tell you about his mother, did he?” you asked. The confused look on Shayla’s face confirmed your suspicions. “His mother died when we were younger…of cancer. So you can imagine why he wouldn’t want to be around medicine and labs.”

Now she had a shocked look on her face, mixed with something like pity. “I didn’t know. Well, I hope he continues to be happy with you,” she said as she turned back around and walked out of the room. For once, you felt a little sorry for Shayla but fake or not, Jihoon was with you now. You sighed and got up from the chair you were sitting in, pulling the posters closer to you so you could examine them to make sure they had been printed properly. They looked good and you were glad that nothing was wrong with them. 

A few minutes later, Jihoon walked through the same classroom door that Shayla walked out of. “Hey, how's it going in here?” he asked casually. 

You shrugged, “It’s going. But, what are you doing here? You didn’t bring me coffee this time.” You grinned, enjoying being able to give him a hard time now without it turning into a big deal. 

“Wow, see if I ever bring you coffee again..” he teased back. “Anyway, I was working with Seungkwan on some AV stuff for the school news show and thought I’d stop by. It was strange though, I passed by Shayla in the hall and she was acting oddly nice to me.” 

“Huh, weird,” you said. There was no way you were going to tell him that you told her about his mother. He must have had a reason for not telling her, although some part of you was relieved he hadn’t.

“So, how do you feel about having dinner at my house before we go to Jennie’s party? My dad invited you. I think he’s noticed how close we’ve gotten again,” he asked, looking a little sheepish.

“I’d like that,” you responded, the corners of your lips turning up at the thought of Mr. Lee making Jihoon ask you over. You gathered all the things you were working on, organizing them so they made sense when you went to work on them again and left the room to go home with Jihoon.

You had really only been just inside of the door of Jihoon’s house since you reconnected. It felt weird going past the dining room threshold as you followed him into the kitchen, even though as a child you had been in every room in the house. It was a reminder of how things truly had changed after his mom died. 

Yet, the sight of Mr. Lee in the kitchen and the familiar smell of his famous Yangnyeom chicken transported you right back to those times when you and Jihoon would get called in for dinner when you had been playing outside or doing homework together. Mr. Lee turned around after plating the chicken. “Glad you could join us, Y/N! I had to practically beg Jihoon to ask you,” he beamed, walking into the dining room to set the large plate on the table.

“Thank you for inviting me Mr. Lee,” you said, politely as you took a seat in one of the chairs at the dining table. 

“At least I didn’t have to drag you two inside from the treehouse,” he said with a laugh and you found it ironic that he remembered that as well. 

Your eyes shifted to sliding doors on the other side of the dining room, looking out into the backyard to see if the treehouse still existed. “It’s still there..” you murmured as you made out the familiar wood walls poking out the only large tree still in the yard.

“Of course it is! Jihoon kept it up all these years and made sure no nail or board came out of place,” Mr. Lee exclaimed rather proudly. You looked over at Jihoon who was doing his best not to look at you. You thought it would have been destroyed by now. Jihoon’s actions lately were already confusing, but the fact that he had preserved the treehouse all this time confused you even more. 

The rest of dinner went well, it was comforting that it felt almost the same as it did when you were young. Well, minus a major person, but you tried your best not to think about that. You and Jihoon were helping Mr. Lee clean up when he glanced at the clock on the wall. “We should think about heading to the party now,” he said.

“I got the rest of this. You crazy kids go have fun at the party,” Mr. Lee said, basically telling the two of you to skedaddle already.

“Don’t wait up,” Jihoon joked, following you out of the kitchen and back into the front room.

Since you were busy enough today, you chose an outfit when you got ready this morning that would translate well from everyday to party. It’s not like you were the host or like it was that special of an event, plus you were willing to bet something would be spilled on it by the end of the night anyway. 

“Let me change into something more suitable and I’ll be right back,” Jihoon said to you. You nodded and sat on the bottom of the stairs to wait for him. Five minutes later, he came down the stairs looking effortless and amazing at the same time. Once again, making it hard for you to ignore the ever-annoying butterflies that filled your stomach. 

“Let’s get going, we don’t want to be late,” you mumbled, turning your attention back to the front door.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived and you narrowly avoided being mowed over by Mingyu and Mark playing some sort of drunk game involving a soccer ball the minute you and Jihoon walked into Jennie’s house. You took Jihoon’s hand in yours as you wove through people, telling yourself it was so that you didn’t lose him in the crowd but you couldn’t help but feel like they fit together.

You made your way into the center of the house where more things seemed to be going on when you caught the sound of the familiar voices of your friends in the backyard. Jennie was already drunk, laughing loudly as she swayed her hips to the music blasting from speakers on either side of the yard. “There you guys areeeeeeee,” Jennie exclaimed, her words sounding slightly slurred which gave a bit of an indication of how much alcohol she’d had so far. 

You stifled a laugh as Miyeon gave you a look that essentially said “help me” as she lightly sipped on the drink she had while keeping an eye on Jennie. Mark suddenly appeared, without Mingyu this time. “Yoooo, Jihoon. Come be my partner, Mingyu got too drunk and I need someone who actually has hand-eye coordination,” he said, trying to rope Jihoon into whatever hair-brained game they had been playing. 

Mark dragged him off before he could protest, leaving you with just the girls. “You know, I wasn’t sure about Jihoon in the beginning, but the makeover he had really suits him well. If you weren’t dating him, I would be all over that,” Jennie babbled, the multiple drinks in her system acting like an unwanted truth serum. You felt a hint of animosity toward her, and you had to keep telling yourself that you shouldn’t be. You weren’t dating for real, but in principle, it was since nobody else knew that. 

To make it easier to resist the urge to strangle Jennie, you excused yourself and went to get a drink from the bar on the other side of the patio that you assumed Jennie paid to be there. Walking up to the bartender, you ordered something that tasted good but wouldn’t get you blasted immediately. A few seconds wait and you thanked the bartender, taking your drink from him. You turned around, maybe to go find where Mark dragged Jihoon off to when you found yourself face to face with your ex.

“Oh, Y/N. I was actually looking for you,” Johnny said. He was just passing by but he was clearly looking for someone. You, apparently. 

“Um, okay…didn’t you come with your new girlfriend?” you asked, confused as to why he was looking for you when he seemed so infatuated with the girl the last time you had seen him.

“Well, that’s kind of why I was looking for you. Let’s find a quieter place to talk,” he motioned to some chairs that sat out off the side of the patio where fewer people were milling around. You sat down in one and he sat in the one across from you.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” you questioned, not exactly interested but he did specifically seek you out.

“I know you are with Jihoon now, but I was wondering if I could take you to the dance?” Johnny asked, with what he thought might be a convincing smile on his face. You choked on your drink. He couldn’t be serious. The very thing you had wanted before everything got messy and he was asking you now?

“But what about your girlfriend?” you inquired.

“She broke up with me, said she found someone new,” he shrugged. You snorted. Ironic wasn’t it? She broke up with him for nearly the same reason he broke up with you.

“Once upon a time, all I ever wanted was for you to take me to the ball I planned. But you know what? I’m not the same person as I was all those months ago and I’m with Jihoon now. Go find some other poor sucker to go with you because I won’t,” you responded and you knew it was true. You weren’t the same person anymore. You could care less about being popular. All you cared about was being yourself. And being with Jihoon.

Johnny looked stunned, “Damn, Jihoon is a lucky guy.” You felt that was your cue to leave and you had to go to the bathroom anyway. So you left Johnny there and went inside to search for the restroom. You walked back into the house through the sliding door and were headed down the hall when you saw it, saw them. 

Jennie was talking with Jihoon when suddenly you saw her lips meet his. You didn’t know what was happening and your face crumpled. Immediately, you knew that the feelings you were trying to suppress for Jihoon couldn’t be covered up anymore. Jennie broke free of the kiss with a smirk, turning Jihoon around by his shoulders so that his eyes would meet yours. “Bitch,” you murmured, a sob trying to break free from your chest.

Jihoon’s eyes widened as they met yours. “Y/N, wait!” he shouted, a pleading tone bleeding into it. You didn’t want to hear it. This whole thing was fake anyway. You ignored him and stormed out the front door, not caring where you were going. You just needed out of there. Jennie’s house wasn’t that close to the dorm, but it didn’t matter. You wanted to walk anyway.

You did eventually make it back to the dorm, you didn’t know how long it took you and you didn’t care. Everything was ruined and you felt the most pathetic that you had ever been. You retreated to your room and the warmth of your bed, wanting to never leave it. You should have never come up with this idea if you knew it would turn out this way. You weren’t supposed to fall for your ex-best friend, your enemy.

Jihoon was also miserable, perhaps on a different and newfound level. He thought he was in a bad way when he broke up with Shayla, but it was nothing like the way he felt after Jennie tricked him. Nothing like the way his heart cracked when he saw your face and the way your chin trembled when you saw the kiss and nothing like when he called out to you, only for you to ignore him and walk out the door. 

He thought he might have loved Shayla when they were together, but he was so wrong. He loved you and it took losing you to finally realize it, to admit it to himself. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do now, but the most immediate solution was to numb the pain. He knew Wonwoo would come get him anyway, and so he drank. He drank a lot. Likely more than he ever had.

He drank so much that he didn’t even know how time moved forward and transported him to where he was now, outside, throwing his guts up in Jennie’s front garden. He must have called Wonwoo at some point, he most certainly didn’t remember doing it but Wonwoo was suddenly standing there in the yard, waiting to see if Jihoon’s stomach was done forcing out whatever contents were left. 

Wonwoo didn’t have much sympathy for his friend at this point. “How does it feel Jihoon? Being part of the popular crowd?” he mocked. 

“Shut up, Wonwoo,” Jihoon croaked, slowly getting up from his kneeling position in the grass to slowly tread toward Wonwoo’s car. Jihoon all but melted into the backseat once the two of them were both in the car, his head already starting to pound. 

“You really screwed up, you know,” Wonwoo said, once the car was on the way to Jihoon’s house. 

“How do you know what happened?” Jihoon mumbled the question

“You know how fast news travels around here,” he responded.

“Considering everyone was at the party, I’m not surprised.” Wonwoo slammed on the brakes, making Jihoon fall forward and smack his nose on the seat in front of him. “Ow, what the hell Wonwoo?!” he yelped, hands moving to his face to touch his now tender nose.

“Everybody was NOT there, Jihoon! Seungkwan and I weren’t there, Seokmin wasn’t there, so no, everybody was not at the party,” Wonwoo nearly growled. 

“Okay, sheesh. Everybody was not there,” Jihoon conceded, given his growing headache and the fact that Wonwoo so rarely yelled. 

“Get out,” Wonwoo said and Jihoon was about to protest when he looked out of the window to see that they had actually stopped outside his house. “Call me when you’ve decided to return back to being the friend I know.” 

Jihoon couldn’t respond, he didn’t have a decent answer for that. He just got out of the car, went into the house, and flopped face-first onto his bed. He did know that Wonwoo was right though, he royally fucked up. The only thing he could think about was talking to you, to see if there was a way to convince you of what truly happened with Jennie. 

He rolled back to his side, reaching his arm out to grab the phone from the nightstand. He didn’t know how late it was but prayed you’d still answer the phone. He punched in your number and waited as it rang and rang. He was just about to give up when a tired “hello?” answered. 

“Please let me explain,” Jihoon said, immediately. 

You sighed. “It doesn’t matter. It was crazy to think we could fake it this long, this is our easy out,” you responded, trying to keep your voice from breaking and giving you away. 

“What about the dance? That was the main goal of this whole thing,” he said. Jihoon knew that wasn’t why he wanted to keep this ruse going but it was all he could think to try.

“I’ll figure something out. Or maybe I won’t go at all. Let’s just go back to how things were before.” Tears were starting to slip down your cheeks now and you hung up the phone before Jihoon could hear the sob that left your chest.

After the party, days and weeks continued on but you and Jihoon were not the same. Jihoon spaced out often, going about his days in a trance. He even ignored Shaya’s renewed and constant advances on him. He didn’t want anyone else but you. Wonwoo had seen how depressed Jihoon was and took pity on him, letting everything that happened between the two of them that night go. You threw yourself into ball planning which was ironic considering you likely wouldn’t even be attending anymore and Jihoon spent more time editing in the broadcasting room, only being pulled out by his friends. 

You had all but stopped hanging out with all your “friends”, only working with them for the ball because you had to. Everything felt like a blur. You had confronted Jennie shortly after the night of the party, her only excuse being “I was doing you a favor.” Maybe in some way she really was, just not in the way she intended. Your relationship with Jihoon may have started out as a fake one but now your feelings were real and you needed to stop before they destroyed you both.

When the night of the ball came around, you found yourself in your dorm room with no date and crying once again. The dress you had picked out long ago to match the tux you had helped Jihoon pick out was hung on the back of your door, mocking you. Maybe you should go by yourself, it would be weird if the planner herself didn’t attend. You brushed the tears from your cheeks and shook your head. That was enough of that, crying and feeling sorry for yourself wouldn’t change anything.

Then your phone rang. “Hello?” you answered.

“Y/N? Hi,” spoke a voice that was vaguely familiar but not one you’d heard over the phone.

“Seungkwan?” you questioned.

“Yeah, it’s Seungkwan. Listen, I know you probably don’t have a date to the ball anymore and I think it would be a shame if you couldn’t go. You deserve to see your event finished so, how about I take you?” Seungkwan said.

For the first time since the night of the party, a genuine smile crossed your face. Seungkwan had always been the sweetest person you’d known, even after you all had parted ways as kids. “I’d like that,” you responded.

“Okay, cool. I can come pick you up in an hour. Will that be enough time to get ready?” he asked 

“Sure, see you soon,” you said, hanging up the phone and scrambling to start getting ready. That gave you an answer to your earlier thoughts of just going to the ball by yourself. You were much happier going with Seungkwan, someone you knew you’d have some fun with. You pulled your dress from where you had been glaring at it earlier, glad that it was no longer going to waste. You grabbed shoes that went with it from your closet and got ready as efficiently as you could.

You were smoothing out the bottom of your dress and making sure the last strands of your hair were in place when one of your dorm mates called up the stairs to let you know Seungkwan was there. You picked up the light sweater and small purse you had set out on a chair and walked down the stairs to meet Seungkwan. 

He smiled as he spotted you and said, “You look great.”

“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said back. His simple black tuxedo made him look handsome. You reached the bottom of the stairs and he pulled something out from behind his back, showing it to you.

“It was short notice, but this is for you,” Seungkwan said, holding out a pretty wrist corsage. 

You let out a pleased laugh and held out your wrist so that he could slip it on, the white rose simple but pretty. “Thank you, that was sweet of you.” 

“Of course, I can't let my best girl feel left out,” he said with a chuckle. 

Immediately you were thankful for at least one good thing that came out of all of this. You had a good friend in Seungkwan once again. “Let’s go,” you said and you headed to the dance.

Walking in the doors of the venue you rented, you took in everything. Seungkwan was right, you shouldn’t miss how everything you planned had come together. From the centerpieces on the tables to the twinkle lights winding around the beams in the ceiling, everything you had imagined and planned out. It looked perfect. There was only one thing missing, but there was nothing you could do about that anymore.

You and Seungkwan sat down for a little while at one of the tables, talking about different things and people watching before he asked you to dance. He got up from his seat, holding out his hand for you to take. You took it and he led you to the dance floor. Stopping at an empty spot toward the edge, he placed his hands on your back and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You began swaying to the music the DJ was playing. It was nice and comfortable but of course, it was only platonic with Seungkwan.

“Jihoon really likes you, you know,” he said eventually. You sighed, knowing this topic would come up eventually. Seungkwan cared about both of you. “And I know you like him too.” He continued, recounting how bleak the two of you had been in the past weeks.

“I know Seungkwan, but everything is all messed up now,” you said. 

“Well, now is your chance to fix it,” he suddenly said, looking up at something or rather someone.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“May I cut in?” A voice asked from behind you. You let out a small gasp. Jihoon?

Seungkwan’s hands left your back and he pressed a light kiss to your cheek, leaving you and Jihoon on the dance floor. You looked at Jihoon. He was wearing the tuxedo you picked out to match your dress and looked as handsome as ever. He approached you, gently placing his hands around your waist and you let your hands rest at the nape of his neck. Your fingers lightly brushed at the ends of his shaggy hair that you liked so much.

You danced a bit to the slow song that was on before you broke the tension between the two of you. “Why are you here, Jihoon?” you asked.

“Because I missed you. God, I missed you so much,” he blurted, pulling you closer to him. Your heart panged at his words. You missed him too and you knew that you didn’t want to pretend your feelings for him didn’t exist. 

“I missed you too,” you murmured.

“I’m so sorry about what happened with Jennie. I swear she tricked me but that’s not what matters. I like you, Y/N. I think I’ve always liked you, before everything got so messed up.” He was on a roll now, telling you all that was on his mind and everything he should have told you from the beginning when you both agreed to that stupid fake dating plan.

Your face broke out into a grin. “I like you, too.” Jihoon must have been holding his breath, because he let out a rush of air in relief at your response. “I asked Jennie why she did what she did and she told me she was doing us a favor. I guess in some way, she really did.”

Then Jihoon reached out a hand to cup your cheek, his eyes looking into yours before he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. There were no fireworks, but something much better as you kissed him back. Warmth. A warmth that radiated through your entire body and you couldn’t have imagined anything better. 

You broke away after a few minutes, becoming aware that several eyes were on the two of you. Specifically the eyes of Jennie, Johnny, Mark, Miyeon, and a few of the others. “Who are we making jealous now, Jihoon?” you laughed.

“Everyone,” was his response and he kissed you again, making everything around you disappear. 

“Wanna get out of here?” you asked.

“I have just the place in mind,” he answered, cheekily and the two of you left hand in hand.

After the dance, you came bursting through the gate to Jihoon’s backyard, giggling like you were little kids again. The only difference was now Jihoon kept pausing to kiss you every few minutes as he led you to the treehouse. He pulled you with him up the ladder and into the familiar house. Except that instead of just the pillows and the small table that you remember being there before, there were blankets and lit candles set out in the corners.

“Did you plan this?” you asked, suspicious.

“I had hoped?” he responded, innocently. 

You shook your head, “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I am very lucky.”

“If I knew you were going to be this cheesy-” He cut you off with another kiss and led you over to the blankets that were laid out in the middle of the wooden floor. He sat down, pulling you to sit with him. He initiated a make-out session that began innocently but was now starting to get heated. He leaned backward, laying back against the blankets and making you lay on top of him.

His kisses moved to your jaw and to your collarbone making you let out a gasp and thread your hands through his dark locks. All the pent-up feelings and chemistry that had built up between you was finally reaching a breaking point, in your childhood hangout no less. Your hands made work with his clothes, taking off his jacket and working on the buttons of his shirt. He pulled the straps of your dress down your shoulders when you finally managed to rid him of the annoying button-down.

To make it easier for him, you straightened your back so he could pull the entire thing up and over your head. You were left in just your underwear and Jihoon paused to look at you before taking off his dress pants. “You are gorgeous,” he whispered, pressing light kisses to your shoulders. You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of being loved on by him.

Soon you both had been rid of all remaining garments, leaving you completely naked and hands roaming each other's bodies. Jihoon’s length pressed against your thighs, making you moan at the skin contact and buck against him. He hissed in pleasure and bit his lip, the action increasing the arousal at your core. He moved to grind his head against your sensitive nub and you let out a whine. 

After a few minutes of that, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You needed him inside you. “Jihoon…” you breathed out.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Please,” you whimpered.

He reached over to his discarded pants to get the little foil packet from the pocket. He opened it and slid the condom over his cock with a hiss. He steaded your hips and ran his length through your folds a few times before he slowly slid into you, letting you adjust to his size.

“Fuck,” he let out a groan as your heat engulfed him. He began moving slowly within you. Your sacred childhood treehouse was now filled with lewd slaps of skin against skin and moans filled with pleasure. You established a rhythm that had you both slowly chasing your highs together. Your moans had turned to mewls as the coil in the pit of your stomach was stretching to its limit. 

“I’m close, Ji,” you whimpered. The use of Jihoon’s nickname drove him to the edge as well and he pumped into you that much harder. The coil snapped and you orgasmed, hard enough that your thighs shook. Your walls contracting around him made Jihoon hit his high as well. His hips stilled and he let out a groan, emptying his seed into the condom.

He slowly pulled out of you and you both collapsed next to each other on the blankets with heaving breaths. After a few minutes and your breathing had returned to normal, Jihoon turned to look at you, his head resting on his shoulder. “So, frienemies?” he asked with a chuckle. 

You reached out and smacked him in the chest. “Jihoon!”

“Ouch, I’m kidding. I know we are more than that. So much more than that,” he said, tugging you closer to him and leaving a kiss on your forehead. 

“Yes, absolutely more than that,” you agreed. Jihoon drove you crazy, but you came to the conclusion that you didn’t want it any other way.

©️wooahaeproductions

All works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works.

#kvanity #svthub #kbookshelf #ksmutsociety #caratwritersclub #that's so 90's collab #svt woozi #seventeen woozi #svt angst #svt fluff #svt smut #lee jihoon #svt jihoon #woozi fluff

[flurrys-creativity]

Quondam

Quondam (adj.) ~ belonging to some time long past; once but no longer

Pairing: Chwe Vernon (Seventeen) x GN!Reader; Genre: Jurassic Park AU, 90s AU, aquaintances to lovers/distant friends to lovers, Fluff, Angst; Rating: sfw, PG-15; Warnings: a boat crash, mentions of prehistorical animals, dangerous animals, mentions of possible deaths, reader falls down while running.. twice, Vernon being in moderate danger; Wordcount: 4.431; Collab: SVT 90s Collab by @mingsolo and @beomcoups

Summary: It should have been a fun weekend trip but after the boat got caught by a storm and crashed on one of the dinosaur islands, you got separated from the group. You nearly despaired until Vernon found you.

Your heart hammered inside your chest as you ran along the rocky beach. Tears streamed down your cheeks and blurred your vision, yet you didn’t slow down. The harsh wind from the open sea tousled your hair but you couldn’t care less about it. Same with the pain radiating throughout your whole body.

As you jumped over another boulder your footing slipped and you fell face first to the ground. Your whole body heaved for air, lungs burning inside your chest. A sob ripped through your throat. “I shouldn’t have joined them”, you whispered and pulled your limbs to your core, making yourself as small as possible.

Three days ago your friend Sorn dragged you on a small cruise among friends. What was supposed to be a vacation with lots of fun, turned sour the second the group had decided to head towards the Las Cinco Muertes - better known as Jurassic Park. Even though Ten, who had steered the cruise, promised to only round the archipelago without stopping to set a foot on the shore, none of the group had thought of the sudden weather changes.

None of them could have predicted the storm that turned strong enough for the yacht to go shipwreck.

You had no idea how long you had been in the freezing ocean. The current and the waves had made it nearly impossible to swim towards the nearest island you had seen from the yacht before the accident happened.

Even after those three days your clothes still hadn’t dried. You shivered involuntarily, the cold after two nights had finally seeped into your bones. You curled in on yourself even more. While you hadn’t encountered any dinosaurs yet, you had found footprints of a Smilodon - the whole reason you just ran for your life.

You inhaled shakily and gnawed on your lower lip, mind racing with thoughts. Without the others and without a chance of contacting authorities the dread and knowledge you might die here, finally settled in. You had no idea how many of your friends survived the accident and how many actually made it to the shore like you.

“Y/N?”

You blinked several times, trying to clear your vision before you turned your head to look at the person that called out to you. Despite your pain, you pushed yourself up and rubbed over your eyes with the back of your hand. “Vernon?”

He simply stared at you, without saying another word. His expression appeared stoic and unreadable to you. 

“Are you alone?” You asked and got up on your knees, ignoring the small rocks digging into your skin. The pain actually felt welcome and like an escape of this awkward silence.

“Hm.”

You hummed as well, looking down on the ground to avoid eye contact with him. Despite both of you being in the same friend group, you barely interacted with him. Vernon always seemed to be in his own world and rather closed off. Not that you were any different with your archaeology and palaeontology studies. Unless people were from the same field they rarely shared your passion.

Before the silence could stretch on, you stood up and dusted off your clothes. “We need to leave or find the others. Either way we’re not safe on this island.”

Vernon raised one eyebrow, questioning you without saying a word. 

You sighed deeply, wanting to shake your head but you focused on the issue at hand instead. You grabbed his elbow and pulled him into the direction he came from. “I found footprints of a Smilodon and-”

“A what?”

“A sabertooth tiger.”

Vernon’s face twisted in understanding, right before it turned into surprise and worry. 

Seeing his strong expressions, nearly made you giggle. If it weren’t for the situation though. “If this is the hunting ground of it, we have to leave immediately. I am pretty sure that we’re the easiest prey around here.” 

Vernon grimaced but followed you without any resistance. He quietly listened to you ramble about the prehistoric animal, fascinated by the knowledge you presented him.

“I only saw one set of footprints which indicates the researchers claiming Smilodons were no social predators are actually right. Honestly, if they wouldn’t be so dangerous, I’d love to observe or research them. There’s still so much that we don’t know!”

You stopped talking, realising you just dropped lots of information on him. You awkwardly glanced towards Vernon, trying to gauge his reaction. Usually people appeared bored or stopped listening but to your surprise he looked at you with interest. The apology you usually sputtered after a knowledge vomit about prehistoric animals got stuck in your throat.

You shook your head momentarily to clear your thoughts, deciding to go a different path instead. “We need to find a hideout.”

This time Vernon grabbed your wrist and pulled you along the foreign terrain. “I got a place.” Vernon didn’t say more afterwards, simply guiding you further and further away from the coast.

Soon enough some sort of cliff appeared in the distance, its steep edge looming into the grey sky. 

For just a second worry clouded your thoughts, fearing Vernon had found a cave that might even be the home to a prehistoric creature. Though the closer you came, you couldn’t see any opening in the stone wall.

Instead a small ledge protruded from the stone and right underneath it were parts of the ship that got washed ashore. 

“You carried all of these things here?”

Vernon glanced over his shoulder, upon your surprised question but only shrugged them and looked back ahead. He let go of your wrist after you reached the ledge.

While you stayed rooted in your place, you watched Vernon wander around and move stuff to the side. “I wasn’t able to start a fire so far. So we’re at least not a roasted meal for the tiger.” He looked up at you, his stare growing more and more intense as he waited for your response.

You made a grimace - barely able to pull off a smile at his weak joke. “I… yeah, nor a smoked meal, I guess.”

Vernon grinned at you, satisfied, and sat down on a piece of rubble. “You mentioned we needed to find the others.”

You sat down as well with a deep sigh. “I honestly don’t know if any of them even survived the crash but I mean I found you-”

“Technically I found you.”

You chuckled softly and shook your head. “So you found me and that gives me hope some of the others might be alive as well. It’s just. The more time passes the slimmer the chances of finding someone.”

Vernon frowned in thought, hiding his lower face behind his hand as he hummed.

You shivered involuntarily, the dread of being the only ones alive silently creeped through your mind. 

“How much do you know about these islands?” 

Your head snapped back up again. “Not much, to be honest. It’s some twisted version of science and research. There was Isla Nublar, several miles up north from the archipelago. That was the island to start it all, I guess. Then there’s Isla Sorna. As far as I know, it was for evolution purposes and to get more animals for the theme park. I don’t know much about the other four islands. I just assume they are for evolution too.”

“I thought they only researched dinosaurs.”

You scoffed and shook your head again. “If we were completely true to the name, they should have only researched dinosaurs from the Jurassic era. But here we are with animals from the Ice Age.”

“Do you think we’ll see a Mammoth?”

You shrugged with your shoulders, another shiver running through your whole body. “I don’t even know whether I’d wanna see any prehistoric animal.”

“Why not?” Vernon tilted his head, his eyes trained on your face. “Aren’t you studying these animals?”

“I am”, you nodded shortly before you sighed once again. “It’s just. What if everything I learned, everything I imagined them to be turns out to be wrong? I don’t want my little bubble to burst.”

“Ah.” Vernon nodded exaggeratingly in understanding before he turned quiet again. Yet he still stared at you. 

You shifted uncomfortably in your place, avoiding eye contact. You could still feel his eyes on you but you desperately tried thinking of something else. “Actually, I just remembered. Even though this was all some hoax research they would have needed base camps to stay updated on the population and the animals in general.”

“We could have been camping all along, huh.”

Now you simply stared at Vernon, trying to understand what was going on inside his mind. “It’s late already. We should get a good night’s rest and then search for the base camp. It’s our best chance of rescue.” 

Vernon nodded and stretched his arms above his head, groaning when his joints popped. “Sounds like a solid plan.” He lied down almost immediately and made himself comfortable.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, stunned how easily he relaxed in such a situation. You on the other hand felt too much on edge to even think of sleeping. Once again another shiver ran through your body. You got reminded of the cold that seeped into your body and slowly but surely cooled your core temperature down.

You ignored the trembling of your body and scooted closer to the stone wall behind your back. While it wasn’t truly any warmer, it shielded you a little more from the wind and starting rain.

For the longest time you just sat there and stared ahead with distant eyes as the sky turned darker and darker. Despite the rain your ears picked up on various sounds and each one of them made you feel even more on edge.

“You should rest too”, Vernon mumbled, turning only his head to look at you.

Your attention snapped back to him, surprised he was still awake. “Someone has to stay awake in case something comes up.” You wrapped your arms even tighter around your torso, barely suppressing your shivers.

Vernon pushed himself up again and moved closer to you. He didn’t say another word but he gently pulled you against his body, sharing his warmth with you. Vernon wrapped his arms around you as well and pulled you down until you laid next to him. 

You were now between the stone wall and his body, facing away from him. You felt your muscles slowly relax with his warmth engulfing you. 

“Better?”

You hummed softly and turned around in his hold, ignoring the building embarrassment inside your stomach. “Thanks, this really helps.”

Vernon only hummed in return and closed his eyes again. “Relax now, tomorrow will be another long day.”

~~~

Once the first rays of sunshine appeared at the horizon the next morning, both Vernon and you headed back towards the coast. You assumed a base camp would be near the sea and convinced Vernon to walk along the shoreline. You also hoped to limit your chances of meeting any of the creatures roaming across the island.

It took everything within you to suppress yet another sigh. While you thought you got somehow closer to Vernon during the freezing night, the journey towards the base camp turned out to be just as awkwardly silent.

The terrain changed the further you two walked. At first it had been forests connected to the shore but those cleared out for wide fields of grass. “This would be the perfect habitat for mammoth or other horse-like prehistoric animals.”

“So there is a chance to see mammoths!” 

You chuckled softly. “Technically. I’m not certain it would be that safe to meet them though.” You glanced at Vernon, who shortly appeared quite disappointed before he nodded in resignation.

“Maybe from afar.”

A sad smile played over your lips as you focused back on your surroundings, still searching for the base camp even after being out for so long already. You nearly wanted to give up and suggest finding a place to stay for yet another night, when Vernon tapped your arm.

“Isn’t that a path for cars?” He pointed towards an overgrown passageway, barely visible if you weren’t actively searching for it. The path crossed the wide fields and vanished into another forest like area. 

You gasped in surprise, your heart thumping loudly within your chest as new hope bloomed inside. “Should we follow it?” You glanced at Vernon, sudden nervousness creeping up your spine.

“It will be alright.” Vernon grabbed your hand and pulled you along, steadily walking along the path without a worry in the world.

You on the other hand looked around, unable to shake off the feeling being watched. It only increased the minute you two entered the forest. 

Since the forest wasn’t as dense as the last one, you easily noticed how the sky darkened - the weather changing rapidly yet again. 

“I heard that the weather is unpredictable on Isla Pena.”

Vernon looked up at the sky for a second. “So you’re telling me we’re on Isla Pena due to the sudden changes?”

“Well, I only assume it could be that. I mean it’s definitely not Isla Nublar, which is not part of the Los Cinco Muertes and it’s not Isla Sorna since we saw hints of mammals living on this island instead of dinosaurs. Also I don’t think it’s Isla Tacano, because I haven’t noticed a sign of an active volcano.”

“Lucky us”, Vernon grunted with a soft chuckle as he pulled you further along the overgrown path. He tried to appear unbothered but even he felt like he was being watched and it made the hair on his neck stand up. “You’re like an expert, right? What kind of animal could live in a forest like this?”

You saw how Vernon glanced over his shoulder, uncertainty and worry mirroring in his expression. You bit on your lower lip, letting your gaze wander around one more time. “A light forest connected to a wide plain of grass. It honestly sounds like the perfect habitat for Terror Birds.”

Vernon sighed deeply, shaking his head. “I hope you’re wrong about this.”

“I hope so too”, you whispered.

As if on cue though you noticed a large nest a little to your right, half hidden behind the large roots of a tree.

You silently cursed under your breath and picked up your pace, tugging at Vernon’s hand to indicate he should move faster as well.

A huge weight got lifted from your chest when Vernon quietly pointed towards the outlines of a building, new hope making your steps lighter than before.

By now both of you nearly ran towards the base camp, trying to escape the sense of trepidation behind you. Safety was just at an arm’s length, when you heard the loud cries of something behind you.

Like a mechanical doll you turned your head around, eyes widening in horror when you saw a gigantic bird standing in the middle of the road behind you. Two more birds rushed to its side, tilting their heads in curiosity as they stared at your retreating forms.

Just as you wanted to inform Vernon about the Terror Birds behind you two, you tripped and fell to the ground. Due to the rain your hand slipped out of Vernon’s grasp and with a dull thud combined with a surprised yelp you found yourself flat on the ground.

Vernon immediately stopped in his tracks. He turned around, ready to help you when he saw the birds slowly approaching. “Fuck.” Not only did these birds appear to be twice as tall as a human, no they had incredibly strong legs with sharp claws at their feet. 

If someone thought the emus in Australia were scary, they truly hadn’t seen this terror. 

You groaned when Vernon helped you up, feeling a stinging pain shooting up from your ankle and through your whole leg. Yet, you tried to fight the pain, biting down on your lip and pushing through.

Vernon half dragged and half carried you towards the building, constantly looking behind him at the birds that came closer and closer.

You felt your heart pounding within your chest, louder than the thunder above your heads. It didn’t calm down either after Vernon pushed a metal door with a small window panel open. He helped you through and slipped inside right behind you, before he slammed the door shut again.

Vernon glanced through the small window, flinching when he saw and felt one of the Terror Birds running against the door. He pushed his whole weight against the metal, silently praying it would survive the onslaught. 

When the banging subsided, Vernon looked through the mirror again. He saw one bird marching from side to side, patiently eyeing the closed door as the other two birds rushed away to each side - probably searching for another entrance.

You leaned against the wall next to the door, trying to keep the weight off of your foot. You narrowed your eyes and tried to identify your surroundings. “I think this is some kind of hallway that leads to the centre of the base camp.”

“Then we should follow that. Those birds seem more intelligent than I had hoped for.” Vernon came to your side and slung one of your arms around his shoulder, snaking his own around your waist and steadying you as he pulled you along the hall.

“If those birds live around the area of the base camp, we’re lucky we got inside”, you mumbled, eyes cast down. “I’m not sure any of the others would have been just as lucky.”

Vernon stayed silent, understanding what you were trying to say but just like you he didn’t want to think about that possibility. So far he easily ignored the thought his group of friends might have been killed or died another way on this island already.

Soon enough you two reached an abandoned laboratory. Vernon helped you to sit down on a chair, before he roamed around the room, checking for possible light sources and other useful things.

You looked around, picturing how people in white lab coats rushed through the room, typing quickly on keyboards, analysing data from a large computer or scribbling down notes. You assumed this site got abandoned right after the Isla Nublar or Sorna incident, leaving all the animals to fend for themselves. You wondered how much changed since the controlled growth stopped.

Vernon stepped next to you again, presenting you a dusty emergency bag. “There’s a first aid kit, some energy bars and a satellite phone in it.”

You smiled up at him. “Everything we need.” You held out your hand, waiting for Vernon to give you the bag. You then opened it immediately and pulled out the satellite phone, hoping it was still able to operate. 

Meanwhile Vernon grabbed the first aid kit and crouched down before you, gently grabbing your leg and placing it on his thigh so he could secure your swollen ankle.

The phone cracked a few times before you finally got through and heard the voice of another person. Static interrupted their words from time to time, making it incredibly hard to understand what they were saying.

You assumed your voice would be just as broken off like theirs and therefore decided to simply repeat the same words over and over again until you heard some form of confirmation. “S.O.S. Isla Pena. Need rescue. Base camp.”

Both Vernon and you held your breaths for a moment, trying to understand their reply through all the white noise.

“Chopper after storm?” Vernon mouthed silently, raising an eyebrow questioningly as if he wanted to confirm you heard the same.

You nodded vigorously and thanked the person gleefully before cutting the call again. A relieved laugh escaped your lips as you slumped down on the chair. “We’re actually getting rescued. I can’t believe it.” Before you could hold it back, tears streamed down your cheeks and your laughter turned into quiet sobs.

Vernon stared at you with wide eyes, feeling somewhat awkward witnessing your vulnerable side.

“Can you hold me?” 

Your voice was barely above a whisper but Vernon immediately scooted closer and pulled you against his chest, gently rubbing over your back in a soothing manner. “It’s going to be alright. We just need to stay here and wait until the rescuers come and get us.”

You slowly shook your head. “There must be a landing place. We should find it and stay near it, so when the helicopter arrives we’re able to leave immediately before the next storm starts.”

After you had calmed down, Vernon helped you walk around the base camp. Thankfully there were signs everywhere and the constant lightning illuminated your paths enough for you two to walk freely and find the heli-port rather easily.

“I don’t think they’ll be able to land on here”, Vernon mumbled as you two stared out of the window, seeing fallen trees and broken things scattered all over the port. “Is there another place where they could land on?”

“Maybe the roof but I don’t know whether it’s strong enough to hold the weight of a helicopter.”

“That only leaves the option of climbing a ladder.” Vernon sighed and rubbed over his face. “Will you be able to do that?”

You nudged his shoulder with yours and grinned reassuringly. “I probably won’t be fast but yes, I got that.” You turned back to look outside, watching the strings of raindrops falling to the ground and the trees bending in the wind. You easily pretended that everything would be just fine but the nervousness still had a tight grip around your thoughts.

Vernon and you rested next to the door leading outside to the port. Any unusual sound made you tense up, worrying you missed something and would be stuck on this island until your last breath. 

You slightly turned your head, looking at Vernon. He had his eyes closed and brows furrowed, appearing tense and stern. You leaned over and cupped his cheek, smoothing down his features with a soft smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll get out of here unhar- we’ll get out of here.”

As if some benevolent god heard your voice, the storm subsided. The rain got reduced to a soft pitter-patter against the window and the dark clouds dissipated. Only minutes later you heard the distinct sound of an engine and the chopping sound the rotor blades of a helicopter made.

Vernon jumped up, pulling you with him as he pushed the door open and hurried out into the open - forgetting about his surroundings completely.

Both of you stared up at the sky. You shielded your eyes when the helicopter halted right above you, the strong wind whirling up puddles and small leaves.

Just like Vernon predicted they threw a ladder out of the open side of the chopper, motioning to the both of you to climb up.

Vernon grabbed the lower end of the ladder and kept it steady as he turned towards you. “You’re going up first.”

“But I told you I’m slower-”

“Which is why I’m holding onto this to make it easier for you.” 

You sighed, sensing he wouldn’t budge. Carefully, you climbed the first few steps. The higher you got, the more thankful you felt for Vernon holding the ladder as still as possible. You already made it halfway up the ladder when the rescuers yelled at you. Confused, you looked back down.

One of the Terror Birds appeared at the edge of the heli-port. While it eyed the helicopter warily and kept as low as possible, it didn’t seem phased enough to flee. No, instead its focus turned towards Vernon, who still stood on the ground holding the ladder.

“Vernon!” Your voice sounded borderline hysteric. He didn’t react, your voice probably drowning out by the noise from the helicopter. You knew he wouldn’t start climbing before you made it up. You bit on your lower lip and pushed yourself to climb up faster, ignoring the stinging pain that flared up inside of your ankle again.

The second the rescuer pulled you into the chopper, you turned around and screamed at Vernon. 

He already climbed a quarter of the way, when the Terror Bird decided to charge. 

Your mind got filled with white noise as you stared at the scene unfolding underneath you. You barely registered the yelling of the rescuers, nor that the helicopter suddenly pulled up. You could only see how the Terror Bird had its beak around the ladder, right underneath Vernon’s foot. 

As the bird struggled and sent tremors through the ladder, Vernon was barely able to ascend further. 

Your eyes met with his, before you watched in horrible silence how Vernon climbed the few steps back down, kicking against the beak of the Terror Bird.

Another scream got stuck in your throat when the helicopter shook from another tremble. This time because a Sabertooth Tiger jumped from the roof of the base camp and attacked the bird. 

As both fell to the ground, the ladder got pulled back into the helicopter by the rescuers. They pushed you aside, obstructing your view and sudden fear immobilised you. 

Only after Vernon got pulled into the chopper as well, did you feel like you were able to breathe again. You scrambled over to his side, basically falling into his form. You wrapped your arms around his neck, mumbling your thanks for him being unharmed over and over again.

Vernon wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you into a tight embrace, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. He nosed along your temple, placing soft kisses on your skin.

You didn’t pull back. Instead you ever so slowly turned your head until the tips of your noses met and your breaths mingled. 

Vernon closed the gap, being just as careful as before. He gave you enough time to pull away but you only leaned more into him. 

The second your lips met, all your worries, the dread and fear melted away, leaving a soft fluttering and tingling that spread throughout your body.

You actually made it out alive and with the help of the authorities you could also find your missing friends. Most importantly you found something else during this experience. 

Vernon broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours as he chuckled softly. “Next time I’ll try a simple museum date to get closer to you.”

“Or library.” You giggled and shook your head, surprised you found love within this rollercoaster ride.

#that's so 90's collab #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #wkcnet #kvanity #chwe vernon #seventeen #svt #svt vernon #seventeen vernon #jurassic park au #one shot #quondam

[quitecontrary69]

A very bad no good lineup that I am posting anyway

#idk gothlit collab except it’s the late 90’s?? #that was the concept anyway #except it’s not gothlit at all and I based most of the designs on the movies #I promise I read all the books please don’t kick me out of the gothlit fandom #also threw in some extra monsters from the movies for fun #so it’s more of a monster mash #late 90s #?? #goth lit #monster mash #universal monsters #frankensteins creature #the wolfman #the invisible man #the creature from the black lagoon #dracula #the mummy 1932 #dorian gray #victor frankenstein #dr jekyll and mr hyde #the phantom of the opera #christine daae #holy shit thats a lot of tags

[cheolism]

BREAK AND RETURN

✰ — brother's-bandmate!minghao x f!reader ✷ — summary: last week minghao did what he thought was best and put an end to your fling. he sees you again before band practice and can't help but give in to his desires. ✰ — wc is approx. 5k ✷ — genre: 90s au, smut, fwb/fucking your brother's friend ✰ — warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it! yk it!), pet names (good girl, angel, etc), jealousy, possessiveness, and lust. backshots, off-screen masturbation, fingering and pussy-licking. lmk if anything else should be added :) ✷ — rating: 18+ ✰ — note: this is a part of @beomcoups's "now that's 90's" svt collab! thank u very much for letting me join the collab! i had fun chatting n interacting with new people ^-^ i hope everyone enjoys the fic!! thank you very much to @wooahaeproductions for reading this over and reassuring me <3 tagging @idyllic-ghost and @onlyhuis bc i think you both wanted tagged but i can't remember, so sorry!!!

here’s the thing: minghao isn’t stupid. 

he knows better. he truly does. he isn’t some idiot stuck at a claw machine at an arcade, doesn’t keep feeding it his money while never getting any closer to winning a prize. minghao knows when to quit something, when to step away. 

that’s why he broke things off with you, after all. he had thought it would be easy. the two of you weren’t in a real relationship. you weren’t like tom cruise and nichole kidman – the two of you were just fucking. no strings attached. 

but of course there were strings attached. you’re the kid sister to his friend and bandmate, josh; at first minghao thought he would be fine keeping it a secret. he didn’t need to take you out on dates and show you off like you were the best thing since bon jovi. the two of you were content in each other’s arms, naked chest against naked chest, legs intertwined as you dozed off. 

minghao, however, wasn’t stupid.

he knew there were strings attached to the both of you. he knew that it was a bad idea, fucking his bandmate’s little sister. every time he kissed your warm mouth, he knew he was betraying josh’s trust. it wasn’t fair of him to to that to josh, and it wasn’t fair of him to put you, josh’s sister, in a position to lie to your own brother. 

so minghao took initiative and broke off the relationship. 

he wasn’t stupid, and he knew the first time he would see you after breaking up with you would be hard. he knew it would be. it’s hard for real couples, for couples that hold hands as they walk down the street and talk about what to name the cat they’re going to adopt. he had imagined it would be hard, to some degree, to see you. the two of you might have steered away from such topics as rings and shared apartments and other things that left the fantasy of forever in your minds, but he knew you. he knew how you sighed after he kissed the space under your ear, he knew how you looked fresh from the shower with your face shining from the heat of the water. he knew how you looked when you concentrated on painting your toes, how you looked when you begged him to see clueless at the theater because josh thought it would be stupid and you didn’t know who else to ask. 

he knew you, and perhaps that was worse than dating you. 

he knew you, and you knew him, and minghao isn’t stupid but he didn’t know that seeing you again would hurt so much. 

you look beautiful. you always do, according to minghao. you’re sitting on that old couch josh and him spent an hour trying to shove into the garage for their band practices. you’re wearing ridiculous clothes, baggy comfy pants and the ugly oversized sweater with the worn collar and checkers and stripes on it. you’re talking to soonyoung, hands waving excitedly as the two of you laugh. your beauty bubbles out with every breath of laughter, seems to radiate in your chest like a little star, and minghao knows that even if winona ryder was in the room with them he would still choose you as the most beautiful. 

you catch sight of minghao. you shoot him a grin, large and inviting, as if he hadn’t made you cry last week. you give him a little wave. “hi, minghao!”

and then you turn back to soonyoung, your knee pressed against his. 

it’s so ridiculous; he’s ridiculous. minghao feels his stomach twist, as if someone was wringing it like a wash cloth after doing dirty dishes. you’re beautiful and radiant, and you spoke two words to minghao before turning to soonyoung, as if minghao wasn’t anyone particularly special. 

he can’t help but stare at you. you lift a hand, and, in a move he recognizes as you flirting because you’ve done it to him when you want him to fuck you, you tuck your hair back behind your ear. you are wearing small pearl stud earrings and immediately minghao recognizes them as the ones he bought for you a year and a half ago, right before the two of you started fucking. 

you tuck your hair back behind your ear and soonyoung watches, his mouth parted a little, and minghao feels like he needs to punch something. 

“funny, isn’t it?” josh says, appearing at minghao’s side. josh runs his tongue over his lip ring, pulling at the sleeves of his plaid jacket. “it looks like soonyoung’s got a crush on my kid sister.”

“yeah,” minghao says, throat tight. he watches as soonyoung edges slightly closer, his thigh now pressed firmly against yours. you don’t move away. minghao wants you to move away, or better yet, slap soonyoung. 

minghao isn’t a violent person, either. he isn’t violent, nor is he jealous. but once he also had thought he was above the lure of lust, was above giving into the craving of needing your body against his, dick stuffed in your pussy and his mouth dominating yours. 

maybe you just had some sort of power over him that no one else did. maybe it’s like that movie practical magic, and you’ve placed a spell on him, bewitching him. 

“i think he’s going to ask her out soon,” josh carries on, as if he’s ignorant to the way minghao is one step from having a crisis. “i saw the drive-in is going to be playing jurassic park. i remember when it first came out and how much she loved seeing it at the theater. it’ll be a good chance for soonyoung to ask her on a date.”

minghao scoffs. “you know he’s scared of that movie. whenever we bring out the vhs he runs.”

josh shrugs. “if he likes her as much as i think he does, i think soonyoung will be fine.”

“and you’re okay with it?” minghao turns to josh, putting his back to you and soonyoung. “you’re totally okay with soonyoung dating your sister?”

josh shrugged, twisting his mouth a little in thought. “well. i think – i think he really likes her, you know? he’s not just gonna fuck her and leave her hanging around until he wants her again.”

minghao’s mouth sours, and he bites back a venomous remark. that’s what his relationship with you was like, wasn’t it? he has no place to try and insert himself between you and soonyoung’s blossoming relationship.

“you know how soonyoung is, though,” minghao says, despite himself. he folds his arms in front of him, drumming his fingers against his bare skin. he sees the little flower tattoo on his ring finger, the one he got after you spent an evening at his apartment drawing flowers into your lisa frank notebook with glitter pens. “he’s flighty. he’s never stayed with a chick longer than a month. what if he breaks her heart?”

josh hums. “i can’t keep her locked away in the house forever, hao. she’s grown. she can make her own decisions. and if that is soonyoung, the same soonyoung who refuses to drive without everyone wearing seatbelts and insists on someone holding his hand as he gets a tattoo, then i’m fine with that.”

minghao huffs. he walks away from josh, knowing that josh is right. you are grown and can make your own decisions. for a year and a half, that was minghao. you chose to go to his apartment, chose to get on your knees and offer your mouth. you chose to lay by his side, fingers gently tracing the vine tattoo that climbed up his left arm as minghao murmured about the future. for a year and a half you chose minghao, until he took that choice away from you. 

and now you were sitting at soonyoung’s side on an old, musty couch, laughing at some stupid joke. 

minghao grabbed his bass off of its stand, bringing the strap up around his neck. his fingers find the strings naturally, absentmindedly plucking out the beginning of u2’s “one”. on the body of his bass, down towards the bridge, is a strawberry shortcake sticker that you had gingerly pressed onto his instrument. 

josh joins minghao, calling back to soonyoung. jihoon and vernon come through the door leading to the kitchen, each of them holding a jolt cola. 

“finally,” minghao sighs, glaring at the two other men. “come on. practice started ten minutes ago.”

soonyoung stands from the couch, still talking to you. you’re looking up at him with a smile, eyes sparkling. 

“kwon soonyoung!” minghao snaps. he stops playing the bass, narrowing his eyes at soonyoung. “come on! just because you have all day doesn’t mean the rest of us do. why don’t you fucking respect the rest of us and stop flirting and get the fuck over here.”

josh sucks in a breath next to minghao but doesn’t say anything. soonyoung gives you a small wave, and then he’s jogging over. he glances at minghao, murmuring a small apology. 

minghao doesn’t care. he’s watching you. you lean forward, elbows on your knees, tilting your head and eyes on minghao. your sweater – that overly large, horrible sweater – is loose at the collar, and as you lean forward the hole widens and gapes and falls, giving minghao a view of the valley between your tits and the top of your black silk bra, and all that skin above it. 

and he remembers. minghao remembers what it was like to press his mouth to your skin, to hold your tits in his hands and feel their weight and warmth. he remembers being between your warm thighs, remembers how soft your body was and how he always seemed to sink into it. 

you stand. “well, i’ll leave you guys alone so you can practice.”

minghao watches as you leave, the hem of your sweater covering your ass. he remembers you walking from his bed wearing an overly large nirvana shirt, how the hem tapped against your ass as you walked away and to the kitchen. 

and here’s the thing: minghao isn’t stupid. 

he broke things off with you. he isn’t with you anymore, doesn’t have the privilege of getting horny and jealous of you. he doesn’t get to act on his frustrations when he sees you taunting him, when he sees you getting your petty revenge for breaking up with you. you’re stirring something up with soonyoung, and he doesn’t get to veto that, doesn’t get to act as if he has any say in your life. 

after all, he’s the one that made sure he wouldn’t. he’s the one that made sure to draw the line between the two of you. 

practice starts, and minghao is somewhere else entirely. he gets the order of the songs mixed up, starts playing basket case before live forever. he loses all of his picks and has to borrow from vernon, and his mind keeps slipping back to you. 

an hour passes like that, with minghao not really there. he’s between your thighs, face pressed against your pussy; he’s in your arms, heels digging into his back as you urge him to go deeper. he’s everywhere but there, everywhere with you. 

eventually minghao loses another pick, and josh sighs from the front. he goes over to the speaker and dials it off, frowning at everyone. “i’m thinking we should take a break. we’re not doing our best, and everyone seems really scattered right now. let’s break for supper and come back and really put work in.”

the others nod, turning off their instruments or, in jihoon’s case, setting down his drumsticks. “we need to get focused,” jihoon agrees, serious. “we’re not going to keep maintaining gigs if we’re fucking around like this. we need to be serious about what we’re doing. we need to be bringing our everything to every practice. none of this bullshit.” 

josh nods, setting his guitar back in its case. his case, just like minghao’s, is decorated with stickers you’ve slapped on. besides strawberry shortcake there’s lisa frank, rugrats, pokemon. there’s squiggly lines and smiley faces and flowers, all the signs pointing to you. 

“honestly,” joshua says, voice grave, “if, by some fucking miracle, the black rose calls back and says they want us to perform for them, i’ll have to turn them down.”

soonyoung protests, brow furrowed. “come on! this is just one practice we’ve fucked up. it’s not like we’re always fucking around. let’s just take a break, clear our heads, and come back at it. this isn’t something that needs to be repeated or stressed over.”

“i’m thinking about a triple decker pizza,” vernon says, prompted by no one. josh rolls his eyes, grinning, and the band begins to split into groups for food. 

“where you wanna go?” soonyoung asks minghao. he’s blinking innocently at minghao, completely ignorant of the absolute sin going through his mind. he doesn’t know that minghao thought about punching him only an hour ago, doesn’t know he’s been fantasizing about the way your thighs felt under his fingertips while fumbling his fingers over the bass strings. 

“i think i’ll just run home and grab something,” minghao lies, setting his guitar on its stand. soonyoung pouts, nodding. 

minghao lingers behind the others, lying to josh about misplacing his keys and promising to lock the house behind him. you were doing your homework, josh said, and he didn’t want you to be disturbed. 

minghao waits until soonyoung, whom always seems to be the last one to leave, pulls out of the driveway with vernon jamming out in the passenger seat beside him, and then he’s moving. 

he knows the way up to your bedroom as if it was his own. he goes up the carpeted stairs, past the various pictures of you in flouncy dresses and huge bows as babies, past the awkward family photo with you and josh pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, wearing matching sweater vests. he flips on the mickey mouse lightswitch at the top of the staircase, and then he’s opening your bedroom door. 

your room is your sanctuary. the bedroom walls are painted a soft lilac from your childhood, covered in posters from spice girls to nirvana and aerosmith. there’s beanie babies hanging over your mirror, a troll doll on your dresser. your room is littered with comics and cd cases, all of your cds stacked in small piles around the stereo. you’ve got backstreet boys playing from your stereo, and minghao doesn’t even have it in him to make a comment about it. 

meanwhile, you – 

you are on your bed. you’re still wearing that sweater, but that’s all. your blankets are on the floor, pillow stuffed underneath your hips. your entire lower half is bare, one leg extended out and the other bent. the room has the faint, barely-there smell of cunt, and it’s more intoxicating than any drug. 

you meet minghao’s eyes sheepishly, hands smoothing down your thighs. “missed you,” is all you say, fingers slowly dragging across your thighs and towards your center. 

minghao is across the room in record time, pulling off his bomber jacket and throwing it to the ground. “we don’t have a lot of time,” he says, hands pulling up the hem of his shirt to zip down his pants. “the others just went to eat.”

“then you better hurry,” you say, eyes sparkling. you don’t make any comments about him stumbling back into your bed after breaking everything off. instead you spread out your legs, your hands making quick work of your sweater and bra, and minghao falls onto your bed. 

“i’ve prepared,” you say as he settles between your thighs. he can’t help but run his hands over your skin, treasuring the feel of your skin beneath his. this was his favorite place on earth, he realizes; between your thighs, skin to skin. 

“you’ve prepared?” he echos, raising a brow. you nod, biting down on your lip. “been waiting for me, is that it?”

“you or soonyoung,” you say, grinning at him. 

minghao scowls at you, pinching your skin between his fingertips. “shut up,” he commands you. “don’t wanna hear you say his name ever again.”

you laugh at him, reaching out. you lace your fingers around his neck, bringing his face down to yours. you press a quick, close-lipped kiss to his mouth. “sorry,” you say, voice still light and giggly. “couldn’t help it.”

minghao growls, and then he’s lacing his hands in your hair and smashing his mouth back to yours. he pries open your mouth with his tongue, delving in and reclaiming that familiar space. he can’t believe he’s gone over a week without kissing you – it’s a sin, he’s sure, to not kiss you and have you whimpering underneath his touch. it’s a greater sin to not kiss you than it is to be kissing his friend’s little sister, surely. 

he sucks at your bottom lip, moving his hands down your thighs. they’re sticky on the inside, no doubt from when you prepared yourself earlier. when he moves his hand deeper between your thighs it’s wetter, warmer, stickier, and he thinks that this is a heaven of it’s own. you sigh against his mouth, and then he’s ducking his head and moving his body, mouth slipping from yours and skimming down over your chin and along your throat. 

you whine, and he can’t help but chuckle against your skin. he suckles at your throat. you open beneath him so wonderfully, it’s a wonder he was ever able to separate from you at all. 

minghao moves down your body, kissing each and every spot he missed. the top of the valley between your tits, the skin of your shoulder. he mouths at your nipples, slipping his hand up between your legs so his fingers brush at your pussy lips. 

you shiver beneath him. he laps at one of your nipples with his tongue, fingers dipping and sliding your cunt. he doesn’t apply any real pressure,  just content with teasing you and hearing those whines and moans he missed. 

“hao,” you groan out, fingers moving to his hair. you tangle your fingers in his locks, pulling softly. “hao –”

he shushes you, and then his fingers are slipping into your cunt. you moan out, head tipping back. he slips two into your hole, biting down at his lip as your pussy contracts around him, trying to suck his fingers in further, desperate for his touch. 

your cunt is hot around his fingers. it’s not as tight as it would have been if you hadn’t prepared, and it’s easy for him to slide his two fingers down to the base, brushing his fingertips against your core.

“fuck,” he sighs, pressing his face against your stomach. he breathes in, inhaling your scent. you’re so wonderful. you smell wonderful, feel wonderful. he wants to devour you; he can’t imagine why he ever left you. 

he slides his fingers from your cunt, drawing a high whine from your lips. minghao clicks his tongue at you, and then he’s pushing three fingers in. you shudder, cunt clenching so tight around his digits that he can’t move. 

“easy, baby,” he mumbles, his free hand going to your leg. minghao pulls your leg over his shoulder, nose pressing against your thigh. he can feel your skin against his eyelash as his breathes you in here, too. “gotta be easy and good for me.”

you let out a long breath, eyes sliding shut. your cunt loosens around his fingers, and as a reward minghao moves down further between your legs. he presses his face to your cunt, the smell of your pussy surrounding him. 

he knows he should hurry. he knows his band will be back soon. but that doesn’t stop minghao from running his tongue along your clit, doesn’t stop him from tasting this part of you. he missed it so much – missed your cunt, how it smelled and felt and tasted. 

your thighs clench around his head, but he continues. minghao scissors his fingers in you, not focused on stretching you but instead making you feel good. he laps at your lit in broad strokes, and then he’s sucking at your little bean, a loud squeal escaping your lips. 

“quiet!” he hisses, though he feels his lips twitching up at the corner. he does it again and again between licks of his tongue, feeling your body shake beneath his and little sounds of ecstasy escape your lips. 

“hao!” you whine out, fingers digging slightly into his scalp. “gotta – gotta hurry, josh –”

you couldn’t manage a full sentence, high moans and squeals escaping your mouth and interrupting your words. but minghao understood all the same, and he was pressing one last kiss to your pussy before he withdrew. 

he wiped his hand off on the sheets, and then he was pushing his pants and boxers down to his knees. he fisted his shirt with one hand, raising it and keep it away from your soaking cunt as he moved close. 

you plant your feet on the bed, tilting your hips up for him. you’re so good, he thinks. you’re perfect. and you’re his. 

minghao pressed the head of his cock against your cunt, watching as your entire body seemed to freeze in anticipation. you were so ready for him, so eager. you were biting down at your lip, eyes large and watching, and minghao couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t feeling the same way. 

he crowded down over you, releasing his shirt and moving his hand to cup your face. minghao rolled his tongue into your mouth, the noises of your wet mouths meeting making his cock throb with anger.

he fucked into your cunt, a deep groan escaping you. your pussy was tight, despite preparation, but warm and wet and minghao slowly slid deeper and deeper. your body took his cock easily, as it always had, and he knew that the two of you were meant for each other. 

“hao,” you moan out, lashes fluttering. you speak against his mouth, breath hot. “feels good, hao. want it. missed you so much, hao.”

“i know, baby,” he mumbles, hand sinking into your hair. he slides until his cock is buried as far as it can go within you, your pussy clamping down on his cock. he wanted to move, wanted to immediately begin fucking you. instead he held back, hand twisting in your hair. “i missed you too.”

you bite at your lip, and then you’re tightening your legs around his waist. minghao takes this as permission, and he begins drawing his hips back. the slide of his dick against your walls feels so good, feels perfect, all slick warmth that makes his toes curl and eyes flutter. 

he can’t believe he left you. he can’t believe he ended this. he’s so fucking stupid – 

minghao fucks back into your cunt, and it feels like coming home. he begins setting a slow, deep rhythm that makes you arch up around him, mouth wide and eyes pinched shut. he just looks at you, takes in the shape of your mouth and your lashes, just looks and adores you. 

his hand moves from your hair to your ear, and he traces the shell of your ear as he grinds into you. he follows the curve, adoring. he thumbs at your earlobe, just touching you, when he touches that pearl earring. 

and minghao thinks back. he thinks back to how you had tucked your hair behind your ear for soonyoung, how you had acted all cute and coy for him. how you had taunted minghao. 

his hips slow to a stop, and you whine for him. for a moment he just focuses on your earrings, staring. 

“you’re such a bad girl,” he growls out, and then he’s slamming back into your pussy, the sound of skin hitting skin loud. you cry out, startled, and then he’s setting a punishing, brutal pace. 

“you’re so bad,” he hisses, hand moving down to your throat. he doesn’t choke you, just places his hand against your throat. “teasing me like that with soonyoung. so fucking bad. wanted me to get jealous, didn’t you?”

you whimper, eyes rolling back as he fucks you. each thrust into your cunt is wet and loud, and he fucks you knowing that you’ll feel the ache hours later. 

“wanted me jealous of kwon soonyoung,” minghao murmurs, and he’s ducking his head to bite at your neck. you cry out, cunt tightening around his dick. he bites and licks and sucks, marking your neck as his. 

because you are his. he was a fool to think otherwise. you’re his and he’s yours, and he’ll show kwon soonyoung. 

minghao pulls out – you whine – and he flips you around. minghao moves to his knees, pulling you up and back so you’re on all fours. he enters you with a rough thrust, and then he’s resuming his hard pace, chasing out each sting of skin slapping skin, seeking that pain-pleasure. 

“you’re mine,” he says, hands tight around your hips. he watches your ass jiggle with each thrust, some animalistic urge to take coming over him. “you’re mine, angel. fucking mine and no one else’s. got it?”

you nod against your pillows, arching your back and pushing back to him. you fuck back onto him, meeting each thrust, and minghao can’t help but feel satisfied. 

as if you’d ever do this for kwon soonyoung. as if you’d ever let him fuck you like this, as if you’d ever give yourself over to kwon soonyoung as eagerly as you do minghao.

“you gotta cum,” minghao commands, slapping at your ass. you cry out, fingers twisting in the sheets. “gotta cum around my cock, baby. milk me.”

he reaches down, grabbing his shirt and pushing it up out of the way. his fingers slip into your cunt, fluttering around where the two of you are connected to grind down on the gummy area surrounding your clit. you whine, and only a couple of thrusts later you’re tightening around his dick. 

“that’s it,” minghao says, biting down on his lip. “gush around my dick, angel. come on, cum for me.”

your moans rise in pitch as you cum, and he fucks you through it. he fucks into your pussy as it quivers, fluttering around his dick. once you’re finished, whining from oversensitivity, minghao pulls out of your pussy – your warm, tight, delightful pussy – and fucks into his hand until he’s shooting out warm stripes of cum, painting your back white. he feels fuckin amazing, adrenaline and lust and something he can’t quite name rushing through his veins. 

he pants, watching as his cum taints your skin. you’re so beautiful like this, stained with him. he says as much, rubbing his hand over your ass and back. 

a car honks from the street. minghao curses, and then he’s flinging himself off of the bed. he grabs his bomber jacket, hesitates, and then quickly wipes himself down. 

“i’ll wash it,” you promise, and he ducks down to press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your mouth. 

“good girl,” he murmurs, moving to press a kiss to your temple. “such a good girl for me.”

he darts for the bathroom after leaving your bedroom, flicking on the goofy lightswitch. he looks in the mirror. he looks – well, he looks like he just spent the last half hour fucking someone. 

but not just anyone, he thinks, grabbing his shirt and flapping it to try and get some fresh air against his skin. he spent the last half hour fucking you. 

vernon looks at him weirdly as he hands minghao a few slices of pizza. “been busy?”

minghao shrugs, pressing his hair back from his face. “went jogging a bit to try and clear my mind of all it’s shit. need to bring everything to practice.”

vernon looks like he doesn’t believe minghao, but vernon, also, doesn’t care. so minghao watches as his friend grabs a soda from the fridge. “cool,” is all he says, and then vernon begins slurping at his drink. 

soonyoung enters the room with his own pizza, setting it on the counter. “i made sure to get some you like,” he says to minghao. 

minghao feels, slightly, like he should feel guilty towards soonyoung. soonyoung, after all, has a crush on you. and minghao just fucked soonyoung’s crush. 

then again, minghao thinks, it’s soonyoung’s fault for getting a crush on you when you spend every other day getting your brains fucked out by minghao. 

joshua enters his house with a large grin, holding a plastic cup in one hand. “you’ll never fucking guess who called.”

“president clinton,” soonyoung says, raising a slice of pepperoni pizza to his mouth. “wait. better yet. monica lewinsky.”

“no,” josh says, “cut it out. i’m talking about the fucking black rose club! they called! and they want us for next thursday!”

“well,” minghao says, a grin taking over his face. “it isn’t a friday or saturday performance, so the club won’t be too busy.”

“but it gets our name out there,” josh agreed, clapping vernon on the back. he looks so sincerely happy, lip ring glinting in the artificial light of the kitchen. “we’re getting on the map.”

minghao raises vernon’s soda in salute towards josh before drinking it and handing it back to vernon. “things are looking up,” minghao says.

minghao isn’t stupid. he knows they’ll need to work their asses off for the next week in preparation of playing at the club. he knows this is only one step on the mountain of success, only one step towards their goal line. he knows he’ll need to talk to you, sincerely. he knows he’ll need to apologize, knows he needs to explain everything. 

yes; minghao isn’t stupid. 

but, he thinks, watching as you come down the stairs, fresh from a shower, he is awfully lucky. 

#svthub #ksmutsociety #my writing #— jupiter writes #svt smut #svt oneshot #svt au #seventeen smut #seventeen oneshot #seventeen au #xu minghao #the8 #svt the8 #the8 smut #the8 oneshot #xu minghao smut #xu minghao oneshot #the8 fic #xu minghao fic #svt fic #seventeen fic

[duhnova]

Cry-Baby | Choi Seungcheol

synopsis. decked out in leather and riding a harley davidson like he’s got business with the devil, choi seungcheol was the talk of your small town. everyone looked down on him and when you come home for the first time since starting uni you find it hard to believe that the pouty lipped kid you tossed off the merry-go-round when you were six was some slick haired delinquent. 

pairing. biker!choi seungcheol x fem!reader 

word count: 4.9k

genre. fluff, angst, opposites attract, drama?, kind of college au

warning(s): mentions of parent death, mentions of parent illness, alcohol, let me know if i forgot anything!

this is apart of a 90's collab! you should check out everyone elses fics! - there might be a smutty & more angsty part 2 to this if there’s enough interest! also huge shoutout to @onlyhuis and @onlymingyus for proofreading for me, ily guys <3

When you left for university three years ago you never wanted to return home, the small town always made you feel claustrophobic. But now you’re sitting on a train, about an hour away from your childhood, the sony walkman you got as a graduation present from high school sat in your lap as you listened to the same nirvana cassette on repeat. 

The nerves of being home began to get to you as the familiar views of the old trailer park that sat outside your town came into view. An old pickup truck that adorns the same white and blue paint of your best friend's truck drives down the road that travels along the train tracks and it makes you wonder if it’s him coming to meet you at the station.  

“We’ll be arriving at the station within the next five minutes.” The worker smiled at you as she continued down the aisle of seats to tell the other patrons of the cart that the train will be stopping for a couple minutes at your stop before embarking to the next station. 

You put your walkman in your pocket so that you aren’t scrambling to gather your things when the train stops. Just as you got your backpack situated the train jolted a little as its breaks screech to a stop. 

“Ladies and gentlemen we have reached our next stop.” The worker's voice is drowned out by your music as you stand up and grab your suitcase before hopping out the door with the worker's help in lifting your bag down. 

“Thank you!” You call out and wave as the door closes and the train takes off again, no one else got on or off. 

“Y/N!” You hear a familiar voice call from behind you, the roar of a diesel engine brings a certain comfort to you that you haven’t felt since you left. 

“Gyu!” You call out with a smile on your face, the change in his appearance being more shocking in person than you thought it would be, having only seen him in pictures he sent from the crappy disposable cameras he and his friends like to use. All the work he’s been doing on his family's ranch has paid off as his muscles glisten with dirt and sweat. 

“I’ve missed you cherry pop.” He hugs you tightly as you laugh at the nickname he gave you years ago because you always had cherry lollipops on you. 

“I’ve.. missed you too.” You choke between laughs and the way he was squeezing you a little too tightly. 

“Sorry,” He laughs as he lets you go to grab your suitcase instead. “Are you hungry? It was a long travel day for you.” 

“I could eat.” You smile as you take your headphones off to let them rest around your neck as you follow your best friend to his truck that was still running and emitting a gross smell of diesel. 

“Great, let’s go to pops diner.” He lifts your suitcase over the side of the truck bed like it was nothing before he opens the door for you to get in. The leather of his seats were warm from his heater that left the cabin toasty unlike the train car you had been sitting in almost all day. 

“How are you?” You ask about the owner of the diner who was well into his 70’s at this point, his restaurant having been open for almost five decades at this point.

“He’s doing good, got his hip replaced last summer,” Mingyu shifts the car into drive after he reversed out of the spot he parked at. “Still kickin, Cheols mom still works there too.” The mention of your old childhood playmate makes you smile bittersweetly. The last time you two had talked was before you left for college and he seemed angry about everything in life and he took it out on you leaving a sour taste in your mouth and the lack of communication between the two of you over the past few years.  

“That’s nice, how is she doing? I remember last you told me she was in the hospital for something.” Mingyu sighs a little from beside you.

“Yeah she was, took me forever to get anything out of Cheol about it but she’s doing good now. Or so I’ve been told.” Seungcheol had always been hard headed and he’d rather talk about other people's problems than his own so it didn’t surprise you that Mingyu had to dig for some type of answer from him. 

“Is she working today? I’d love to see her…” Your voice trailed off as you thought about the lady’s son, who you desperately wanted to see as well but how you left things made you hesitant.

“Not today, she’s off for the weekend.” You nod, mumbling that it’s nice that she takes the weekend for herself. 

“I know you and Cheol had some blowout when you left but I’m going to see him later after I drop you off, if you wanna come with you’re more than welcome too.”

“What’re you two doing?” Mingyu was surprised you didn’t immediately shoot down his offer, he thought it would take more convincing.

“We’re going to the river for a bonfire with Jeonghan and Wonwoo.”

“They’re home too?” They had both left for college around the same time you had.

“Yeah, they come home every break they can.. Unlike someone I know.” He laughs lightheartedly. You huff quietly, unsure of how to respond. How do you respond anyways? You never wanted to come back, memories weighed heavy on your heart and the only thing keeping you to your hometown was the friends that resided in it.

“Hey,” Mingyu's voice softens. “I get it, you got out when you saw the chance and I’m proud of you.” 

“Thank you.” Your voice was just as soft as you watched the familiar scenery zip by. A nice silence fell between the two of you as he focused on driving, the train station sitting a couple miles out from the town you used to live in. 

“The bank sold the house by the way.” Mingyu broke the silence, a nervous sweat settled on his forehead as he broke the news to you. 

“About time.” You sigh, another weight you didn’t realize you were holding lifted off your shoulders. “Less for me to deal with now.” 

“You’re not upset?” Mingyu looks at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“No,” You sit up straighter and begin picking at the hem of your jacket. “My father was a drunk with thousands of dollars of debt he owed the bank so I’m not even surprised they sold it to make back what they lost and then some I’m sure.” 

“At least an actual family bought it instead of some corporation.” Mingyu tried to lighten the mood. “They just moved in and they have a newborn and a cute dog that I think you’d like.” 

“What kind of dog is it?” You side eye Mingyu, appreciative of the fact he moved on from the sensitive topic so quickly. 

“A corgi, they said it’s a black tricolor… Whatever that means.”

“It’s the fur color, it’s mainly black with a little bit of brown and white?”

“Yes! See this is why you went to college, you’re smart as hell.” You shake your head with a smile on your face. 

“You’re smart too, Gyu, and not going to college doesn’t affect that.” He shrugs as he slows his speed down after approaching the edge of town. 

“If you say so cherry pop.” Just as he pulled up to the first stoplight the roar of a loud engine could be heard from a distance. 

“I bet that’s Cheol.” You look at Mingyu confused before your question gets lost once you see the helmet less Seungcheol sped by on a motorcycle you had never seen before, his once dark hair was bleached blonde.

“That’s Cheol?” You asked as you watched him disappear down the opposite street you and Mingyu turned down. 

“Yeah, he changed quite a bit since you left.” That was an understatement as Seungcheol looked as big as Mingyu, maybe bigger if you dared to think.

“I can see that, can’t believe he bleached his hair.” 

“He did that pretty recently actually, said he needed a change and decided the worst that could happen is his hair would fall out.” 

“He’d look good with a buzz cut.” Mingyu laughs at the thought causing you to laugh too. 

“You should tell him that tonight when we hang out, I guarantee he’ll either blow a gasket or take you seriously and actually cut his hair off.” 

“He would drown me in the river first before he’d listen to me.” 

“I don’t know cherry pop, you were very influential to him for a long time. Remember how he did your bidding all throughout elementary school?” 

“Yeah cause I tossed him off the merry-go-round at recess and he decided he was scared of me until junior high.” 

“I think we were all scared of you after that,” Mingyu puts the car in park after pulling up to the diner. “The older kids wouldn’t mess with me either because you scared them too.” The fact Mingyu is younger than you by two years makes you question reality as he’s much bigger then you now and has been since junior high. 

“Still wild to think about.” You laugh as Mingyu hops out the truck to run over and open the door for you, he’s never allowed you to open your own door since he started driving. 

“Oh, I guess Cheol’s mom is working today.” Mingyu closes the door behind you and puts the key in the handle to lock it as he stares at the familiar woman through the window that was taking someone’s order. “Someone must’ve called out of work today.” 

The two of you walk to the front door together, making small talk about anything and everything. Seungcheol’s mother greeted the two of you with a smile and handed you two menus once you sat down. 

“It’s good to see you sweetheart.” She smiles widely at you, she was always like a second mother to you growing up especially after you mothers untimely passing. 

“It’s good to see you too, you look great.” You smile warmly, despite any animosity you might feel for her son right now you will never be able to hate this woman. 

“I’ll start you two off with some water?” You both nod, prompting her to walk away. 

“So how’s the ranch?” You scan the menu, already knowing what you want but wanting to check to see if anything new was added. 

“It’s good, Cheol doesn’t work there anymore.” Mingyu doesn’t look up from his menu to see your surprised expression. “Mr. Johnson offered him a job as a mechanic after seeing the work he would do on the farm equipment.” 

“Mechanics suit him.” You smile at his mother when she comes back with your waters. 

“Do you two know what you want?” You both nod, letting Mingyu order first despite the look he gave you after you shrug and take a big gulp of your water. “Are you getting your usual sweetheart?” She turns to you.

“How do you remember what I used to order?” Your eyes widen.

“You’d order the same thing almost every time you’d come here since you were a kid and I’ve been working here longer than you’ve been alive so I have it practically engraved into my memory.” She laughs quietly as she takes your menus. “You and my son are the same in your consistency in ordering the same thing.” 

“Oh.” You could feel your face heating up at the thought. You’re happy she didn’t bother to push a conversation as she went to help more people that came in. 

“You and Cheol are as opposite as opposite can be.” 

“You don’t say.” You roll your eyes playfully. 

The banter between you and Mingyu continued on, even after your food came you both found something to poke — and trust me there was a lot to poke at that has happened over the past three years that couldn’t be conveyed over letters and the occasional call here and there. 

“We should head out now, get you to the ranch so you can clean up and rest before tonight.” Mingyu paid for your guy's food like the gentleman he is and held the door open for you as you walked out into the warm summer air. 

“Am I obligated to go swimming tonight?” Mingyu shakes his head. 

“You’re not but we’ll all be swimming so,” He hops into the truck after opening the door for you. “Just to be safe you might wanna wear your swimsuit.” 

“Got it.” You nod your head before watching out the window again, committing your old hometown to memory again. The drive to the ranch was peaceful and long, sitting a few miles out of town on the opposite side of where the diner was. 

Once you got to Mingyu's house and greeted his family and caught up, you went to the spare room upstairs to unload your bags and lay on the bed to unwind. A quick nap was sure to help the oncoming headache you got so after changing your clothes to be a little more comfortable you crawl under the freshly cleaned blanket and almost instantly knock out. 

A couple hours pass by before Mingyu is knocking on the door to wake you up, telling you the guys are heading to the river now and that you two need to get going soon.

Groaning quietly as you sit up in bed and stretch, it felt nice to not have to worry about anything as this is the first summer you decided to not take summer classes as you'd be graduating early after this upcoming fall semester. Getting up and taking your walkman out of your bag again you took out the nirvana cassette and put in green day instead, the music more uplifting and giving you an ounce of energy to put your swimsuit on and a pair of shorts and jacket to cover yourself. 

“How was your nap dear?” Mingyu's mother greeted you as you walked down the stairs, your friend standing by the door waiting (im)patiently for you. 

“Amazing, sitting all day in those train seats takes a toll on your back.” You take your walkman headphones off and half hazardously shove them into your jacket pocket. 

“Tell me about it, I can’t sit for too long now without going stiff.” She smiles warmly as she wishes you two well as you b-line to the door after Mingyu told you to hurry up. 

 “Couldn’t even give me time to say bye.” You grumble as you shuffle up to the truck where Mingyu was holding the door for you. 

“Sorry cherry pop, the guys are waiting for us and we still gotta get drinks.” 

“Why are we getting the drinks?” You buckle up and put your headphones back on, both of your tastes in music are dramatically different as he puts in a country cassette into the radio. 

“You’re home, they want you to get what you want instead of drinking what they like.” 

“They still drink that shitty dollar beer right?” Mingyu nods. “Then we drink the same thing, not much has changed as I still couldn’t afford the expensive stuff being at college.” 

“Great, that makes this run cheap.” The ride to the corner store was quick, the street lights lining the road leading from the ranch to town making the trees look ominous. 

Once you guys had secured the alcohol you made your way to the river. The long body of water stretched for miles outside of town in both directions, and the one spot you guys have always met up at since junior high was hidden away. You had thick bushes to climb through and poison ivy to look out for as it wasn’t a regular site on the river to be at. 

“Mingyu! Y/N!” Jeonghan called happily when he saw the two of you emerge from the bushes. The bonfire was already large and roaring while Cheol and Wonwoo were already in the water swimming. 

“Hannie!” You smile and hug him happily, he was always the least affectionate person so when he offered you a hug you always took it. 

“How have you been? It’s been years!” He pulls away from the hug to greet Mingyu while sitting down in his chair and pats the one next to him that looked to have been occupied by Seungcheol at one point based on the jacket hanging on it. 

“I’ve been good, college has been tough but I'm graduating a semester early.” You smile at Mingyu who hands you a beer before he sets the box down and makes quick work to strip down to his swim trunks so he can join the other two in the water. “How have you been?” 

“I’ve been great, graduating a semester later than I should've, but I took a light load last semester because I was back and forth to be here for Cheol while his mom was in the hospital.” you nod your head while taking a drink of your beer. You never realized that his mom being in the hospital was that bad. 

“Mingyu didn’t tell me much about her being in the hospital so I didn’t realize it was that bad.” You look out at the three guys who are currently climbing the rock in the middle of the river so they can jump into the water.

“He wanted to write to you, ever since you left it’s all he had been beside himself about but when his mother got sick he wanted to write to you even more.” Jeonghans voice was soft, nervous that the said male would hear your two's conversation and start hounding him for spilling the secret. 

“I wanted to write him too, but-“

“But you couldn’t, I’m not as hard headed as Seungcheol so I get why but I don’t get why you couldn’t have let him down sooner.” You sigh, this was a conversation you knew you’d have eventually as Jeonghan was Seungcheols best friend outside of you and he was the only one that knew about you two. 

“I wanted to, believe me it was never my plan to break things off the day I was leaving but I was selfish and didn’t want to let him go yet.”

“You are selfish,” You laugh quietly, thanking him. “But he’s selfish too, this town holds too many bad memories for you and he wanted to tie you to it when you finally had the chance to escape it.”

“You know, I asked him to come with me.” You took another sip of your beer, your eyes back on the blonde who seemed to feel you staring as he tilted his head back and gave you a bitter smirk. “When I first got the acceptance letter and I was on the fence about going, he wanted me to go but he also wanted me to stay and so I told him to come with me so I didn’t have to choose.”

“He never told me that.” Jeonghan opens up another beer and gingerly takes a sip of it. 

“I’m not surprised, I think he thought it was a joke.” You finally tear your eyes off of Seungcheol to look at Jeonghan. “After that I didn’t tell him I committed and just continued to relish our time together.”

“Y’know, he wanted you to go because this was your dream but he wanted to be a part of that dream and you keeping that from him and then cutting ties with him when you left is what broke him.” 

“I didn’t mean to.” You mumbled and looked down at your half empty beer can. “He was the one that told me that if I wasn’t willing to make things work then he didn’t want to hear from me.”

“Well he’s dumb,” Jeonghan takes another sip. “But so are you.”

“I know.” You close your eyes and sigh, letting your head lull back on the chair. 

“Are you going to talk to him while you’re home? It is the first time you’ve been home since leaving after all.” 

“This isn’t my home anymore.” You don’t bother to open your eyes as you take in the warm night air. This hasn’t been your home since you left and it hasn’t felt like home for far longer, the only thing (or person) that made you feel remotely anchored here was Seungcheol. 

“It was your home at one point, and I'd argue it still is because Seungcheol and the rest of us are here.” 

“Corny loser.” You mumble, a small smile cracking at your lips before you sit up straight. “I’ll talk to him, I promise. I had been prepping myself all week to mend things between us while I was here.” 

“Good.” Jeonghan smiles and downs the rest of his beer. “Now hurry up and finish drinking so we can go join them in the water before it gets colder.” 

“You’re going to die in that water, it’s too cold for you already.” You laugh before downing the rest of your beer so you can strip down to your swimsuit, making sure not to toss your walkman around too much. 

“I’ll manage.” He shrugs after taking his clothes off too before walking cautiously up to the edge of the water. He barely touches it with his big toe and he curses. 

“Told you,” You stand beside him and watch his reaction. “You just gotta go in as quick as you can.” You show him how it’s done as you take a deep breath in and hold it as you quickly walk into the water before you’re deep enough to dive under. 

“Show off.” He huffs before he follows in your footsteps, cursing the whole way up to his shoulders. 

“You did it han,” Wonwoo pats him on the shoulder. “You’re shivering already.” 

“It’s fucking cold and you’re all insane.” He huffs and starts to swim around a little, letting the cold water soothe his warm skin. 

“I think it feels good.” You had popped back up next to Mingyu who was standing with Seungcheol who was watching Jeonghan worried. 

“It does feel good.” Mingyu lets the water support his body as he starts to swim backwards, no longer being a wall between you and the ire of your freshman year of college. 

“It’s good to see you Y/N.” Wonwoo gives you a small smile before he also swims away, leaving you and Seungcheol alone and seeing the look on Jeonghan's face in the distance makes you believe that this was planned. He clears his throat when he seems to realize you two are alone.

“Um,” Is all he manages to say before you’re taking a deep breath and turning to look at him. 

“Hi Seungcheol.” He flinches at the use of his full name.

“Ouch, hi litt-“ He catches himself using the old nickname he had for you. “Hi Y/N.”

“God I hate this.” You can’t be bothered to hide the fact that the whole situation makes you sad and angry already, you missed him and he was right there in front of you and you were both acting like you wanted nothing to do with each other, which might’ve been true right after you had left but as time went on it faded into longing and anger at oneself.

“You hate this? How do you think I feel?” He crosses his arms and looks down at you. 

“Cheol I-“

“I don’t want to hear excuses.”

“Ok asshole I was going to apologize but not anymore.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him so you could swim away, the conversation you had with Jeonghan felt like complete bullshit now. 

“Wait,” he grabbed your arm to spin you back around, the water splashing violently at the fast movement. “I’m sorry, for everything.” It was rare that he’d ever apologize and right now it felt out of place as he had no reason to apologize at the moment. 

“I practiced how this conversation would go for weeks and this was not one of the ways I accounted for. You weren’t supposed to apologize first.” You look up at Seungcheol who was just staring at you silently now, his hand still holding tightly on your arm. “Seungcheol I-“

“Stop calling me that.”

“Stop interrupting,” You huff, the smallest smile forming on his face “I’m sorry for how I left things and for everything leading up to when I left.” 

“Y’know, I spent most of the first year you were gone blaming you, and then I started blaming myself until my mother made me realize that neither of us were to blame and then I spent the remainder of the time just numb.”

“If you stopped blaming me, how come you didn’t write to me?”

“You never wrote to me.” He sounded hurt and you were hurt too but you hated the pain in his voice and it caused you to move closer to him, hoping you could erase even just a hint of it.

“I’m sorry, there was never a time where I didn’t think about writing to you but your words kept playing in my head about how you never wanted to hear from me if I left our relationship behind.”

“It wasn’t much of a relationship then was it, we were just friends exploring each other,” That’s what you liked to tell eachother when you were in denial about your feelings. “I wrote letters, most of them are stamped and sitting in my desk drawer because I couldn’t bring myself to send them.”

“Yet you bought stamps for them?” You raise an eyebrow curiously. 

“Yes,” He huffs, trying to hide the ounce of embarrassment he’s feeling. “I’d get these bouts of feelings where I’d want to send them and I’d get all the way to the post office with a stamp on the envelope and the second I’d park I’d back out and go back home only to hide it away with the others.” 

“Cheol…” 

“I know it’s probably stupid and I’ll just burn them all now since you’re home and-“

“I’m not staying,” You cut him off for some reason. “I mean I’m staying for the summer but I’m going back home to finish my last semester of college so I can get a job at a vet clinic there.” 

“That’s ok, this time I promise I will write.”

“You should come with me.” You blurt out like you did all those years ago.

“I can’t leave my mother, she won’t leave this town and with her health fluctuating I just can’t.” He gave you an actual answer this time unlike he did when you were younger. 

“I get it, she needs you.. But one day you have to leave this place, don’t you think?” Your hand gently touches his arm as you drift even closer to him. 

“I never thought of leaving until you left.” He mumbled as his hands moved to ghost over your sides that were under the water. 

“One day?” You sounded hopeful. “Even if we’re old and married to other people do you think you’d still leave?” 

“I..” His voice trailed off as your breath got closer to his face. “I’d never marry… unless it was you.” He whispered before he finally kissed you, the weight of what he said disappearing as you both got lost in the taste of each other. After what felt like an eternity you finally pulled away out of breath, a quiet whistle could be heard from behind Seungcheol somewhere and you assumed it had to be Jeonghan since Mingyu would’ve quite literally jumped the two of you. 

“Cheol- '' He cuts you off.

“Let's enjoy the night, yeah?” He didn’t want to talk about what he just said, or what the future would hold anymore. It’ll take time, you both realized, for things to go back to normal but for now you were content with how things were because this time he knew what to expect when summer ends, he just hoped that you’d change your mind about long distance relationships. And you hoped he’d change his mind about rotting away in this small town.

feedback + reblogs greatly appreciated! let me know what you guys thought!

#svthub #kvanity #kflixnet #90’s collab #scoups #seungcheol #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #scoups fluff #scoups angst #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol angst #seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines

[chrollohearttags]

THEY DON’T KNOW | e. jaeger

synopsis: your life and relationship in the spotlight seemed nothing short of perfect..that was until everyone else convinced you otherwise.

content + themes: slight angst, engagement/proposal, musician eren x influencer reader ofc, fluff, drama, mentions of infidelity, kissing, brief mentions of suggestive things, nothing heavy, just a sweet story for my favorite ship

word count: 3.2K

📝: this is for my sweet @honeybleed ‘s 90-00’s R&B collab event! (I’m a little late to the party, I’m so sorry about that! 😭) Congratulations to you again on 600, my love. You deserve every bit and so much more!

SONG 🎧: They Don’t Know • Jon B.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•

noise…it all seemed so much louder than usual nowadays. Everything sounded so much more amplified now matter how hard you fought to drown it out. The music thudding from the speakers on stages that you danced on, the rain droplets splattering against your window pane and lately…the opinions of every envious naysayer and supposed friend alike.

Telling you that your relationship was a moot point. A mere sham and that in due time, it’d come crumbling to its core. Regardless how strong the foundation was between the two of you, outside forces could still cause it to shatter at any moment. But that was only if you allowed it. You couldn’t escape it either…every other scroll and headline on every media outlet was a photo of you two..some flashy shot of you two kissing and holding hands. Appearing happily in love, only to be followed by droves of comments full of negative and downright nasty things about you guys. Saying that it would never work and you were only a temporary thing who ‘just so happened to make it further than the rest..’ it certainly wasn’t a vote of confidence considering you were about to spend the rest of your life together. For the better part of three years, you had come to know and love the renowned artist, EJ the Don. A man who’s music transcended all of time and pushed boundaries..a generational talent with exceptional skill. At least those were the words used to describe him by a plethora of magazines over the years. On the contrary, others would acclaim that he was a bit of a playboy. That he hurt people at will with no regard for their feelings..sabotaging relationships purposefully so that he was no longer bound to them. He didn’t care about anyone other than himself.

However, you knew otherwise. EJ, as far as you were concerned, was an entirely different entity of itself. You had fallen for Eren..the man who’d leave the studio at night tired and exhausted but still managed to have fresh flowers and your favorite treats in hand. The man who’d curl up with you on rainy days and binge movies. The Eren you loved would comfort you relentlessly until you were far batter. Making you laugh and cheer up with the dumbest jokes..that’s the kind of person he was. So it came without question, when one night on the rooftop of a hotel in Greece; surrounded by fluorescent blue lights, a lavish table filled with wine and rose petals next to the serene pool waters where he asked you to be his wife, you’d immediately accept. Saying yes faster than he could get the proposal out. You were elated to not only spend the rest of your life with him but share the exciting news with the world and those you loved. To your surprise though, you weren’t met with the warm reception that you had pictured in your head.

once the announcement came, the rumors followed and there was no escaping them. Even so called friends were hesitant. Telling you that he used to go with this model and date this girl so it was best to watch out. Some even suggested calling the whole thing off to spare you from future heartache...and you’d be lying if you said that they hadn’t worn you down. That you hadn’t wondered if there was a bit of truth to them. But if there was anything he was dedicated to doing, it was setting your mind at ease and proving all of them wrong.

“…room for one more?”

the voice ringing from earshot and sending flutters throughout the pit of your belly. You’d flip over onto your side with a faint beam as your fiancé made his way over to you. “For you? Anytime..” Kneeling into the mattress as he brushes a hand along your bare shoulder blade, leaning forward to place a kiss on your temple. It seemed that the effects of the dreary, rainy day had taken its toll on him as well. Sporting a pair of sweats and a tank top, indicating that he was finished with his work for the day and ready to relax with the one person who brought him serenity. Ironically, there was something rather tranquil about weather like this..whereas most people saw it as something negative; a literal damper in their plans, some took it as an opportunity to purify themselves. Not so much in a literal regard but it was perfect to just lie here and let all of those feelings that normally wouldn’t make their way to the forefront be known. Coiling one of those toned, tattooed arms around (y/n)’s covered torso, Eren began to mumble into your skin..simultaneously leaving gentle pecks along your arm. “This rain kinda sucks, doesn’t it? It’s so depressing..” “..yeah..it is.” The dryness in your response caused an immediate alarm for your fiancé. That was the thing with Eren..even when it seemed as if he were completely nonchalant and not paying you much attention, he focused on the smallest details and kept note.

there were things about you that he had noticed early on in your relationship and still to this day, could remember them better than you could. “I see it’s already working on someone…” making an attempt at a light hearted joke and even smirking afterwards, hoping that his humor would bring at least a faint smile to your face. He hated seeing you like this..hated knowing that something was obviously bothering you and you wouldn’t tell him the cause. In fact, he picked up on it three days ago when he saw you sitting outside near the pool, glaring off into space at what seemed to be nothing. In the same regard, he wasn’t the type to pry..he knew how irksome he felt when someone pestered him so he figured it best to wait for an opportune moment to confront you. Now seemed like as good of a time as any. He never did well with communicating his feelings either so he used jokes and humor as a means to break the proverbial ice. But luckily, he wouldn’t need some awkward segway because you’d ask him something that would make his stomach turn.

“..do you think we did the right thing?”

admittedly and rightfully so, he was a little confused. What ‘right thing’ were you referring to exactly?

“As in what?”

“Getting engaged..moving in together. Are we really meant to be here?” The words seemed to be spilling from between your lips as if they had been sitting there for quite some time. It was a little insulting nonetheless. As if you had waited for this exact moment. But he’d be lying if he said that they hadn’t stung a bit. He figured the two of you were equally yoked and on the same page. Happy to be marrying your forever person. At least that’s what he felt..were you having doubts? Did you not love him as much as he loved you? What had he done wrong? Swallowing the hard lump that had instantly formed in his throat, Eren proceeded to ask questions, seeing if he could maybe get through to you to figure out what was wrong.

“Is there something that would make you think different? I mean, personally..I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real..”

for a moment, he began to reminisce on the moments leading up to the night he popped the question. Searching relentlessly for the perfect ring..enlisting the help of his best friends and even your girls to ensure that it was one that you’d love. He took extra special care to make the night unforgettable. Eren had even flown to go see his mom to ask for the gift she had given him years ago that he now wanted to give to you..if that wasn’t enough, he’d even taken you to your granny’s grave and asked for her blessing of sorts. He was a wreck, even crying because he was so happy and wanted her to know that he’d take care of you from now on..for the first time in his young twenty seven years, he was truly grateful and he wanted nothing more than to be the ideal man for you. A husband that you’d be proud of..one that you bragged to your friends about over lunch, one that you’d dip out on plans early to get back to. That was the type of relationship he had envisioned; one where nothing else mattered when you two were together. Now it seemed that you were having reservations..

“I’m so scared…” Just then, the sounds of your words were muddled by whimpers. He had no idea that you were this conflicted by the matter..and if so, why not say something?! Flipping you over, he’d be met with your beautiful brown eyes that always seemed to burst with love and excitement were welling with tears that were only moments from spilling. Brushing your cheek, Eren gazed upon you with a worried expression over taking his face. How could he have been so dumb?..here you were hurting and he hadn’t even clocked it. “Why, baby? I don’t understand..of what?” Truth was, you were afraid of marriage in general but even more so, if not being what you envisioned. You were afraid of things not being picturesque and perfect. That you’d wake up one day and end up just like the rest of the girls he’d supposedly dumped. Discarded to the wayside after he grew tired of them. You didn’t want everyone to be right about the two of you! Another passed around Instagram model with nothing of substance to offer, a philandering rapper with commitment issues..the headlines were certain to be brutal. But above all else..you only wanted to do this once. You only ever wanted to walk down that aisle one time in your life. You loved this man more than anything in this world so the last thing you wanted was to take his hand in marriage only to be sliding that ring off a few years down the road. It was a sacred thing and you never wanted to lose sight of that.

“Of this..of us not working out. I mean, I love you so much and there’s nothing I want more than to be your wife but everywhere I turn, it seems like somebody wants the opposite. As if we’re not meant to be. I thought everyone would’ve been as happy as we are. But it’s always something..”

granted, he was no stranger to the gossip either. Between his fangirls and the blogs, they wouldn’t give you a break. They were furious that someone had snatched up their precious EJ and it was some girl who seemingly came out of nowhere. According to them, you weren’t his type, you couldn’t possibly love him the way he deserved and there were at least ten other women who were more fit to take your position. It was insane. Although he was never much for social media and its sick antics, he’d done his fair share of defense for you. Which spoke volumes. After a while, he rid himself of all accounts and focused solely on you. Despite it being how you made your living, he wished you’d do the same. He couldn’t imagine petty accusations with zero basis being the reason that he lost you. It would crush him, truly. Even so, he’d done as he always had at times like these and pulled you close to his chest, swaddled you in those muscular arms and peppered your forehead with gentle kisses.

“Do you remember the first night we met? At the club?” It seemed like such an odd time to be going down memory lane but that’s how Eren was..he could tolerate a lot of things but seeing you cry was not one of them. So he wanted to try a different approach.

“I couldn’t forget. I had such a good time..”

“So did I..hell, I was so nervous around you, I almost messed up my whole performance that night.” The two of you break into a small fit of laughter as you look back on the antics of your earlier days together. The wild nights, the hookups, the tension leading up to you making things official..it was all a journey. You’d find yourself giggling as he held you close to him. You seemed far more comfortable and vulnerable now; able to express your feelings more freely. Which was a great thing for him.

“Please..I couldn’t even concentrate. You kept teasing me and shit. I don’t know how I made it through that without embarrassing myself.” But alas, he’d think it was cute. Watching you stumble over your words, seeing you squeeze your thighs together when he switched up those steamier lyrics to fit you and when he ran a finger underneath your chin, you nearly collapsed! Being on stage with your celebrity crush was not for the weak..

“Yeah, but you did and do you remember what everyone was saying after that? All the bullshit they said about us?” It was something you’d never forget, truthfully. For days after, the infamous photo of you guys hugged up on a lounge couch in the VIP section circulated the web for an entire week. There were countless headlines, alleging that you two were an item, that you were hooking up..the game of telephone had become so terrible that three days later, stan accounts and grown adults alike had concocted stories of you two having sex backstage and him doing inappropriate things right there in front of everyone. Even so called ‘witnesses’ backed up the claims. Naturally, all of it was false but it still didn’t stop people from running with whatever narrative they saw fit. Despite the fact that prior to that appearance, you’d never ever laid eyes on this man, less known did all of the things they accused you of. You were complete strangers..again, it stopped no one’s rumor mill from running!

“Yeah..I do. All of it just sounded like people had too much time on their hands.”

but his point wasn’t quite driven home yet..still clutching you, he’d chuckle once more and just nod. “Mhm..and what about when we first started dating? Remember the dumb shit they said then?” Once again, you’d answer his question, giggling when you recalled how stupid it all was. From the accusations of him being nothing more than a pay pig for some lavish lifestyle they claimed you were flexing online. Or that he wasn’t really faithful because he did a show with a former ‘partner’, who was nothing more than a PR stunt to begin with. Nevermind the fact that she was a lesbian! “Like when they said you were cheating on me with your ex? Trust me, I couldn’t escape that one even if I wanted to.” “Which was crazy because she was way more interested in you than me. Even asked me for your number..” seeing his expression furrow into a silly pout and you couldn’t hold it together another second. You’d burst into laughter at the thought. “I’m serious! She got mad because I didn’t bring you with me..must think I’m stupid or sum’. Little Miss Hoes always pulled more girls than I ever could.” The mental image of a one hundred thirty pound, five foot four blonde stealing his potential prospects had you rolling around and in much better spirits. “You’re a mess, you know that?” Which was his one and only goal.

“Well I’m glad somebody found my lack of game funny.” But truthfully, the only woman he wanted was right here. Which was the entire point of this little roundabout trip down memory lane..it didn’t matter what happened back then or what people claimed to know about him..he only cared about what was to come. The life, the future that he was building with you trumped over anything that they could say. They didn’t know how drastically he had changed for you. How he was hopelessly in love..how much softer and compassionate he had become so he was a better man for you. Even when you weren’t around, his beloved (y/n) was the topic of conversation..oftentimes, his boys would make fun of him for how much of a ‘simp’ he had grown to be. How his voice changed in pitch when you were on the phone, his eyes radiating whilst talking to you..it was the cutest thing! So if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that he was all in. He had no regrets or doubts about asking you to marry him. He was ready. Anybody from his past was a mere afterthought and he wasn’t missing out. All he could do was pray that you felt the same. Turning your head towards him, EJ looked you directly in the eyes and began to speak.

“Listen, princess..I know it isn’t easy. Being with someone like me. I’m not perfect..not by a long shot. Truth is, I was really selfish back in the day. I wasn’t thinking about anybody but myself. Hell, until you came along, I still didn’t. I had always told myself I’d never let anyone get close to me just so I didn’t have to worry about another person. Marriage, dating..seemed like a foreign concept to me..” this was the first time in his life where he was able to be vulnerable..where he could lay all of his emotions bare. Intertwining your fingers together, Eren pulled them close and placed gentle kisses across your knuckles. A comforting tactic for the both of you.

“But right now...there’s nothing else I want more than to be your husband. To keep making more of these memories..(Y/N), I couldn’t imagine doing this without you. I can’t take back what I’ve done or who I was. And I’m so sorry that you’ve had to be on the receiving end of it. But I don’t care about what happened back then or what they say about us. I love you..I love you so damn much. Please believe me when I say that.” By this point, faint traces of tears began to stream once more. You were no longer sad, hurt or worried but rather..relieved. Relieved that his heart was equally devoted to this as yours. You’d do whatever it took to make this work. Outside interferences and opinions aside..

“And I love you more, Eren. I promise, I won’t let anything or anyone come between us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

No relationship was ideal and obviously, just like rainy days, bad ones were guaranteed as well but you could always weather the storm as long as you were together..

#aot x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #musician x influencer au #aot eren jaeger #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #aot eren #aot au #collab event #songfic #black fem reader #eren yeager #eren x reader #aot #cherry’s works 🍒✨ #black reader #aot fluff #eren x reader fluff #eren fluff #aot angst #eren aot #black fanfiction #eren jaeger fluff #eren yeager fluff #snk drabble #aot drabbles #eren imagines #eren headcanons #eren #eren x y/n

[onlyseokmins]

$$60 billion (part 1) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: eventual smut (minors dni!), trigun!au action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, death, gore, guns, injuries, destruction, mentions of knives, weapons, violence, creepy monsters and creatures, ptsd, moral ambiguities, dark topics tbh, smoking, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, platonic (but not really) nakedness, reader is operating on a short fuse bc I believe u have to be built different for this universe, their communication is abt to be as poor as the plant life 💀 Seungcheol kinda his own warning imho, biggest apology to chan, and we all love seok sm bc he sings abt total slaughter 🙇🏻‍♀️ WC: 19.5k of 32.7k | Part 2 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I feel like the boys may seem ooc but I had a lot of fun putting this together 😌 Thank you Summer and Isa for hosting this collab and your utmost patience in me finally writing my piece! I hope everyone enjoys this and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!!

Everyone wanted Lee Seokmin. 

The cities' great militaries. Bounty hunters. Bandits on the roads. Criminals escaping death row. Prowling pirate gangs. His twin brother. You. 

Though you reckoned your "want" for him was a bit… different from others. Well, at least you hope so, goddamn it. 

You shiver. 

At first, you wanted him just like the mass majority would one day as well — dead. The deed swiftly carried out with a silver pistol aimed at his temple.

Besides, your blood-thirst began before the destruction of July. Unlike most, who angrily shake their fists at the gaping crater on the fifth moon in the spirit of pure vengeance. Yes, the tragic incident of the great city that upped the bounty dangling over his head like a noose to a sixty billion double dollars reward. But Little Ivywood was the first of many places that would end up reduced to ruins after Lee Seokmin set foot there.

Wiped off the map. Wiped from history. Wiped from existence. But never forgotten. Especially not by the small town's only known survivor — you.

Your earliest memories contain little about the events that led up to being left on the doorstep of Little Ivywood's unofficial orphanage. How could they when you were just a baby? One swaddled in a ratty cloth weighted down by a rusted pistol. There was just one simple hint to your past — scribbled nearly illegible on a torn piece of paper dotted with blood — and could only be what the nuns had to assume was your name.

At least that's how Sister Meryl relayed the tale whenever asked, her hands clasped tightly together in praise and gratitude to the Saint that delivered you to them unharmed. The irony, considering Sister Lucia always looks like she'll faint just like the day she opened the convent's side door. It wasn't an easy sight to see or recall, the image of a wailing infant mouthing on the empty muzzle of a gun.

Neither versions of your origin story could be that far off thanks to the scar marring your left hand and the gun held tightly in your right. You've had both for as long as you can remember. And as you grew and changed, so did they.

The scar shrunk and faded through the years, seemingly forgotten amongst a myriad of other markings littered across your skin. Over time, the pistol's rusted parts were repaired or replaced and soon, its shine and character returned. Restored to its former glory while forging a new beginning ahead with a different owner.

But there were two things that stayed constant throughout your years at the orphanage. The first was your birth name. Not even the nuns, who generally loved bestowing scriptural monikers as if they were granting rich titles to unnamed orphans, tried to change yours. The second was a person who you still refuse to call by his baptismal name — Chan.

He helped you, became an assistant of sorts. Originally just some snot-nosed, beanpole of a fellow orphan you didn't really pay much attention to. A scared kid who cried way too loudly even after you'd even taken the time to demonstrate that the gun was safe after he'd been the one continuously pestering to see it. Very much to Sister Constance's chagrin, since it all went down in the middle of confessional time.

But curiosity eventually overturned the initial fear.

Lucky, because by acquiring bravery, Chan could discover his innate talent for gunsmithing. Lanky, noodle arms transformed into well-formed, sinewy muscles. The soft baby skin of his hands roughened with callouses as he whittled away near the convent's underground furnace. He'd spend hours down there, returning with sweat, grime, and charcoal smudged all over his skin after melting together the random metal objects found by digging beneath the basement's unfinished floor.

The Sisters disliked dirt and grime all over the children and tracked through the doors. But it was hard to keep clean out in the middle of a sandy desert. Complaints dwindled thanks to the fellow orphans who would stop their mischief to watch Chan work. And as time passed, his shoulders broadened further, his voice began to deepen, his dark hair grew longer, and those brown eyes started to sparkle with something different from simple, fleeting passion — it was a dream.

The excitable boy would tell you all about it under the stars. Late into the nights when you searched for what had to be remnants of Earthen materials from the Big Fall, he'd chatter on and on.

"Once we're actual adults," — free from the guardianship requirement provided from the orphanage — "we're gonna leave Lil Ivywood behind and explore the great wastelands of Gunsmoke!"

You snort at the ridiculousness of such an idea. "And how do you think we'll survive?"

"Easy-peasy, I'm gonna build a bunch of guns and we're gonna end up so rich. And famous!"

"Yeah, sure. Throw a couple double dollars at the worms, I'm sure they'll let us pass with no problem."

Not one to be deterred by your eternal sarcasm, Chan shakes his head."Nah, that's where you come in. Didn't think I'd let you freeload, right?"

He stands and stretches both of his arms straight out, the ones your roommate had started to gush over. Hands clasped together like Sister Meryl's always do before prayer time and then extending both pointer fingers into a mock handgun, out into the distant sand dunes one rarely dares to stray.

"You gotta be a sharpshooter to not let my hard work go to waste!"

You lazily take aim next to him, handling the freshly restored pistol with uncharacteristic gentleness. While it might officially be yours, it's also Chan's baby.

"Mm-hm, me and my killer skills."

And then you both dissolve into laughter.

It was such a pipe dream and yet; it didn't seem utterly impossible. There were little moments you let yourself imagine it, too — just until the suns peep their heads above the horizon. There was no way you could defend yourself — let alone another person — from the dangers of the desert or it would've been something you'd attempted years ago.

But when Chan spoke of his plans under the glow of the orbiting full moons, confidently mapping an adventure through an area he's never been to or seen before, and dreamed — he easily pulled you under his spell too. It was contagious, exciting, addicting, and most of all — it could really be… possible.

An armory of grade-A weapons. The bank account overflowing with double dollars. Endless boxes of bullets and the refined skills to shoot them; you were the force to be reckoned with and a protector of those who couldn't do it for themselves.

"Do you think… we could really succeed?" you ask one night, running a finger along the familiar engravings on your gun's grip panel.

Chan's grin was as shiny as the circular metal shell he was carving into. You refuse to look his way because of how infectious it could be. Plus, the main reason it was so stinking bright was due to this being the first time you verbally entertained his ideas.

"Oh-ho-ho, doubt my capabilities?"

"Obviously."

If offended — he was not — by the instant agreement, there was no sign of it. Instead, he focused back onto his handicraft, knowing you would eventually spill your true thoughts if he was patient.

There was no rush tonight after all. A star-filled expanse of black blanketed across the sky — one he hoped would never change to blue.

"More like… it's just going to be so risky!"

"And that's why you'll be the —"

"But I've never even held a gun before!" You spot Chan pointedly direct the corner of his gaze to where your hands rest, causing you to flinch them away from the weapon and wave around haphazardly as your cheeks heat. "I mean, like, to shoot! Sister Lucia always says it'd be too dangerous."

"Sister Lucia thinks water that doesn't flow directly out of the holy grail is dangerous."

"Technically, that's true."

"Oh god, she's got you thinkin' the same, too!"

"But she'd probably rather swear by the Saint than ever let me get any bullets…" The thought alone of the devout nun saying the Savior's name in vain makes both of you smirk but yours falls just as quick as it came. "And we're going to need those if we ever want to leave Little Ivywood."

"Well —"

"And I… I'd have to kill things! People, too. I don't know if I can do that, I —"

" — Think fast!"

It's his turn to interrupt, chipper voice ever optimistic as he tosses the finished trinket your way. Thankfully, your reflexes work fast enough to catch it nimbly in time. The oval is hot to the touch after hovering over searing flames and despite its small size, weighs down your right palm as you glance over its etchings.

Satisfied, Chan takes that as his cue to walk toward the nook that shields you from the roaring heat of the furnace. Squatting down so he's eye-level with your knees, he brushes back his tangled mess of hair with one hand and taps knowingly at the barrel of the pistol with the other.

"There's no reason to kill anyone or anything."

"But this can hurt people… I could hurt people."

"You've had this ever since you were a baby and never harmed anyone with it."

"It's… it's never been loaded or…"

"Doesn't need to be. If you smacked someone with it, they'd surely feel that hit." He snickers, tone bordering on the edge of cockiness. "I would know, considering the sturdy and valuable materials used for repairs."

You roll your eyes and mutter, "Show-off," but it lacks true malice behind it.

"And even so," Chan takes one of his hands and pats the back of your free one, unintentionally right over the spot where your scar lies. "You've hurt no one before. Not even me, who annoys you the most!"

"About time you finally realized how merciful I am."

He says your name in earnest, remaining uncharacteristically serious and lays your intertwined hands on top of the gun before squeezing tightly. "Both this and you don't have to kill a single thing or person — ever — if that's not what you want to do. You can aim for non-vital points, shoot up in the air… Bullets or no bullets, just the sight of a weapon alone can be enough of a deterrent for most."

Chewing hesitantly on your lower lip, you let his words sink in and he continues.

"The fact you're aware of the hundreds of risks when handling a weapon like this means you'll be even more cautious when using it. I trust you, so trust in yourself."

Warmth spreads from your interlocked hands and through your entire body like you're wrapped in another one of his sweet hugs, culminating into tears threatening to spill past your lash line. Chan believed in you and though you'd never admit it aloud, it meant the world to you.

"When did you grow up so much?" you tease, letting out an exhale you didn't realize was being held.

"Aw, c'mon! I've been taller than you for months now!"

"Keep dreamin' if it makes you feel better."

Though Chan sasses back by sticking his tongue out, he lets you ruffle his sweaty bangs despite receiving a slightly bruised forehead in return because you forget about the new gift in your hand. Plotting an escape, he stands and pulls you up with him, joined by your clasped hands.

"We should probably head back. Sister Constance's likely gonna ask us to check the Plant before morning mass and you don't want her to catch you dozing off again."

"Last I recall, you were the one she caught napping!"

"But you have the most demerits this week."

"And whose fault is that?!"

Quick as lightning, he nudges you with enough strength to catch you off guard and destabilize your balance. Then he tears away, calling over his shoulder, "Snooze and ya lose!"

"Ugh, this is exactly why — you never play fair!"

Regathering your bearings at record speed, you dash right after Chan. The boy's raucous laughter echoes in your own lungs and you swear the stars twinkle brighter in the nighttime sky. You overtake him right before reaching the convent's door — the same one you were left on — and clutch at his arm before he can reach past to open it.

"Hey… thanks."

He grins all goofy. Chan's well aware you mean much more than that, but he opts to flick your forehead rather than give you grief over it. "Yeah, yeah. I do so much for you, you know?"

"Mm-hm."

"So it's about time to finally pick a name I can carve onto that bad boy. If you don't, I'll put mine there." He nods to your gun excitedly, then points to the oval. "Oh, and I'll make a chain for that soon. Did you decide what you'll put inside?"

"Questions, questions, demands, demands." You wave him off and open the door with a yawn. "I'll think of one. And yeah, you know that Earthen gadget we found? Gonna cut out those papers and put them in there before sleeping."

Once while digging for materials, you had stumbled across a square object that wasn't completely destroyed, unlike many others. After a few experiments of messing with the random knobs and buttons, you determined it could mimic whatever was directly in front of the clear coated lenses. And later — much to your amusement and amazement — it printed out the image on thick, shiny squares.

Fascinating little things those Earthlings created!

You'd luckily put the last few sheets left in the machine to good use. Experimenting with the surrounding scenery that blurrily featured some of Ivywood's buildings, then one of Chan, and finally wrangled a frame that captured both of you together.

"Do you think you'll be able to stabilize it?"

Your tentative question makes him look toward the large, bulbous structure that houses the Plant. The power source Little Ivywood depended upon.

He sports a cheery grin. "Won't know 'til I've tried!"

"Ever considered too much confidence might be a bad thing?"

"If you're jealous, just say so. But with you by my side, there's nothing we can't accomplish together!" He bounces excitedly on his heels. "Besides, I forgot to mention…" Beckoning you with a hand to come closer, you lean in, curious. "I've become quite the master at bargaining. There won't be a single worm who'll refuse a double dollar from the great Chan!"

"What did you do?"

"What haven't I done?"

"You're the worst. Like to ever exist."

"The absolute best, you mean 'cause there'll be no reason for you to waste any bullets or fear cutting a single lifespan short!"

"Goodnight, Chan."

"You mean 'thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Chan!' but whatever! You can make it up to me tomorrow!"

But tomorrow never came.

Or rather — daybreak arrived in the unrecognizable form of rapid gunfire and screams of terror. The buildings rattled, trembled, and shook from the onslaught just like the people cowering in fear within them.

The dust stirred up in the chapel's hall after a wall unexpectedly collapsed causes you to cough. Amidst the chaos and panic, you spare a glance over your shoulder to see Sister Meryl, who strides confidently to the altar.

She stands with poise and purpose in front of the marbled stone. Steadfast and unwavering in strength because of her faith alone, even as the grand statue of the Saint starts crumbling down with the ceiling tiles falling around it.

It's a visual you're not likely to forget, carved deep into your memory before you flee with the rest. Sister Lucia is flustered as usual, ushering everyone as fast as she can near the grand oak doors that lead out to where additional shouting can be heard and only more pandemonium must await outside.

You're struck with the damning realization.

The gods — they have completely abandoned humankind.

"That would be ten demerits any other day," Sister Constance voice abruptly snaps, "fortunately for you, now is not the time for such things."

It's astonishing how even at this moment, the nun remains on high alert for 'troublemakers'. Her sharp-nailed fingers latch around your wrist as she breezes by — much too similar to when you've been dragged off to detention. And as if that's what's happening, your heels plant firmly in the ground and obstinately tug her back a step.

"What about Sister Meryl? We can't just leave!"

"If you knew what was good for you, you'll obediently obey me. But if you knew that, you'd recognize faithfulness will guide her and the rest of us to safety."

"Nothing guarantees —"

"Those who do not devote themselves truthfully will never understand. Should the Saint deem Sister Meryl's sacrifice to be in vain, then she has failed not only the Holy Bishop and our sacred bonds, but you — one she unnecessarily dotes on — as well."

You want to argue and protest as Sister Constance yanks you forward. But the faint tremors you feel despite the tight grip of her hand and the tensed jawline of the woman whose stoic face is normally unbreakable makes you pause.

She's shaken. She's unsure. She's wavering.

Sister Constance doubts.

And something about that thrills you. Terrifyingly so.

The shock of it all is as startling as the pale sunlight blinding your eyes when the chapel's heavy doors finally get thrown open. Grains of sand swirl through Little Ivywood, diluting the usual brightness of the glowing orbs in the sky and their powerful rays.

A sandstorm brews on the horizon.

That's the least of your worries, though. Blood stains the soil where shrapnel grazed tender flesh. Fellow orphans scream and cry out from their wounds as they struggle to get away from the captors attempting to drag them to the center of town.

With a chill, you alarmingly realize who they're trying to escape from. Women in black and white robes don a wild, crazed look on their faces. The ones who have raised and cared for parentless children throughout many years and tended to every need they could within their means.

The Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood.

Sister Constance turns and you jump. Both at the horrors of the present and a reminder of how many times a quick movement of hers led to the sharp pain of a switch or ruler tearing into skin. An eerie sound of laughter rings out and your blood runs cold, eyes darting left and right for the source.

And then through the dust particles, looms the sinister silhouette of a figure in a long trench coat flapping in the wind. Spiked hair sticks straight up, retaining its menacing style despite the powerful wind gusts and emphasizing an already impressive height. You gulp, swearing there's a flash of metal followed by a fanged smirk that glints dangerously as Sister Constance tugs you closer to the terrifying shadow beast shrouded by sand swirling in the air.

A declaration of your given name — stern and cold. "Know that your purpose is being fulfilled, that you are serving the great —"

And then comes a shout of your name, this time from someone desperate and panicked. You're yanked forward and then suddenly catapulted backward, grunting at the impact of your body slamming against someone else's.

"You need to go! You need to get out of here!"

"Chan?!"

He clings to you, shifting so his back is to the nun only a few paces past the corner he dashed around for safety and to stall for time. Throwing a cautious look over his shoulder before whispering urgently, "Go! And don't look back!"

"What about you?"

"Don't mind me." The smooth leather of a satchel presses against your palm. "Get movin'!"

"But —"

"Seriously," the boy shoves you forward with a not-so-gentle push. You gape at the audacity and he waves his hand, like he's shooing away a pesky flying worm. Rude. "Please! I'll be right behind you but —"

An eruption of nearby gunfire and a series of high-pitched shing!-like noises interrupt him. He glances again over his shoulder. You cautiously step forward and his head whips back to let out a hiss.

"Chan, what's —"

"Need to grab a few more things, see if any other idiots need help. Just… just get out of town, wait for me by the rocks if it'll make you feel better." He smiles, though it doesn't make those brown eyes of his sparkle like usual. "It'll… it'll all be okay."

You're uncertain and scared. But something about Chan's speaking powers have always made you believe in the impossible. So, you nod resolutely while taking the bag from him and warn, "Promise you'll be safe."

"You hate those kinds of things."

It's true. To you, promises were only made to be broken. And yet…

"… And somehow you've changed my mind before."

The bangs of carnage draw closer. Louder.

"Fine, just go. Please! And don't look back!"

Acquiescing to his pleas, you sprint toward where he pointed. Sitting like giant sentinels lays an outcrop of boulders bordering the western edge of Little Ivywood. The desert is only two paces away, expanding outward into a desolate plain filled with the undulating slopes of dunes. Picking a sizable rock to hide behind, you keep watch for Chan, cringing at the distant sound of gunshots still rapidly being fired.

What was that? What did you see? And what did you almost get dragged into?

What was going on?

Boom!

It's an ear-shattering noise that causes even the great stones around you to tremble from the explosion. A flare of light so bright leaves you no choice but to look away to protect your eyes, ducking behind the rocks as a shield.

When you recover after it dissipates to see what just happened — Little Ivywood is no more.

It's gone.

"No…"

The tiny town reduced to only rubble and ash. What once were rows of square buildings stacked on top of each other to divert the view of a relatively flat lay of the land are now parallel to its surroundings.

"No… no… no…"

Gone.

You don't think twice about running toward the wreckage. Chan is there. Chan has to be there!

"No!"

And most importantly, he has to be alright.

Broken piles of the shoddy architecture littering the landscape prevents you from traversing too far. Bile rises in your throat as you desperately scan for a sign — any sign — for Chan. For survivors. For anyone. Even the air is still, no longer rippling with irritable heat waves and heavy gusts of wind because the blast was strong enough to ward off nature itself and the incoming sandstorm.

For now.

And during the futile search, that's when you spot him. On his knees with his back to you, slouched over in the only clear space amidst the destruction. The tattered fabric of a cerise garment hangs off the man's broad shoulders and pools around his body like a puddle of blood. Reddish-brown bangs tinged with black hang limply as his chin curls further and further into his chest.

I don't understand, you vent to yourself after a couple ungraceful vaults and stumbling through the debris to get closer. This bastard got what he wanted, did what he wanted, and won! So, why is he acting like that? Who destroyed his town? His people?

Finally, you're a couple steps behind him. Thankful, at the very least, for whatever weird state this man is in because it grants you the opportunity to approach and press the cold steel of your pistol to the side of his temple.

"Don't. Move."

You hope it comes out as the threatening command you intend it to be. There's a tense beat of silence as you wait for his next move until you realize he's doing exactly what you demanded.

Then he chuckles. A choked out, watery sort of sound. Your hands start shaking even as they press the barrel harsher against his head.

"Go ahead and shoot."

"Answer me first." Your voice becomes as unsteady as the quakes in your body and you rasp out, "Why… why'd you do it?"

His head lifts and you flinch, but he takes no further action besides staring blankly ahead at the ruins. "I wish I could tell you but… I've been asking myself the same question."

"I — you…! You wreak hell and havoc upon a whole innocent town and… and you don't even know why?!"

"Pathetic, isn't it?" The man laughs again, without a shred of humor. A gloved hand reaches up to wrap around the weapon and you momentarily falter at the force of him leaning into it. The weight pushing it closer into his skull seems hard enough to leave a nasty imprint, as if that should be a main concern right now. "I'd simply like to know how I did it."

"I —"

"Not loaded," he sighs and drops his hand, twisting around to actually get a proper look at whoever was holding him at gunpoint.

You're taken aback by the intensity of death radiating in those dark brown irises that casually observe you through amber-colored, cracked lenses. Your arms fall down, dumbfounded at the stranger's unflinching behavior, the pistol bumping into your thigh. He lets out a "tsk" and then pulls something out of his pocket.

In his opposite palm, clad in a fingerless glove unlike the left, rests a conical golden object. Though you've never seen one in real life before, you think you know what it is. The shape matches the hollow outlines when Chan disassembled the chambers of your gun.

"A cartridge," he says and you blink. "A bullet," he clarifies upon noticing your confusion. Then the man smiles encouragingly. "Go on. Take it."

You're incredulous. "You're okay with handing that over to me?"

"It's what you want, right?" There's a wistful look on his face. "This place… it was your home."

"No," you're quick to refute, shocked at such an automatic response. Then admitting, "I don't even know what a home is."

Innocent town, my ass, is what you derisively admit inward and snort at yourself.

The convent itself was far from comforting. The other orphans with their bright grins when Saint Meryl sang lullabies on the nights you couldn't sleep — those were the kinds of things that made it bearable.

Guilt.

"I — I —"

It overwhelms your senses. Rattling up your entire nervous system and settling a cruel, cruel weight in your chest. You hunch over, chest heaving, and throat burning. There's a thump as your gun falls to the ground, its silvery sharp edges becoming distorted, warped, and blurred through a film of unshed tears in your widened eyes.

"Should've… It should've —"

"Hey, hey…"

"It should've been me!"

The man rises to his full height, brushing off his clothes before crouching down. A sturdy hand grips your shoulder and dutifully encourages your gasping upper body into an upright position. Gently, ever so fragile, he bops your forehead with his and you subconsciously lean against the unexpected support.

He's near enough to ground you to something solid. But distant enough for two strangers whose first meeting is one amidst a crumbling town's travesty. With his close presence comes the scent of gun smoke, though not as bitterly pungent and putrid as you recall from before. It's subtle and smokey, reminiscent of the fire that Chan once proudly stoked in his makeshift forge.

Your body shakes as the tears finally slip free.

"All lives are equally precious, one shouldn't be sacrificed for another."

"… How can… how can you say that so… easily?"

The death-come-over look in his eyes changes to something faraway. Like he's seeing something beyond the destruction surrounding both of you. Those amber lenses don't have to be cracked to draw attention to the fracturing despair radiating behind them.

Then, he shakes his head and shrugs. "Because you should live even when those dear to you are gone. This world is made of love and peace, after all."

Your crying abruptly pauses with the natural effort it takes to let out a scoff. Ignoring your utter scorn and disbelief, the man's gaze drifts to the pistol still on the ground. The tip of a steel-toed boot kicks it up into the air with a flourish, single-handedly catching it to inspect the weapon with practiced ease.

"Live because there's a reason you survived, even if you loathe every second of it. You'll feel like you don't deserve it. But persevere because you should. Because that's what they would've wanted and you keep them alive by living yourself. A burden? Maybe. Why spend such a cursed blessing only dwelling in regret when you can do so much more?"

He offers the gun back, its handle extended in your direction.

"If nothing else, live for yourself most importantly. Help show the world the love and peace it deserves. Even if it couldn't afford to gift it to you. That's what life is all about. The ticket to the future is always blank!" Pausing, he shrugs with a regret-filled smile on his face. "At least that's what I was taught… and what I think."

"… Awfully full of optimism for some dude who wiped out a full town and doesn't even know why."

"Name's Seokmin," he returns, now sporting a cheeky grin as you cautiously reach out for the pistol. Only to be outsmarted with a literal 'sleight-of-hand' and meeting the warmth of fingers and a gloved palm instead of the expectation of hard, cold, and familiar steel.

"Huh?"

"Lee Seokmin, to be precise! And it's a pleasure to meet 'cha! Erm, despite the… terrible circumstances." Seokmin jiggles the gun in front of you with his other hand, almost taunting you to reach for it again.

You don't.

"And what do you call this lovely lady?"

"Nothing."

"A shame. But not everyone cares to name things, 'specially if they don't hold any value." He finally tosses it back and you barely manage to catch it in time with a scowl.

"Just haven't decided."

"I see! Mine's Geranium."

"Oh, like… the flower?"

He visibly perks up at that even further, a radiant smile showcasing two pointy fangs. "You've heard of it?"

"Well," you scratch your cheek, "the, uh, sisters gave a girl that name because of her hair."

There's an uncomfortable pause as the dreadful realization you'll never see those brilliant ruby locks bounce because of her excitement again settles back into your stomach. You swallow, eyes roaming the stranger in front of you for a distraction.

"Um… you must really like the color… red."

Seokmin glances down at the tatters of his scarlet clothes and shrugs. "I guess. Though the one I saw was red, I've heard they come in different colors."

"You've seen a plant? Like a plant plant? A real one! You know — that grows out of the ground and transforms and all that? It doesn't, well…"

Vegetation was a rarely discussed concept. The only thing you knew came out of the poorly written history books in the dusty library's darkest corner. In the desert outskirts, you had a better chance of finding ancient Earth technology that might still be intact to share its plethora of knowledge about the old world humans left behind than hope to find whatever resources the big cities had access to.

"Mm, yeah, a long time ago. But say," he jovially waves the cartridge from before and it glints in the setting rays of the suns. "Would you care to hear this man's story before shooting him?"

And of course, you listened. What other choice did you have, you who lost everything at once? But even back then, something small and precious was planted in the barren depths of your heart. That was just the beginning. It would continue to grow, watered and tended to under the sunny smile of Lee Seokmin — the destroyer of cities and a very wanted man across the planet.

You leave that tiny bit out during the recitation of your past to the inquisitive pastor. Though something you'll regrettably find out later is he's already got you all figured out.

Bastard.

"… So, that's how I met the infamous Lee Seokmin and didn't end up killing him," you declare with a flourish and take a satisfied gulp of cheap beer picked up from some abandoned mart along the way out of Little Jersey.

Draining another bottle dry, you toss away the metal cap, close one eye, and peer through the narrow bottleneck like it's a telescope — albeit a very poor one.

Through the distorted glass stretch endless sand dunes as far as the eye can see. Stars glitter and sparkle amid the glow of the full moons in orbit, temporarily dimmed by a puff of the roguish's man's cigarette that wafts through the inky darkness.

You wonder if he'd be willing to share one.

"A shame," Seungcheol grumbles and offers a white stick from his pocket.

You take it eagerly only to see it's nothing but — a lollipop. The hard candy's become a strange gooey consistency thanks to melting in the desert heat all day and partially re-solidifying during the nighttime's chilly air.

It's stale too.

Fucker.

You let out a disdainful sniff but nod in agreement to his statement. "It is. But he promised me something. Then his bounty increased from a meager six million to sixty billion double dollars after destroying July, putting a hole in the moon, and all that. So… following him around has paid off."

"I guess," he shrugs, "guess I don't really care 'bout yer lil meet-cute story."

You gape at the audacity. "You're the one who fuckin' asked!"

"Well… figured we could bond, ya know? Orphans 'n all that cozy, feel-good shit."

"You know, not a single thing I've said thus far coud be classified as 'cute'."

"Uh-huh."

"And I never took you to be a sentimental fool."

"Hey, now —"

You hold up a hand. "'Thou shall not bear false witness'."

"As if ya even know what that means," Seungcheol retorts and flicks the ashy cigarette stub in your direction, the cross around his neck ironically reflecting in the moonlight. "Was gonna say, if anythin', I put the mental in sentimental, sweet'art."

Well, you certainly wouldn't argue with that point. "…What I do know is that you're doing this all. For him."

"'Ol Needle Noggin, eh?"

"Well… yeah. But he's only part of a bigger picture for you."

"… 'S none o' yer business, ya know? Best to know less."

Your eyes roll. "Sure. That's why you nearly got hit by our car 'cause you wore a suit into the desert and didn't bring a drop of water. All while hauling that stupid, big-ass cross around! And then you insist on joining us — try to scam us! — but hey," you put your hands up, "none of my business."

"Wasn't tryna scam —"

"Hella shady, man... Hella. fuckin'. shady." You're shocked you can see the man's eyes roll in a begrudging defeat behind his black sunglasses — at night, no less — but you nudge him. "C'mon, just tell me! I bet it has to do with Hopeland, something… or someone back at that orphanage."

"Anyone told ya how irritatin' ya are?"

"Only the ones that are equally just as annoying!"

"Tch, woman." Seungcheol messes up the back of his black hair, mouth opening as he cracks his jaw. There's a pregnant pause. "… 'Han was… he was different. Ya wouldn't get it."

"Try me. Evidently you weren't listening very well, were you?" No surprise there. You retrieve the locket that takes refuge beneath your top, a familiar oval swinging from its long chain between the two of you. "Believe it or not, I do get it."

His eyes fixate on it like a pendulum, darting to your face, and then up to the sky. A crooked smile quirks up the corner of his mouth and he lets out a resigned sigh. "Ya really love 'im, don'tcha?"

You feel a funny sensation.

Akin to getting caught in a horde of flying worms and trying to squash down as many as you can. Your answer is hushed and Seungcheol snickers. Unbeknownst to the two of you that an additional pair of ears — assumed to be asleep — also catches your whispered reply.

"So, how much ya gonna pay for confessin'?" the pastor goads and lets out a startled yelp when you try to smash the hand-held bank he totes around that's shaped like a cathedral.

"Oh, go to hell, Choi!"

"Stare any longer and you'll no longer be needin' Sirocco." An amused snicker follows the relaxed drawl. "Bullets're 'bout to start flyin' outta those eyes 'stead of that gun o' yers."

You scowl at the dumb man seated next to you. "It's not like subtlety has ever been a strong suit of yours. But could you at least pay better attention to your surroundings?" A meager amount of golden liquid sloshes against the sides of the glass you pointedly wave around. "Or are you already too drunk to forget where we are?"

"Ain't no lightweight," Seungcheol brags with his fourth pint of the night in hand and a rapacious grin cockily tilting the empty lollipop stick in the corner of his mouth upward. "Can't say the same for the rest, though. Whiskey's stronger than a punch to the gut."

"… You would know. I'm sure it might just taste like water to some by now."

While it might initially elate most visitors to order as many rounds of the only available beverage on the menu as possible, the reality of the situation was much more grim. As if he can read your mind, the man clad in black, gray, and muted silvers flippantly reminds you of why your so-called merry band of travelers are even here.

"Needle Noggin said 'e fixed the Plant up just fine 'n dandy, so here's hopin' we get some clean bathwater t'night."

At those words, your gaze instinctively shoots back to where it focused earlier. Seungcheol snorts and drains his glass with a satisfactory sigh before poking more fun at you.

"Gonna put a hole through his head at this point."

"Not like that's anything new."

"Yeah, but rather than constantly laserin' holes through his skull, ya should be tryna convince him to fill yers up, instead. 'N not referrin' to that empty space behind yer forehead."

"I know exactly what you mean, you perverted freak."

That cracks Seungcheol up. "'N here I was thinkin' ya was gonna end up a nun servin' the Eye of Joshua!"

By now, you're well-accustomed to the hedonistic ways of the man who still keeps a leather band with a cross on it strapped across his Adam's apple, sewn into the cuffs of his black suit, and carries the hulking shape of one on his weary shoulders.

Unfazed, you fire back, "If they even let someone like you into the blessed and holy ranks, then any whore off the streets would be welcome to join."

It's a series of light-hearted jabs you both take in stride. The truth is much darker and deeper, but tonight serves as a tiny snapshot away from the normal weariness of day-to-day survival in Gunsmoke. Right now, you celebrate alongside the residents of Tonim what peace could really look like in the future.

Except you're on edge.

For a reason that's silly compared to the usual adrenaline rush of tracking down Plants nearing red status and defending the area, all the while trying to prevent the inevitable destruction and chaos to follow. Still, it's why you beckon the bartender over for another refill as a positively "tickled-pink" Seungcheol not-so-silently judges.

"Now who's staring?"

"'Kay, but's not with unbridled lust and — " He's cut off by a sharp kick to the side of his shin delivered by one of your heavy combat boots. "And feelin's," gets wheezed out before the pastor falls silent at your nasty scowl paired with Wonwoo's timely arrival.

The saloon owner and de facto authority in town approaches the two of you cautiously. It's no secret who you are, who you're with. What you do and the things that follow when you do what you do. And yet what you've done has saved the town and given its people — especially the younger folk — something that some of them have never experienced before.

Hope.

And that seems to be good enough proof for Wonwoo. Rumors may just be rumors, after all. None of you are like the reports relayed in a tinny voice through the virtually enhanced radios that are non-plant-powered — aka illustriously dubbed by their inventor as VERnons.

"… the Bloody Rain… follows… Lee… Humanoid Typhoon… armed… dangerous. Punisher… cross… machine gun… two unknown… likely… agents…. Bernardelli Insurance…"

The VERnon sitting behind the counter splutters out bits and pieces of information. He side-eyes the device awkwardly and starts fumbling with the buttons, trying to mumble over the static and monotonous voice.

"Can I pour you another drink?"

"Sure," you chuckle, pleased.

The bartender's well-intentioned efforts are fruitless which is to be expected. Only the creator, and those he personally taught, could truly modify the invention as pleased. A part of you hoped to find evidence Hansol had traveled this far but alas, he was probably still searching through the seven major cities for his beloved Milly before attempting to wander through the treacherous wastelands.

A brown, short-haired darling sneaks awe-filled glances at the two of you from the corner where a group of women around your age gather to chat. Seungcheol's the first to catch onto the admiring starry-eyed gaze and winks. Chuckling when a pudgy hand clings tighter to one of the lady's long skirt, using the fabric as a demure little shield against his effortless charisma.

You catch the tail-end of the interaction with the ghost of a smile. If there's one thing that can definitely soften Seungcheol's rough edges, it's children. You can't blame him, reminded of cheery voices and energetic footsteps pounding after your own through the convent's hallways.

The attractive woman wonders what's drawing the younger girl's attention and leans down to whisper in her ear. Gesturing in your direction, you watch as she nods encouragingly and offers a gentle smile, pushing the tiny brunette forward who readily toddles over. The gaps still waiting for pearly white teeth to grow in that shy smile on the little girl's face are endearingly winsome.

"'Lo, Wonu."

The bespectacled man starts, eyes wide as he peers over the counter and just manages to glimpse the top of her mousy brown tufts. "Is that you, Lina? You're not supposed to be here."

"Past yer bedtime, lil one?"

She huffs indignantly at the two men, hands on her hips. "I've once stayed up 'til four in the morning, mister!"

"Oh, Lina…"

"Besides, how can anyone of good standing sleep properly when there's heroes in town?"

"Huh, what a darlin' angel!"

You scoff at your comrade's words. "As if you've ever seen one."

"I do beg your pardon," Wonwoo scrambles to excuse the child's enthusiasm. "Looks like another talk is due with, uh, Sheryl."

"You're just jealous, Wonu. Sherry says they're heroes."

A chubby finger points at you and Seungcheol and the bartender clicks his tongue — partially in reproach and the other half out of embarrassment. The two of you hardly pay any attention to his reaction, seeming to not mind her boldness at all.

"That's right, sweet'art. And don'tchu forget now." In fact, a certain cross-wearing man revels in it. He rummages deep in his pocket and pulls out a lollipop with a flourish. "'N here's a lil magic gift for ya, princess."

You're one step faster, snatching it and unwrapping the candy with a quick inspection. At least it looks fresh and clean. Seungcheol snorts. Ignoring him, you crouch down and hand it to Lina with a gentle smile.

"Remember to be careful with what you take from strangers."

"I know! But you're heroes… and heroes are always good people! You would never hurt me!" Those blue-green eyes are certainly dazzling as she stares into yours, reminiscent of the clean water now filling the town's reservoir. "You're very pretty."

"That might be the highest compliment I've ever received."

"Pretty people don't hurt anyone either! Sherry's super pretty and she's the gentlest I know!"

A very pretty pastor himself snickers for multiple reasons. Meanwhile, Wonwoo laments with a tired sigh, "Dunno what that crazy woman's been teaching her, I swear…"

"You're not supposed to talk about people you like like that, Wonu!" Lina gives them both the stink eye but returns her attention to focus solely on you — Tonim's loveliest savior in her teal-eyed view. "Will I grow up to be as pretty as you?"

Ah, how your heart aches.

"Even prettier."

"I…" She gnaws on her lip, as if it does anything to hide how much her pleased grin glows. "I wanna be a hero, too!"

"Don't see why you wouldn't become one." To you, she already is — in all her innocent radiance and glory.

"Gotta grow big 'n strong first, missy."

"I am strong!"

"Don't doubt it. But wait 'til yer at least twice my age 'fore ya go swingin' at thugs."

She wrinkles her nose. "I'll be in the grave like Grammy if I wait that long, old man!"

Seungcheol guffaws at her unexpected remark and you hear the bartender beg, "Lina, please!" But you focus on all the brilliance in front of you — from precious unkempt locks to blue eyes full of fire and finally to the worn out, dust-covered shoes.

"Hopefully you'll never need a reason to be the hero, though. It's our duty to keep that from happening."

There's too much hidden meaning and brutal experience in your words for her to fully understand. The lull gives a certain pastor an opportunity to sidle back into the conversation, ready to get up to no good as always.

"Ya wanna meet the hero of all heroes, darlin'?"

"Choi —"

"Yeah!" Lina claps ecstatically.

"Go 'head 'n give 'er yer second key," he coaxes quietly with a shit-eating smirk.

"I swear!"

"C'mon… never like keepin' such a sweet gal waitin'!"

After a minute's hesitation, you begrudgingly agree and take it out.

"Thank ya. Now, got a lil mission for ya, Miss Hero-in-the-Makin'."

"Really?!"

Barely able to conceal her exuberance, she reverently takes the key like it's actual gold and not simply plated. Seungcheol ruffles her hair affectionately.

"Y'see the man in all purple?"

"Mhm, yeah! The one that looks like the night sky?"

"Yeah, give 'im it. Make sure to say it's from this pretty lady."

"Choi!"

"Talk to 'im too 'cause he'll love that. He's a real hero, y'know? Truest of 'em all."

"Yes, sir!"

"Attagirl."

Lina scurries off and you turn back to the counter with a sour glare directed at Seungcheol. "What was that all about?"

"Dunno, cute?"

"I'm really sorry about that all," Wonwoo apologetically interrupts with the offer of another refill which is readily accepted. "She… she's very excitable."

"No need for apologizin', man."

"Yeah, she's adorable. Is she yours?"

The bespectacled bartender stutters, almost dropping the glass he's handing to you. "That's, uh, that's my sister!"

"Ah, makes sense! Didn't mean to assume."

He flushes and turns away. But not without mumbling something about it being okay and your comrade groans.

"Reminder — ya get too drunk, 'm not dealin' with ya ass."

"Great, I don't want you near my ass."

"'S not what I meant!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Seungcheol downs another shot and you're quick to follow his lead once Wonwoo hands over another refill per your shared request. However, this time, the stoic man surprisingly lingers and awkwardly fiddles with his wire-rimmed frames, doing his very best to not let his eyes wander your scantily clad figure as your head tilts back to swallow the burning alcohol.

Meanwhile, the pastor's grin turns wolfish.

"So, uh, who are you, really?"

"Curious, eh?" You lean comfortably onto the counter, braced by your forearms and an alluring smile on your face for the handsome saloon owner. His gaze drifts down to your scar-covered hands which also happen to be placed conveniently underneath your breasts.

You'd once said the best disguise and toughest armor was none at all. And why not flaunt your assets — literally — and put them to good use. The desert is hot anyways!

Seungcheol and Seungkwan both called bullshit. Mingyu applauded you and waved his "I respect women's rights, wrongs, and all the above no matter what!" flag. Seokmin — already used to your behavior and attire — had nothing else to say other than his normal quips of, "As long as you're comfortable".

"Well, a-a beautiful woman like yourself has to have everyone wondering."

And you laughed in the face of your haters every time it worked.

"Just a bounty hunter."

Wonwoo nods at the casual answer, recalling the holster strapped around the plush of your thigh beneath short denim shorts. "Where from?"

"Well… around. My hometown was destroyed so…"

"Oh? Same here."

"Ah, camaraderie." You jab a thumb menacingly in the direction of the purple-cloaked figure and the life of tonight's celebration, currently animatedly chattering to Lina. "That's why I'm turning him in."

"He's…?"

"Yup, Lee Seokmin. Yes," you confirm with a smirk at the way Wonwoo's eyes bug out behind his glasses, "that one — the infamous humanoid typhoon. Don't worry, he won't hurt anything or anyone here."

"He's… uh, he's not quite what I expected."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"You must be pretty badass to reign him in. Heard he's giving what's left of the July regime officers a run for their double dollars."

"For sure. But it's thanks to the other two drunkards, really. Believe it or not, they're Bernardelli insurance agents. Raven-haired one's Seungkwan and the tall one is Mingyu. They're helping to monitor that whopping bounty of mine and prevent any more disasters from happening. Heard I might get a bump in value if I bring him in alive."

"Oh, well, it looks like it's working. And he seems… willing? To come with you?"

"The irony. Always been quite blasé about facing his doom."

"He's really a Plant engineer, too?"

"Of sorts," you huff at his visible confusion but wave your empty glass. "Can I get another?"

He's more than happy to accommodate and returns with two, sliding one over to Seungcheol with a cautious look at the person who seems the closest to you. "And this is…?"

"Pastor. Pleased to meet'cha."

"Oh! Really?"

"A surprising addition to the mix, yeah. But everyone needs to, like, pray sometimes." And under your breath, low enough so only a certain man can hear, "no matter how sketchy they are."

"Do you, hm, officiate weddings?"

The one in question quirks a thick eyebrow. "Ya lookin' to get hitched, boy?"

"M-maybe."

And Seungcheol feels wholly compelled to bless him silently from the bottom of his blackened heart with full sincerity, seeing as how the bespectacled man timidly peeks your way before his gaze darts elsewhere. "Sorry lad, charge 'bout a thousand double dollars minimum."

While the solitary bartender crashes back into the sad reality of capitalism, you jab your elbow into the pastor's ribcage. "Fuckin' scammer."

"Only the best of the best! Ya know, sixty billion's still on the table — 'n it better be callin' my name."

"No one even has sixty billion double dollars!"

"We have 'im." And he points back to where hoots and hollers erupt from the center table of the saloon.

Lina's returned to the woman she was with earlier — presumably her beloved Sherry — but that doesn't mean Seokmin's alone. There's so much disdain in your side-eye, spotting the busty violet-haired sweetheart his arm wraps around. After all, he's the worst kind of ladykiller.

And by that, you mean he absolutely sucks at flirting and can't get or keep a partner to save his life. Yet you're constantly stuck witnessing women, men, and attractive people of all kinds throw themselves at the good-looking man until he opens his mouth and they're put off by his clear lack of suaveness or strange little idiosyncrasies.

"Stop with the stupid bet, it's not happening. Nobody's going to be winning a thing."

"It's called usin' the damn 'magination, darlin'!"

"Which means you need to get better hobbies. You've corrupted my friends!"

"Hah! Them fools were already too invested in this 'fore I ever came along."

"Fill me up again?"

Intent on ignoring Seungcheol, you belatedly realize how aggressive your request comes across. You're also eager for something to help soothe ache in your chest. It comes and goes like a bad toothache — manageable enough to forget about the pain until it returns tenfold.

Thankfully, Wonwoo meekly complies with the back tips of his ears tinged red and Seungcheol barely manages to hide his extreme amount of mirth for the situation behind another glass. In the dim lighting, at certain angles, and with another shot of whiskey settling into your system, you conclude that the handsome saloon owner could certainly pass as Seokmin's brother and vice versa.

But you know the truth.

Familiar with the one who's all too identical to the infamous gunslinger, yet entirely different altogether. Irritation flares in your gut, prickling harsh enough that even the burn of alcohol fails to drown it out.

"I'm turning in for the night."

"Smartin' idea."

"Don't get too smashed."

"You should get smashed."

"Bye, Choi."

Tipsiness is a great excuse to bump purposely into him as you get off the stool. It's only thanks to his genetically enhanced metabolism that the pastor's able to stay upright. He grumbles something that's likely insulting, but standing upright causes you to realize you drank way too much. Everything spins or sways, including your body as you stumble up the stairs.

Somehow, you safely make it to the second level. Above the saloon is a hallway of small bedrooms that Wonwoo generously loans out to routine drunkards or stray travelers. It takes a few minutes of fumbling around but you finally find the lock that matches the first of its paired key and tumble face-first into (thankfully clean) bedsheets.

A hazy mix of drifting in and out of consciousness follows. It's not until the door clicks and there's an ominous creak of floorboards followed by a noticeable presence creeping up at your side that fully rouses you from the feverish dreams of gunfire, explosions, and loss that still plague your mind to this day.

You roll over, intending to assume both an offensive and defensive position against the nighttime visitor, but a hand lands on your shoulder before you can. Still sluggish, there's no way you could ever hope to outmatch the humanoid typhoon, even at your best.

"Hey, you."

It takes a bit for your eyes to adjust to the darkness after hearing his voice — and then there he is. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Seokmin greets you with a fond, megawatt grin. The thumb of his cybernetic prosthesis gently traces little circles over your bare skin. There's a faint hum and glow from its advanced tech mechanics, paired with moonbeams from the window, casting off an ethereal radiance.

"So, you're staying here tonight?"

"But of course, isn't that why you sent such a cute little cherub my way?"

Ah, Lina. You unwittingly smile, remembering how joyful she was to accomplish her mission.

Then your eyes close, nose wrinkling at the copious stench of mixed perfumes and alcohol he brought in and refusing to acknowledge what he says.

"You hella reek."

"Says the one who drank over seven shots."

"… That preacher's a fuckin' tattler. And a liar. And a total scammer. Don't fall for him, Seok."

"Now, what makes you think Seungcheol told me, hm?" He leans down almost nose-to-nose, enough to make yours scrunch even more at the buzzing feeling of how near he is. Your eyes open to squint at him and he winks. "Silly boy tried to mess with god again and max out his intake. Spoiler alert, he failed. Mingyu dragged him back to his room."

"You're the only one I know who can call Choi a 'silly boy'."

"'Cause that's what he is."

"And you need to stop acting like my babysitter!"

You shift away from his gorgeous face and he leans back to give you space, sporting a smug grin. "Then who would take care of you, mayfly?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Be nice to me and maybe I won't keep count on how many glasses you down next time," he teases. "But since I'm so kind and forgiving, would you like a nice, warm, relaxing bath?"

Well, it did sound wonderful. TMI, but cleanliness was a luxury when traveling the desert. Even more so when the places you arrived at had Plant issues. Luckily, Seokmin was more than capable of fixing them but even then, circumstances varied. Especially around the one known across Gunsmoke as mankind's first localized human disaster.

"Only if you get one, too."

It slips from your mouth without a thought. But you might as well have told Seokmin you'd gotten him a box full of doughnuts with how delightedly he clasps his hands together.

"As you wish, m'lady!"

And he treats you like one, scooping you up into his arms in a princess-style carry. At least tonight you're more willing to let him do as he wishes, especially when he discards the perfume-infused outerwear. Whiskey, sleepiness, and the smooth material of his undershirt keep you pliant and cuddly well after he'd snatched you off the bed.

Seokmin's already ten times stronger than even a human like Mingyu and his prosthesis only helps take further advantage of that fact. He easily deposits you on the edge of the tub. Normal routine would require untying the tight laces on your combat boots but since you'd kicked them off prior to resting, he skips to the next step.

Deft fingers make quick work unbuttoning your shorts, the prosthetic digits of his left hand then moving to loosen the straps that keep your top on. His other hand holds them together in a pseudo-knot to keep the material in place.

Honoring a sense of modesty, you suppose — even though you've seen each other unclothed before. But you melt into the secure press of his palm paired with the support of his chest against your back as he leans over to turn on the water.

"Let me know if it's a good temperature."

"M'kay."

"You're so agreeable when drunk!"

"And you're still just as annoying."

"Okay, okay," he relents. Amicably even.

Seokmin never enjoys butting heads like Seungcheol constantly does. Although another "mayfly," gets tacked on to the end of his playful yield in a mischievous tone because if there is one thing, it's that he can never tease you enough.

Brown eyes quietly trace the ink and scars that mark your skin, some disappearing or completely hidden beneath the parts that are covered. Finally, they land on the silver chain around your neck, only a breadth away from the tip of his fingers that suddenly twitch at how soft you feel beneath the calloused roughness of his own skin.

You let out a little sigh and it shakes him from his reverie, noticing the tub's filled up past your calves. Guiding one of your hands to where the locket lies beneath your clothes covering your chest, he stands. "Call me if you need anything or just want help getting out, m'lady."

"'Kay."

You're already stripping bare but Seokmin breezes out the door before you can blink. You sigh again and slip into the hot water, enjoying a soak to ease the heaviness you feel.

It's hard to understand this emotional turmoil. Knowing that you don't enjoy feeling this way, you make a false promise to not drink ever again, staying submerged in the water until your fingers wrinkle.

Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you didn't. There's a bathrobe laid on the sink when you're ready to get out that you don't remember from before but who knows. Who cares? It's cozy and you haven't felt this clean in a while.

"All yours," you lazily declare, stepping into the bedroom.

Seokmin perks up from where he casually sits cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with Geranium. A dopey smile lights up his face, gaze moving from the hefty nickel revolver and zoning in on you.

"All mine?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he repeats quieter, more to himself, "all mine…" But when you unconsciously shiver, his eyes flash and brows furrow. "C'mere, I warmed the bed up for you."

"Aren't you going to bathe?"

"Yep, so don't miss me too much, my dear mayfly!"

He accompanies it with a saucy wink and saunters into the bathroom, humming. You find yourself in a bit of a daze, head and cheeks holding onto the heat of the steam from your bath (and more). You change into a light tank and cotton shorts before sitting back down. As promised, where Seokmin rested was indeed warm and smells of faint gun smoke that always brings back memories.

"Total slaughter…!"

Splash!

"… Total slaughter…"

Splash!

"I won't leave… a single man alive."

Splash! Splash!

"La de da de dai~," echoes from the bathroom. "Genocide…"

Splash.

"La de da de duh," splash, splash, splash, "an ocean… of blood."

"Let's begin… the killing time."

Seokmin possessed a lovely melodic voice no matter how nonsensical or gruesome the words he sang. Your eyes close with relaxation as he continues into a different tune. Though the lyrics are definitely more hopeful this time, there's a heavy sense of underlying desolation despite the rapid, upbeat tone.

"So…" splash, "on the first evening," splash, "a pebble from somewhere out of nowhere drops upon the dreaming world…"

You think back to how he silently cried when he thought no one was looking after a young stowaway on the sandsteamer broke into the same nostalgic song. Your heart aches in empathy for the woman whose heroic sacrifice saved humankind but left behind irreparable damage to twins she adored.

Rem Saverem.

She was to Seokmin as what Saint Meryl was to you. But your fondness for the nun who dared to favor one random orphan above the other equally ordinary ones with an unprecedented amount of kindness paled in comparison to the devotion Seokmin exhibited for Rem. Her kindness, hope, and love for and of life didn't simply become Seokmin's philosophies — they were a true part of every fiber, woven into his very being.

He was peculiar. Hardheaded — or in Seungkwan's affectionate term: a hardass — when it came to nonviolence. A true pacifist. Even when enemies held him at gunpoint, allies turned their backs on him, and his choice to always save was at the very cost of his well being… Seokmin would choose to tear himself apart limb by limb before ever causing damage or letting harm come to another.

And even if he always chose the world and those living in it first before anything else, that's what you loved the most about him.

"What's got you making that face?"

You're quick to school whatever expression it might be. Your tongue feels fuzzy. You purse your lips as he lumbers closer, freshly dressed in a comfy white long-sleeved shirt and black sweats.

"What face?"

"You know, the one where something's weighing on your mind."

The bed frame dips and squeaks when he flops down to snuggle against you. Still-damp, reddish-brown bangs lay across your shoulder and dampen your skin. The chilled press of the gold hoop in his left earlobe raises bumps wherever it touches as he endearingly nuzzles you.

"There is."

"Tell me."

"You need to dry your hair properly."

"Do it for me."

"… This is on purpose, isn't it?"

Nevertheless, you take the unused towel around his neck and vigorously rub at his head. No complaints or protests defending his honor come from Seokmin. Just the usual little trills of contentment escape as he leans into your touch. Once you're satisfied the job's done well, he plucks the towel from your hands and you fix him with a stern look.

"Well, Seok? You gonna answer me?"

He curls in on his lanky frame, enough so to find room to plop his head pitifully onto your thighs and nuzzle the bare skin with his nose. "Not if you won't answer me first."

"You."

"Hm?"

"Was… thinking about you."

"Oh, really? Dreaming about how cool, dashing, handsome, and awesome I am?"

"… Yeah. I like you."

He chuckles, closing his eyes. More so at the feeling of your fingers idly playing with his strands of hair than seriously taking what you say. "I like you, too!"

"No, I mean," you jostle him harshly as you shift anxiously, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "Something's wrong with me."

"… Mhm yeah, you've been drinking."

"Goddamnit, Seok… that was like hours ago! But… what if… what if I'm in love with you?"

Your fingers retract like you've been caught red-handed stealing Mingyu's pudding and a millisecond later, Seokmin's head flies off your lap as he sits up to stare incredulously at you and can only gasp out one word, "What?"

It comes out more like a statement than a question. You've seen all kinds of emotions appear in those clear brown eyes of his. Emptiness. Excitement. Happiness. Fear. Loneliness. Mysteriousness. Pain. But now, you can hardly make sense of what turmoil is swimming in those murky depths.

"There's no way," he shakes his head — laughter high and brittle. "Fake", is what Seungcheol occasionally points out whenever he spies the gunslinger's smile. You've never believed him until now. "You're drunk."

Seokmin's been hurt before and you know that. It's why you wish for him to be nothing but happy, that there's some truth to the joy he constantly tries to radiate. Hoping some parts are really healing, that he's giving time to let the bloody wounds coagulate — if even just a little.

"It's me. I mean, I'm the one that's drunk," he reiterates, shaking his head.

"Why are you acting like that?"

"… Like what?"

Perhaps you were too hopeful.

"Like I'm making some sort of mistake. Like I'm wrong about this. About us."

And still under the influence of the too-damn-strong alcohol.

"It's… none of that, it's just…"

"You think I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, do you?" he fires back rather harshly, "'cause you're still wearing that thing and —"

You wince as his voice breaks off, palm instinctively flying to where the locket rests. "What the hell does that have to do with anything right now? I thought we were over this! Years ago!"

"Maybe you were since you continue to stubbornly follow me everywhere!"

"I'm not the only one!"

"Yeah, 'cause no one ever listens to me!"

"I always listen to you, Seok. Even if the words that come out of your mouth don't match how you actually feel —"

"You don't know how I feel!"

Silence.

Seokmin's chest heaves, wide eyes taking in how you immediately freeze. That look, oh, that look on your face could kill him and his body moves on auto-pilot to stand, directing his gaze to stare daggers into the floorboards. Begging them to rip off like a bandaid and shield him from your wrath.

The wood beneath his feet groans, shaking ever the slightest.

"You're right. How dare I?"

"Wait, mayfly… I —" he switches gears with a plea of your given name.

"And obviously, you have no fuckin' idea how I feel." Now it's your turn to let out a disingenuous chuckle, fake humor cracking under the pressure of sadness it's struggling to mask. "You think all I'm after is revenge more than the actual thought even crosses my mind. You put on this show that nothing bothers you, make assumptions that no one can keep up with you, that you can do it all on your own."

"No, that's not… that's not what I meant! You know how dangerous —"

You stumble ungracefully off the bed, flinching away when Seokmin's words break off as he automatically reaches out. For you. To support and for support.

Yet, it hurts all the more.

"But what do I even know? How can I, when you keep everyone at arm's length? It's like… it's like I don't even know who you are! Like you're someone else, someone I'll never get to understand…"

To others, it might not make sense, possibly the dumbest thing you could say — especially with the state you're in. But you know Seokmin, a fact he's subconsciously taken comfort in.

But you also know Seokmin. Which means you know the exact place to hit him where it hurts the most.

And suddenly, those words you say propel him back into a moment from the past, body free-falling in the sky.

Yelling. Crying. Screaming. Pleading.

Begging that exact phrase and being demanded of the same accusation. All from the one who's falling with him. Whose face mirrors his own, but couldn't be more different in that crucial and devastating moment.

His brother. His twin. His other half who was once his everything — now a total stranger from the person he thought he knew.

A fifty-year-old reunion that should've been a reconciliation, turned into a doomsday.

And for you, the once simple toothache pain is now overwhelming your full body and you refuse to let him see how it's dampened your cheeks. Especially when you hear the pained whisper of the name that escapes his mouth when you're the one that triggered those awful memories. Staggering to the door, you yank it open and he instinctually takes a step forward.

Don't leave me.

You hear the unspoken plea as clearly as if spoken aloud.

"Don't follow me," is what you hiss out instead, and just like when you first met, Seokmin obeys.

When Seungkwan makes room arrangements — if there is enough money to spare when needed and the options are available — he books everyone their own private space. More often than not though, he and Mingyu share a room and so do you and Seokmin.

Out of everyone in the group, you're the only one who is used to putting up with Seokmin's idiosyncrasies and the constant white noise of the cybernetic prosthetics's technology. You've rarely paid mind to having your own space unless Seokmin gets in one of those rare 150-year-old moods and wants some time by himself. Rare in nature, because he doesn't enjoy being left alone with his thoughts that threaten to consume him.

But he'll have to make due tonight. For the first time, you're extremely grateful for Seungkwan's pro-activeness.

You lock the door, crawl into a fresh cold bed, and wet a new pillow — one that lacks the comforting scent of gun smoke — with unshed tears.

For all his short-tempered and sassy mannerisms, Seungkwan is quite the worrywart. When the suns have peeked past the horizon and you're not already downstairs bullying Seungcheol, he's immediately knocking at your door and inquiring about your well-being. You assure him you're just hungover and he reluctantly leaves you be, likely picking up on how terrible you really do sound.

By high noon, Mingyu raps on the door next. He even sweetly offers to share his prized pudding in the hopes that you'll peek your head out. Though you appreciate it, you send him away, too — after reassuring the sensitive man you'll feel better after some rest.

Seungcheol doesn't miss the chance to be annoying times ten. He doesn't indulge in the effort of knocking, opting to make the floorboards squeal by pacing back and forth in front of the door. All the while, muttering this and that about "yer boy's like a pathetic dog and blah, blah, blah" until getting very kindly told to "fuck off!" and dragged back downstairs by a certain raven-haired insurance agent.

Even Seokmin checks in. Four times.

Once and then twice after you'd left and he'd figured out which room was yours. Then two more visits throughout the following day. He doesn't exactly make his presence known — but you know he knows you know he's out there.

If not by the distinct gait you've picked up on listening for after all this time, then by the hesitant thuds of combat boots lingering outside your door. Lost technology whirring with the action it takes to make a fist with his left hand, raising it up to the door and then back down again in self-inflicted defeat.

You refuse to see anyone, choosing to pity yourself first. Wallowing in your feelings and then sleeping as much of the heartache — and more so the hangover — away.

When the moons are visible in accordance to their nightly orbit, you get up to fuss with the mini VERnon in the room's corner. Nothing but static greets you. At the very least, the white noise is better than complete silence. By the time it's morning, you slowly awaken to the virtually enhanced radio trying to catch onto a faint signal. Enough to report the latest news in snippets with its mechanical voice.

"Beast… reported… Tonim town… !"

Your eyes fly open. Now is not the time to be wasting away. Donning a clean set of attire similar to what you wore into town — and with Sirocco strapped comfortingly to your thigh — you descend downstairs.

"Good morning!" Mingyu cheerfully greets with a delighted shout of your name and eagerly waves you over to sit next to him, waving around a promised cup of pudding. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, thanks. Sorry about that, whiskey here sure is strong."

"'S one helluva killer," Seungcheol sulks across from you, still sporting a massive headache and looking worse than that one time Seungkwan hit him with the car.

"You're just weak."

"Wha'zat say 'bout you?"

"Since I can equally acknowledge both my strengths and weaknesses, that makes me infinitely stronger than you'll ever be."

Seungkwan wordlessly hands you a bowl and you graciously accept it. Next to the pastor sits Seokmin, unnaturally quiet. You don't even spare him a glance even though brown eyes burn into the side of your face until you glare his way.

The stack of doughnuts on the plate in front of him remain untouched — minus the smudged icing on one that was likely from Seungcheol trying to swipe it. Evidently, Seokmin was in low spirits if he didn't want to consume his favorite desserts. But, he is still prideful enough to prevent anyone else from snatching the prized delicacy.

How typical.

An awkwardness ensues, charged with an underlying current of tension. A vein forms in Seungkwan's forehead from his blood pressure rising.

Its pulse matches the twitch in the corner of his fake smile as he attempts to make conversation, to which Mingyu — oblivious and happy-go-lucky as ever, bless his heart — replies enthusiastically. Seungcheol stares listlessly into space, twirling a lollipop around and around with his tongue. Next to him is a soul acting like a thunderstorm's personally pouring over him. Seokmin starts pitifully poking at his grand doughnut pile while you ferociously tear into a piece of bread like it's the last supper before swallowing.

"Soonyoung's coming."

Your unexpected, but welcomed, interruption ironically pauses Seungkwan's second diatribe about Hansol's calamitous ingenuity. If possible, the apprehension in the room intensifies tenfold.

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. "How'd you hear?"

"Tuned the VERnon last night."

"'Course you did."

"Something about the Beast and Tonim came through. Not for sure but…"

"It never hurts to be too prepared!"

"True, 'Gyu. 'N if Soonyoungie's gonna be there, ya know what that likely means…"

You nod in understanding at Seungcheol's implication. "The Crimsonnail."

Seokmin's jaw clenches at the name but it's the disgruntled pastor who continues speaking after a hearty and loud gulp of water. "'Course the Eye of Joshua's gonna send their best two. Soonyoungie's Hoon's eyes 'n ears for these kinda things."

"Or… it could be Jeonghan."

Your noncommittal remark receives Seungcheol's scathing glower. "Bet."

"It wouldn't be the first time," you shrug.

"There haven't been any notable disturbances and the ground's been stable. So hopefully their only goal is to simply antagonize us further."

Antagonize.

A funny word for such a twisted coin game between a hunter and the hunted. You can't and don't blame the younger Bernardelli agent — only you were privy to most of the true horrors Seokmin dealt with behind the scenes, Seungcheol a close second. And because of that, you were usually the one at his side before an encounter with Jihoon and the ever lingering threat and terror of said man's monstrous power.

But today, you get up from the table without so much as a glance in his direction. Only a parting command of "Let's regroup near the entrance at high noon," while Seungkwan and Mingyu exchange looks of minor distress.

The black-haired man in his hangover blues obnoxiously blows a raspberry as you leave.

Later, there are two solid knocks on the door as you get ready. You know who it is before the door swings open after your agreeable hum to enter. Many may be intimidated at the sight of the silver weapon in your gloved hands. Seungkwan and Mingyu make up half of the quartet who aren't.

They take a seat on the bed as you purse your lips at the reflection in the dusty mirror. Then you fuss with the strap for your gun. Satisfyingly re-securing it around your thigh before throwing a carmine trench coat over tight kevlar that covers almost every inch of skin possible.

"Surprised you didn't dye everything else black during a fit of rage."

Your lips curl upwards. "How on Gunsmoke would I manage that?"

"With the way you're acting, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…' or so the saying goes."

"Really, 'Kwan?"

"I'm an avid supporter of women's rights and especially their wrongs."

"Sure you are."

"You would absolutely look dashing!"

"Thanks, Mingyu. Should've given my color scheme a little more consideration."

"But then you wouldn't have achieved such an infamous moniker. I mean, okay. Maybe the black plague killed tons of Earthlings eons ago but it doesn't have the same ring as 'Sirocco, the bloody rain that follows after the humanoid typhoon'…"

Seungkwan allegedly graduated at the top of his class, leave it to him to spew out all kinds of random facts that you know nothing about. You huff and adjust the brim of the large hat atop your head.

"All that does is make me cringe."

"Uh-huh, so what's making him act like that?"

"Who's acting like what?"

"Fine, keep playing dumb. Did you reject Seokmin or something?"

Mingyu gasps. Dramatically. Hands on cheeks and mouth open in a wide 'o' shape, puppy-dog eyes glistening with despair.

"There's no way!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, nothing happened so don't think you're gonna wheedle out of me whether you're going to win that stupid bet you two have going with Choi."

"Eh, don't worry. I've been out of the running for a while now, unfortunately."

"The hell did you even throw for?"

He shoots you a deadpan look. "Guess who's aged eighty years watching the two of you dance around each other like dumbasses? Could've sworn you'd be married with a toma farm or a dozen little children by now."

"It's your own damn fault for falling victim to that pastor's salacious schemes. And it's not even remotely like that, so…"

"Someone just doesn't wanna give in."

You stomp your foot, frustration boiling over. "Ugh, I'm never drinking again!"

"Wait… No fucking way…!"

"Literally shut up, Boo."

"I mean Choi did bet you'd confess and you know… get intimate afterwards… if you were drunk so…"

"Oh, so that's why he was so damn pushy last night."

"Dirty cheater."

"You expect anything less from someone like him?"

A sigh. "No."

It's a well-known fact that Seungcheol would rather stoke the flames of hell than ever needlessly dabble with holy water as one might be expected to with his chosen career.

"But judging by both of your moods, evidently nothing happened." The raven-haired man really has the gall to look disappointed that no one won yet pleased Seungcheol didn't, and the gall to point out the obvious. "Anyways, what did you bet on, Mingyu?"

"Don't recall!"

"Figures." Seungkwan's face falls flat against his palm with a groan before dragging it wearily down his face. "Whatever, it's not like it's that serious. Seriously," he adds on, feeling the burn of your perpetual glower. "Don't let it weigh on your mind. We need you fully focused."

"And when have I ever been less than what's expected of me?" You hold up a hand. "Wait! Don't answer. But really, worry more about that idiot."

"Aw, see? You still care!"

"… About that sixty billion bounty, Mingyu? Yeah."

"Sure you do."

"And truthfully, I was talking about Choi, 'Kwan."

"Well, both of them always get into those zany headspaces!"

You shrug at the tall man's truthfulness. "They're both holding a lot of trauma and baggage."

"And you aren't?" Seungkwan snorts with sarcasm dripping from the dig.

"At least mine's manageable. And… hasn't threatened your lives yet."

"As far as we know."

"In fact, I think I've saved your 'so-very-untraumatized' lives more often than not. Stay with me and you'll both be okay."

They good-naturedly give you individual looks of disdain. Perfectly in sync when you accompany that last statement with a devilish smirk and a twirl that flares out your tail coat with a flourish. By no means are they incapable. Clumsy Mingyu can adeptly wield his massive concussion gun when it counts, of course, and Seungkwan stealthily hides several derringer 'throwaway' pistols under his white cloak that he can fire with deadly precision.

Nonetheless, they loyally flank to your side when Tonim's bell tower signifies the hour of high noon has struck. Seungcheol meets the three of you outside the door of the saloon, smoking a cigarette and one arm lazily draped over the Punisher — a terrifying machine gun mockingly designed in the burdening shape of a merciful cross.

You spot Seokmin up ahead. He's standing on the low border wall near the town's entrance, perched next to a pillar for back support with the heel of his boot propped up behind him. Decked out in the usual galaxy ensemble, purple fabric cut off at shoulder-length of the top left sleeve to allow free range of movement for his prosthesis. His hair's slightly gelled up for a more intimidating and dramatic flair and it almost makes you giggle.

But there's that stern gaze focused on the horizon, likely able to see far out into the distance through those amber lenses the human eye can't quite decipher. Despite such a hardened resolve, his head tilts slightly up toward the blue sky with a faint smile on his lips — an honoring appreciation for the beauty and wonder of life despite its inevitable horrors.

Seungcheol clicks his tongue to get your attention while Seungkwan and Mingyu keep walking ahead. "Spiky Hair thinks he's really gonna do it?"

"Won't stop until he's tried every last resort."

"Even if it kills 'im?"

"Even if it kills him."

"This damned situation 'cause of ya know who."

"Dokyeom. DK."

"Nah, nah. There's the asinine version, eh?"

"Absolute pain in my ass?"

He slaps his knee. "Ah, aye… good one! But nah, 's really stupid one, Deathly, uh, er…?"

"… Deadly Knives?"

"Pfft, yeah, 's that one. So, we gotta try 'n stop one genocidal brother from sweepin' out the whole human race 'n tryna convince greedy humans not to keep exploitin' 'em with the other. Back 'n forth again 'n again. I swear…'s only ever gonna be impossible."

"What makes you think it can't happen?"

He looks at you like you're stupid. Maybe you are. But what does that make him? "Both sides — humans versus DK — think they're right 'n too proud to think otherwise."

"So you don't think they'll settle for a compromise. Or at least try to see the other's viewpoint?"

"Hell naw. Ain't no compromisin' when both think they're justified in what they're doin'."

"Well, regardless — you joined a good cause, Choi. World could use a little more peace and love, don't you think?"

He grunts. "Lookit who's corrupted yer ideologies. Don'tcha know what destroyed Earth?"

"And do you know what saved humans? Kindness. Hope. Empathy. Compassion. Change. Making and being the difference. The good kind."

A long time ago, maybe in a different twist of fate, you might've staunchly agreed with Seungcheol. But despite it all, you've been somewhat changed — or like the pastor said, call it a corruption of sorts — by Seokmin's unwavering sense of positivity and kindness no matter how bleak the future.

You admired him. Truly.

"Un-fuckin'-'lievable."

Seungcheol shakes his head as if he's not gearing up, ready and raring to go as he stomps forward to join a fellow 'brother-in-arms'. The thought inwardly makes you smile with affection until you remember you're actually, in fact, mad at Seokmin.

A dust cloud stirs up on the horizon, steadily growing closer to where you stand.

"You're so full of goddamn self-flagellation."

The individual where all your ire is centered on jolts, doing a double-take at your sudden but familiar presence by his side approaching. Or maybe it was the mere fact you were talking to him again. A warm expression overtakes his facial features at the sense of calm that automatically relaxes the tension in his muscles as he looks down at you.

"Well then, hello to you too. Feeling better, mayfly?"

"… Remind me to never drink again."

"I told you —"

"Yeah, yeah." You wave away his nagging and step up on the wall to stand next to him. "Don't worry, I won't be making a mistake like that again."

"… Mistake?"

There's an edge to his tone. Searching. Sometimes you hate how perceptive Seokmin can be. Though he actively acts oblivious and carefree, it's usually a ploy to lower other's guard.

You wonder how long he's known.

So, you sigh. "I'm talking about drinking, of course. And… I wish I could say I forgot even if… I haven't. But it's fine, I know where I stand."

The latter part of your sentence trails off. It's true though. You do know — thankful you can even be next to Seokmin. You might not be with him but at the very least, your place will always be somewhere by his side. Affectionate flings may be sought elsewhere. But they're always temporary. In your heart of hearts, you know you're irreplaceable to him.

And that's going to have to be good enough for you.

The man in question scratches the back of his head. "It's not… it's not like that. I know I fucked up."

"Stop." You grip at his prosthetic, knowing despite how sensitive the sensors are, they won't be able to pick up how you slightly tremble. "It's okay. Really."

Who is it you're trying to reassure?

"Mayfly," Seokmin murmurs. "Look at me."

With the slightest hesitation, your gaze finally rises from its focal point centered on his boots and the stones beneath to meet dark brown eyes. The ache in the gunslinger's chest eases just a little. It's been far too long — a day, in actuality — since he's got to lose himself among the vibrant hues of your irises and he squeezes your free hand in gratitude.

"It's not okay, I want to talk to you. Sober. But…"

"I get it. Now's not the time for a heart-to-heart, especially not in front of your brother's henchmen."

You laugh, for real this time. The sight is breathtaking; it makes Seokmin's eyes crinkle, a fond smile to accompany his affection as he leans in closer to you to whisper a sweet, "Thank you."

Three sets of eyes try to make it very not obvious that they're very obviously totally not watching the overdue interaction with bated breath.

"Oh golly good, they've made up!"

"'Course they would."

"It's about time, I couldn't take the tension anymore."

"Don'tcha think it'll get worse once they start canoodlin'?"

"Good lord," Seungkwan groans, "perish the thought."

"What's wrong with a little love? Yay for love!"

"Well, I don't think they've made it that far yet. But we're getting there. Baby steps."

It would be a good cause for celebration, a resumption of last night's festivities. Unfortunately, the merry moment is cut short with a screech of brakes, signaling the arrival of Jihoon, DK's most elite performer in his unmerry band of henchmen.

Next to the feared Crimsonnail's suitcase sits Soonyoung the Beast. Silver strands peek out behind the unsettling, bug-like circular mask hiding his face. He casually waves, acting like the unnerving discovery behind the innocent, abandoned child — who went by Hoshi — was simply a facade initially put on around your group and not such a grand revelation.

Having sorted that out in the stomach of a giant flying worm serving as a hive mind for Gunsmoke's legion of its original inhabitants and swearing not to let your guard down again, all five of you remain on high alert.

Jihoon's steel-colored eyes flicker to Seungcheol. "Hello there, Undertaker. Or… should I say Judas?"

"Howdy dandy to ya too, ya son of a bitch," the pastor snarls, spitting his cigarette in their direction. Cursing under his breath when the distance and uselessness of the fizzling stub doesn't blow up the engine like he wishes it would.

"Now, now. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

"Kinda wanna piss ya off as much as ya piss me off, yeah."

"Surely you know what —"

"He means nothing by it." You'd quickly abandoned your post next to Seokmin to place a hand on Seungcheol's taut shoulder. Boldly facing the blonde man's haughty expression with one that's hopefully placating enough on behalf of your comrade. "He's just grumpy because he's still hungover."

"Well, well… if it isn't the humanoid typhoon's little blood shower."

Ugh, you inwardly grimace, why the fuck does everyone have such unflattering nicknames for me?

"Still following him around, I see."

"'S a lot comin' from —"

" — Hasn't gotten rid of me yet!"

"… Seems it," Jihoon sniffs and cocks his head. "Similar to the dilemma I have with this persistent bug."

Soonyoung chortles, neck contorting at an unnatural angle to peer at the driver. "You love me."

"You're delusional."

"Why are you here?"

Seokmin's question comes sharp and pointed like a dagger, a far cry from his usual demeanor. His tone remains detached. Aloof. Vaguely accusatory. Unlike your harried action to cover for Seungcheol, you don't dare divert attention away from the gunslinger who stalks forward after elegantly hopping down from his perch. Despite an outwardly calm demeanor, there's an underlying urgency in his gait that's threatening to snap.

"For amusement. A show, if you will."

"One that's not even orchestrated by Joshua's freakish cult powers!"

Out of all the males surrounding you, you're not sure exactly who growls at the Beast's mere mention of the devil-like figurehead — in fact, it could've been all of them — but there's one noise that rings out above the din of it all.

Click!

You don't need super-hearing to pick up that telltale sound. Not when every person over the age of eighteen in Tonim has a cocked gun trained on each member of your ragtag gang.

"Uh, so… how many times is this?"

"One too fuckin' many," you answer Seungkwan with a petulant hiss and reluctantly mimic him by putting your hands up in the air.

Jihoon cackles. "And when will you fools ever learn?"

"'S my question, actually," the pastor nonchalantly calls over his shoulder, directed at the town's ringleader. "Didn't know ya had it in ya, boy."

You didn't think Wonwoo had it in him either, to be honest. But that's not something you were going to mention aloud with the shaky hold the bespectacled man has on the firearm waveringly aimed at his target — the one whose head is worth a 60 billion double dollars bounty, dead or alive.

"Felnarl. Jeneora Rock. Descartes. Dankin."

There's a faint twitch in one of Seokmin's eyebrows. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, sarcastically muttering under his breath an addition of location names, "Voldoor, Inepril, December, Lewiston…" and Mingyu joins in on the fun with a cheerful, "New Miami!"

Seungkwan watches warily and your jaw clenches. You can feel your teeth grind together in annoyance as Wonwoo's smarmy sneer grows smugger.

"And now, Tonim Town. What?" he jeers, seizing the chance to use the man's silence as a way to ridicule him. "Don't recognize what you've laid waste to? Must I bring up the big ones to jog your memory a little, like the city of July and Augusta or the hole in the fifth moon?"

"Why you —"

Enragement propels you a step forward, but the barrel swinging your way halts your next move mid-step. The sullen look on Wonwoo's face surprisingly holds no malice. He looks saddened, if anything, but you can't bring yourself to feel too much sympathy with the rifle he's now pointed toward you.

"You forgot one."

"Pardon?"

Seokmin's voice is hardly more than a whisper yet it rings out loud and clear amid the tense silence and stillness. "I said, you forgot one. There's not a name of any place or person I'd ever forget. I'm well aware of the ones you're talking about… and more. However, there's somewhere I won't ever forget that no one will ever know existed."

"… Huh?"

"Little Ivywood."

Wonwoo seems so taken aback and the pause unwittingly allows your eyes to drift over to meet Seokmin's brown ones. There are so many emotions conveyed in the sidelong glance — a mixture of regret-filled feelings yet ever so soft — and it lasts a second too long to snap the befuddled aggressor out of his reverie.

"Oh… I see." He pushes up his glasses, the lenses glinting in the pale sunlight like a typical anime villain. The long gun lowers to the ground the same time as he throws back his head to let out a bitter laugh. "So that's how it is! All you do is take and take and take, Lee. Destroy, destroy, destroy; again and again and again!"

"Aye, ole chap's gone off his rocker."

"You've made an ally out of a would-be, should-be enemy and think other victims with their pain and grief don't exist?!"

"Wow," Seungkwan wrinkles his nose in disgust, "yeah… he's gone completely insane."

Mingyu hums in agreement. "A little unhinged! Off the rocks! Unstable even! When can I knock him out?"

You'd love to give the gentle giant the go-ahead. Really. But even so…

"Damn you —"

"Stop it."

The townspeople's uncertainty and hesitance tells you all you need to know, especially when Wonwoo's hysteria leaves them even more perplexed. After years of handling a gun like a second arm, you can spot inexperience and fear of handling a dangerous weapon the second someone is near one. You lower your arms and step forward once more, confidence growing when he makes no move to threaten you further.

"You don't want this."

The corner of his mouth quirks upward, a rueful smile. "You know, I thought we really did share some camaraderie."

"We do."

"Yet you gallivant around with a monster like that?"

"He's not a monster."

"I should've known better, really, when the VERnons said you're the sirocco that follows after the humanoid typhoon. Heroes, my ass! I don't get it, how could you do that to others after what happened to you?"

To us?

It remains unspoken yet you can hear the intent of the accusingly barbed question. Two survivors of a wrecked hometown. Shared camaraderie hadn't been a lie. Even now as you meet the flickering fire in Wonwoo's eyes with a blazing flame in your own, all you can see is a reflection of your past and what you could've turned into in a possible future.

A cold gleam returns to his gaze as he takes your silence as defiance. Or maybe even shamelessness. "How could you turn a blind eye to such a bloody warpath of destruction when you know too well of the tragedy that's left behind?!"

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

"… Excuse me?"

"That's what all of you are doing right now," you declare loudly and some of Tonim's residents whose conscience stings have the decency to avert their eyes. Awareness of their actions seem to weigh down on them, guns lowering ever the slightest and the awkwardness encourages Seungkwan to speak up.

"We would've left peacefully tomorrow."

"But yer actions're gonna be the very cause of the destruction yer tryin' so damn hard to prevent."

"Because you took a bribe!"

There's a stilted, horrified, and collective gasp, so you try to remedy Mingyu's exclamation.

"It's because you let your malice sway you. Tell me, Jeon. What all did you lose?"

"My whole town. Then my parents. Almost my life and nearly Lina's too. My lover…"

"And your sense of self. Plus, the new life you've created here — and those things? Almost lost because of your own accord. Why would you destroy the few good things you're granted?"

Wonwoo's eyebrows scrunch as his face tenses. Your heart goes out to him despite everything, hoping to get your point across as you continue speaking.

"That doesn't negate the losses. The grief. The pain. It never goes away but… you can choose to clean out the wound, put some salve on it, and bandage it or let it fester and infect your body 'til it rots even your soul."

You can hear the shift in the sand as Seokmin approaches to stand next to you. He regards Wonwoo with a kind smile and the understanding, crescent-shaped squint of his eyes is like a punch to the other man's gut.

"…. I —"

" — It's your choice, Jeon. What did they offer you? Money? There are so many bets on July's militia lying about the payout. I mean, c'mon, there's no way a ruined city would have the funds."

"Yer Plant's no longer in red status, so ya won't need to barter no more."

"I'll throw in a better deal — let us go and I'll have Choi marry you and Sherry, free of charge."

His cheeks flush and you inwardly gloat, instincts right on the money. Seungcheol's jaw drops, absolutely flabbergasted, and the townsfolk exchange a few knowing snickers.

"If it's protection you need, we can figure that out too," Seokmin recovers and offers in a low voice. "And if Do — er, Knives — or his gang approached you with a deal, just know that they never hold up their end of the bargain."

"You're lucky you threatened us first. DK's side is a little too slash-happy and trigger-loving to resort to verbal methods. They're the ones you'd want to go after anyways, you see, this man and Knives are twins if you don't look close enough, they're eerily similar at the strangest moments. So the real story is that it's all just spiraled out of control."

"You mean…"

"I won't deny responsibility." Seokmin admits sternly. "It's true that I've wreaked devastation to many towns. Failed to save the people I swore to protect."

"But DK keeps forcing his hand to get Seok to join his genocidal cause. And every time he refuses to do so, his brother throws a tantrum and well, knives go flying everywhere. Literally."

"He's a little…" The gunslinger searches for the right word — and finding that there is none — cringes. "Dramatic."

You stare at him, aghast. "He cut your arm off!"

Wonwoo pales, swallows, and then grimaces, daring to ask, "So… I've had it wrong the whole time?"

"I guess not entirely." You shrug, also guilty as charged years ago. "And obviously not the first."

"And certainly not the last," Seungkwan pipes up.

The bespectacled man looks down at the ground. "I don't… I don't know… Do I even deserve this kind of treatment? This… mercy?"

"No."

With such a blunt answer, Seokmin's quick to protest with an admonishment of your name while Seungkwan and Mingyu suppress smiles at your straightforwardness. Seungcheol freely chuckles, lighting a cigarette.

And Wonwoo's face falls as remorse hits all over again.

"But," you smirk, "what have I told you?"

"Oh, ah… why destroy the few good things life grants me?"

"Good. You were listening. We might get along just fine, after all." You send him a teasing wink. "Camaraderie and all that be damned."

A sheepish look overtakes the man's previously hardened features. And suddenly he's laughing with his head thrown back like earlier, but this time it's with an unrestrained amount of joy. Relief. Hope.

"The ticket to the future is always blank, Wonwoo." Seokmin extends a hand and the other man takes it, the small grin on his face turning into a full-blown smile.

"Guns down, Tonim town. The rest of you, come on out! Let's celebrate!" He calls out to everyone, gesturing for your group to follow. "Drinks are on me to make up for this whole mess. I'm sorry for getting you all involved."

You turn around toward Seokmin, elation written all over your face that he readily mirrors. Just as you're about to grab his hand as he reaches out at the same time, there's a slow, loud handclap that sets off mental warning sirens blaring all over again.

"Conflict resolution. How very touching."

The velvety voice is deceivingly sweet. But beneath the dulcet tones lies a raw and wicked strength. It rings out clearly, even more so when the jubilant mood abruptly dies down as a new figure approaches.

"Aw, c'mon Joshie! Just when it was gettin' good!" Soonyoung whines and you belatedly realize you forgot all about the real enemies at the entrance gate, thinking they had grown bored and left.

"What about that was 'getting good'?"

The Beast huffs at Jihoon's surly attitude, more than likely pouting beneath his mask. "Was really lookin' forward to those free drinks…"

"We don't need drinks and we don't need you, Josh."

If there's one commonality between the adversary and your group, it's the shared disdain for the elegant-looking man dressed in all black fabrics with shiny leather buckles, and slicked-back locks to match.

"Hm. But I think you do."

Chilling ochre-colored eyes couldn't be bothered to look at you, drifting past you and Seokmin like you were nothing more than the grains of sand littering every surface on Gunsmoke. And like a marionette, your head automatically swivels to follow his line of sight, blood draining from your face when you realize what he's looking at.

Lina.

She breaks away from holding onto Sheryl's hand after they emerge from the saloon, bounding toward her brother with excitement all over her face. The arm that isn't supporting his firearm extends gallantly outward, ready to welcome her with a hug as he strolls to meet her halfway.

They're smiling at one another with so much adoration after the intensity from earlier. If you weren't fucking terrified, you'd wish Dokyeom was also there to see how pure a sibling relationship and affection should be.

Instead, your stomach lurches, and Seokmin hisses beside you. With your back turned, you can't see Joshua but you're sure he's smirking when Wonwoo's frame stiffens, body jerking as it moves beyond his control.

Hastily, he's cocking the rifle with expert ease and assuming the perfect position to fire it, something he previously displayed no knowledge on before. Wide eyes have no choice but to peer down the scope and he chokes at how it's unforgivingly aimed directly at his little sister.

She skids to a halt, ten paces away. Hesitant. Wary. Puzzled.

"… Wonu?"

It all plays out in slow motion as you reach for Sirocco, simultaneously screaming out to your friends to alert them and provide cover. Frantic panic swirls in the air like a sandstorm at the turn of events, but even more fear generates when the townspeople can do nothing but helplessly succumb to their limbs moving on their own too.

Despite every single effort and all of his muscles straining not to do it, Wonwoo's pointer finger on the trigger pulls back. It doesn't matter how much he struggles to fight for control, his body refuses to listen. Tears flow from his eyes even though he can't speak, can't yell, can't beg for forgiveness — the vehement sense of horror is the only thing able to overpower Joshua's terrifying control, leaking out a salty excess.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Three gunshots ring out at the same time. You fire right before Wonwoo does and Seokmin follows two seconds later. Not because his reaction time is slower. But because he could see and calculate where the bullet's headed after you changed its trajectory by shooting at Wonwoo's barrel.

It doesn't end there.

Seokmin is a half-step closer to Lina and can move at an inhumane speed, diving into a tuck-and-roll to reach her moments before the residents have no choice but to open fire too.

You know he's fast enough to dodge bullets at close range, but the staggered distance spread out among all of those present in the town's square works little for that insane advantage. Instead, the skilled combatant focuses all his attention on shielding Lina beneath the loose flaps of his impenetrable trench coat. She clings tightly to his leg, whimpering.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Continuing to mutter reassurances, he pats her fluffy brown hair with an unshaking cybernetic palm while the other rapidly points his revolver upwards to deflect a bullet that might've been lucky enough to shatter the bridge of his glasses. Then doing the same to one at five o'clock on his right. He angles his body this way and that as if a puppeteer is yanking the strings connected to his limbs to the perverse beat of an unheard tune. The few he misses land harmlessly against the thick kevlar material you're all wearing.

Meanwhile, your steady hand supports the familiar weight of Sirocco. Muscle memory aids you with cocking the gun as you run. Aiming at the closest group of people near them and then — bang!, bang!, bang! — snipe off the barrels on their guns in rapid succession, rendering them useless.

From behind, something flies past your face and nicks the top of your ear — one of the few places unprotected by bulletproof material — causing you to hiss. Scowling over your shoulder, you squint in the direction it came from.

While a complete bastard, Seungcheol is also the most resourceful ray of hope in a shootout like this. The Punisher's automatic artillery relentlessly fires shot after shot, destroying old and weather-beaten guns like they're empty, crushable soda cans. It's faster too. The trigger-happy pastor twirls it around maniacally, taking only the slightest care to not actually kill anyone.

You're a hundred percent sure it's because of Joshua's disturbing power that allows him to reanimate corpses rather than Seokmin's "Thou shalt not kill" lecture and pacifist philosophies that keeps the supposed 'god-fearing' man from snuffing out anyone's life this time around. Despite the bullets whizzing around, you know he'll fare alright with that healing serum of his — just as long as he doesn't overdose on it.

Mingyu rushes over to stand back-to-back with the pastor, x-shaped claws firing out of his 'stun-gun' and immobilizing many of his targets with ease. You can't help but grimace though, wondering if they'll sustain more brain damage from Joshua's nefarious telepathy or a well-meaning concussion that leaves them unconscious and no longer posing a threat. A solid steel object flies past the brown-haired man's head, knocking down the mind-controlled person who was trying to sneak up on him using a blind spot.

"Ooh, thanks, Seungkwan!"

"Pay attention, you blockhead!"

An empty derringer lays at said blockhead's feet and Mingyu kicks it away with a childlike glee. A brand-new loaded pistol is already in Seungkwan's right hand even as he throws away the one in his left toward someone approaching Seungcheol. The young man's never empty-handed for long because with another flashy twirl from out of his cloak and a new handgun is cocked, aimed, and fired.

Despite the distance and conditions, all three work together like clockwork. Different shaped and sized cogs all interconnected to succeed without causing too much harm. And you know you must play your part as well, turning your attention back to the few townsfolk that remain.

"Seokmin, switch!"

It's not like he needs the heads-up. The way you'd both been inching closer to each other every time your gun's fired already issued the forewarning. It's like a subtle tango performed by two fierce allies surrounded by deadly enemies. If you didn't know better, it's similar to an intricate sword dance.

But you knew how dangerous it was to play with knives.

The swift transfer of Lina's warm little body into your arms is a welcome comfort. Seokmin sends you a dazzling smile, one full of confidence at a successful swap.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you coo and your gloved thumb wipes away one of the tear trails cutting through the dirt smudges on her face. "You are so, so, so brave and I'm so, so, so proud of you."

"He," she sniffles, "my… my… br-brother. W-Wonu!"

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you turn her to face the other way. "Everything's going to fine. I promise. Now, run to Seungcheol. He'll keep you safe while the rest of us finish this."

Seungkwan and Mingyu had effectively disarmed everyone on their end and now worked on dragging the town's unconscious residents inside the saloon and attending to any wounds. The pastor stood guard near the entrance with his Punisher staked firmly into the sandy ground. Although empty of ammunition, the machine gun still served a purpose as a great defender with its imposing cross shape.

With the target assuredly safe — out of sight, out of mind — the control Joshua has over those remaining falters and starts to lose its effect. In the brief lull, Seokmin dashes ahead to deliver a flying kick that helpfully unsheathes the dagger hidden in the sole of his boots, demolishing one more firearm in someone's grip before it can be used again.

Bang!

Bang!

And with Sirocco's precision, the last two are destroyed as well. You match your comrade's grin and turn triumphantly to where the instigators still stand at the entrance.

There would be no casualties today. You and your comrades would make sure of that.

Joshua, stoic as ever, surveys the aftermath with an air of unbothered gracefulness. Jihoon fumes next to him. Panic spikes when Soonyoung can't be spotted at first until you spy him curled up in the car's front seat — asleep.

You fist bump Seokmin in high spirits. Then fearlessly meet a pair of deep orange eyes devoid of any emotion or warmth, a shift occurs in your smile. Confidence and satisfaction hone the corners of your mouth into a daring smirk and something about the bold taunt causes a rare flicker of humor to cross Joshua's lips. Whether it's scornful pity or simple mockery, you don't have time to figure it out because Jihoon snaps.

Nails.

Several of them fly through the air and their wielder's formidable namesake comes from the daunting color that makes the multitude of piercers look like thin streaks of blood against the pale blue sky. The spikes as long as spears are all fired from Jihoon's large suitcase-turned-crossbow that aims just shy of your left side.

Those steel eyes of his are as sharp as their color. The malice within them feels suffocating, so strong and heavy that it sucks all the breath straight out of your lungs. Only the pain from a nail grazing your cheek is enough to pull your attention away from drowning in the unnerving emotion and you put a hand up to the laceration to soothe the sting.

Wetness oozes from your skin, an unsettling feeling of sliminess accompanying the touch. Puzzled, your fingers retract and you ponder the sheer amount of red viscoelastic fluid coating them. There's so much of it pooling that droplets fall to the sand below while others dribble down past your wrist and under your sleeve, the stain blending right in with the fabric of your coat.

Drip.

"It's all your fault!"

Drip.

"Their blood is on your hands…"

Drip.

"Don't you feel guilty?"

Drip.

"Don't you feel responsible?"

Drip.

"Do you regret being the only one left to live?"

Drip.

Faces you know and voices you cannot recall overlap and echo. Unfamiliar frowning expressions and intonations you remember as once gentle now ridicule, belittle, and find every crack in your well-made armor. Insidious whispers weave inside, entangling themselves within the fragile support structures of your mind and very soul. They point and cackle to one another at such a sorry sight, only for you to realize you're angrily jabbing a pointer finger at your worthless reflection with those cursory words coming straight out of your own mouth.

Drip.

Your head turns robotically, like an early prototype of the lost technology Earthlings created. This time it's Sheryl who's the victim, helplessly well within the trajectory line of Jihoon's rage. Every muscle aches, weighed down by exhaustion. Your shoulder burns. Yet you still somehow find the strength within you to rush toward her, especially hearing Lina's desperate wail as she's held back by a grimacing Seungcheol.

Drip.

Like a comet, Seokmin blazes past. He skids to a stop, effectively shielding the woman right before impact. You're too slow to move. In fact, it feels like an out-of-body experience. As if you're nothing but a hologram inside the floating ship — an artificial intelligence projection with no other choice but to witness the horrors and observe tangible objects scuttle towards their inevitable doom without interference. You're left with no choice but to simply watch as the nails are propelled through the air with the intent to strike.

Drip.

Someone's screaming. Maybe it's you.

Drip.

The nails impale Seokmin without mercy. Strike after strike, they pierce straight through the material of his coat designed to repel only bullets and plunge deep within the muscles beneath his skin. One after the other. So many of them stick out of the man's backside like the skeletal bone formation for wings. He slumps to his knees, falling on top of a bewildered but unharmed Sheryl. When he only lays still with no further action, you're struck with the dreadful knowledge that he may never move again and it fills you with an unfathomable maelstrom of raw grief and anger.

Drip.

Suddenly, you're no longer drowning in invisible quicksand and can move freely again. There's zero hesitation in your now fluid movements — not even when the blond-haired man poises his crossbow directly at you this time. Pulling out the spare gun hidden near your hip, you blast the airborne spikes flying towards you without hesitation.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

More fall than you shoot. The anger, pain, and grief you wield is enough to tear them apart like they're nothing but worm larvae helplessly caught in a sandstorm. You stalk forward through the crimson ire that relentlessly strikes down, clearing a path that's littered with broken, twisted, and dented nails before resolutely aiming point-blank at Jihoon's forehead.

Click.

More people are screaming and the spiteful cacophony in your mind resumes. But your ears feel like they're filled with cotton and this time you're stuck underwater. Your chest rises and falls, trying and failing to collect yourself.

"… out of it!"

"Hyperventialing -"

"Goddamn it! Get ahold o'yerself, woman!"

The Crimsonnail sneers.

Your cheek stings.

The dissonance reminds you of the wound from before. But this time it feels like a sting, as if someone slapped you — albeit rather gently. Numb, you halt in place and cautiously raise your hand back to your surprisingly unmarred face. But rather than skin, you grasp onto something solid. Something familiar. Something kind. Something loving. Something safe. Something warm. Something that's yours — always has been and always will be.

Someone.

And then… you open your eyes — and find yourself staring directly into Seokmin's sparkling brown ones.

"Y-you're dead," you manage to choke out in disbelief and his eyes incredulously crinkle into half-moons at the statement to hide the tears brimming in them.

The soothing hand caressing your cheek moves to wrap around the barrel of the gun you're pressing to his forehead and he smiles disarmingly. As if what you just said was the funniest thing ever.

"I know, mayfly."

Part 2 | Read the whole thing on AO3

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #seokmin smut #lee seokmin smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #trigun au #svt au #seventeen au

[beomcoups]

Caller #17

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: basketball player!Soonyoung x college dj reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, 90s au

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: PG-13

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, talks of tough family dynamics, bit of heavy angst, kissing

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 8.8k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You could easily name 10 things that you hate about him. But when you bond over music and families, you realize there's more to him than meets the surface.

𝐀𝐍: This was not an easy fic. It took me way longer than I planned to write, and the story I had mapped out went in a different direction. I still feel proud of this one, my longest fic yet, and I hope that you will enjoy it too 🥹 This is a part of my very own Now That's 90's collab hosted by me and @mingsolo. Thank you to @wooahaeproductions for reading this over and @hobeemin for making a banner for me at the last minute 💙

“Thank you for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s your song of the week?” “Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve!” “You got it! Thanks for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio at 526 AM.” Hitting play on the record, the orchestra's melody hits your ears, sending you into an out-of-body experience, your soul floating to cloud nine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand every time the song is played, and you imagine yourself playing the violin, getting lost in the beautiful and complicated sinfonia.  Working at the college radio station was your life. It’s the only place to lose yourself to TLC, Nirvana, and Weezer for hours without judgment. You are in your 3rd year of college, getting your bachelor’s in music theory so you can be one of the most prominent songwriters in the world. While everyone in high school didn’t know what they would be doing with their life, you always imagined yourself getting a Grammy for Song of the Year on stage. That is your real passion: creating musical poetry for the masses.

You slowly take the headphones off and set them down, looking at the big clock plastered on the wall. You let out a heavy sigh, sad that your time at the station is ending. You are allotted two hours a day on Saturday as a part of credit for your program. If you had it your way, you would be here daily, listening to your favorite records and writing songs between commercial breaks.

“Hey,” your professor Kim calls out from her office. “Come in here before you leave.”

You gather your things to leave, looking at the station one last time before entering the smaller space. This isn’t her regular office, but it has everything you think you would need: a desk, a comfortable chair, and bookshelves full of books and ornaments for decoration. You have spent a lot of time in here, pitching new ideas for the station and getting turned down every single time.

“What's up?” You sit in the chair opposite of her.

“So we will be introducing a new segment to the radio where callers can call in and ask for advice about anything, and then you can recommend a song based on what they are calling in about.:” She pauses to take a sip of water. “I want you to be a part of it.”

You don’t answer right away. You are peeved that Professor Kim wants you to head any segment. You have never shown any initiative to want to talk to anyone who calls in besides listening to music. It’s just not your thing. You are a loner at heart, and that’s how you plan to stay.

“Why me?” You finally speak up. “There are other people who are better at this than I am. Hell, ask Emily. She has been foaming at the mouth to talk about anything other than music.”

“Because you are who I want,” she shrugs. “I see how you look when you talk about your favorite releases. You go deep with the lyrics and how you can relate that to any part of your life. You are more than the person behind the voice, and it’s time other people see that.” “Well, I am not trying to be the next Oprah or Ricki Lake,” you scoff. I just want to play music, write my songs, and do whatever I need to do for the class.”

“No one said you would be the next talk show anything,” Professor Kim retorted. “This will be considered a project, and it’s worth 20% of your grade. Plus, when you are in the industry and have sessions with the artists about the song's lyrics, don’t you need to talk to them about their life and what they need? Think about that.” You nod, feeling defeated because you know you can’t talk your way out of this. You know she is right, but you will never admit it. “Plus, it’ll be a good idea to get out of your shell and work on those social skills,” she says. “We will start in a couple of weeks, so get your mind ready because before you know it, you will be there.” You nod and leave the office, your stomach grumbling loudly as you put your headphones on and listen to the latest Backstreet Boys release. It’s a quarter past seven, and dusk officially sets in the sky as you walk across campus. Working at the radio station is the highlight of your week, as you can’t play music loud at your dorm without others complaining. Fortunately, your dorm is set where you have your own space, but the walls are thin, and you can hear everything. You considered buying noise-canceling foam to cover your door but were told it was “against” the rules. Whatever. Your stomach rumbles again, and you are determined to get a burger and fries in your stomach and drink an Oreo milkshake. You cross the street, open your bag, and grab your wallet before being met with a screeching halt from a car in front of you, its headlights blaring in your eyes. “What the fuck?” You mouth at the driver. The driver pokes his head out the window, and you instantly recognize him as Soonyoung, the star point guard of the basketball team. His black Jeep is crowded, full of guys and girls, with Usher blasting through the speakers. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he waves. “Yeah, no shit,” you retort, walking to the end before the car pulls off. Jeers and boos could be heard, but you could care less. People like that always get in your way no matter what. You avoid people like that as much as people, as you don’t want to be mixed in with that crowd. Soonyoung will eventually go pro and live the NBA life, whereas you will be on the stage accepting awards, with millions of people cheering your name.

The segment started as planned, and you sat and listened to every caller asking for advice. Most of them wanted advice on how to ask someone out for a date, makeup, and things you didn’t care about. The only thing that made it worth it was you got to pick the music to go with the advice, which allowed you to show off your taste in music, from Britney Spears to Mandy Moore, Usher, Sugar Ray, etc. It made the time go by faster as well. You look through the glass, and Professor Kim gives you a thumbs up to take the last call. Letting out a sigh of relief, you let the call ring a few times before you answer. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s on your mind?” “H-hello?” a tenured male voice booms through the speakers. You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You’ve reached C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s on your mind?”

“Hey. You can use this line to ask for advice, right?”

“Yep,” you say, a bit annoyed. “Whatcha got?”

There is a lengthy pause, your fingers tapping dramatically on the soundboard. You raise an eyebrow at the professor, who shrugs and walks out of your view. You hear shuffling in the background, followed by what sounds like something being sipped from a cup.

“S-sorry, I am a bit nervous,” he apologizes. “It’s my first time calling in.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure him. “I know how it is. How can I help?”

“So I already have this path carved out for me by my family and everyone who cares about me. Sports is all I have known all my life, and I have worked very hard to get here.” He stops for a brief second. “Everyone expects me to act like this all-star college boy, and no one ever talks to me about anything else than sports, and I am starting to hate it.”

“Do you mind telling me what kind of sports you’re in?”

“I play ball.”

“Okay, that's good. Well, what is it that you want?”

“I’m tired of being what everyone wants me to be: this golden retriever everyone loves. I just want to be me.” You understood how he felt. Maybe not in sports, but people pushing you to be something you’re not. You come from a family of doctors and lawyers who expected you to be the same. “Get good grades so you can get into an Ivy League school” is all you heard growing up. When you were seven, you expressed interest in music, sitting in front of the family piano on Christmas and playing Jingle Bells, which you learned on your own. Your parents cared for a while, putting you in piano lessons and taking you all over the state for recitals. They figured if you kept this up until high school, it would look good on college applications, but nothing that they took you seriously for. It wasn’t until you learned how to play the guitar in secret that you fell in love with how the strings strummed against your fingers that you realized that your passion is music. Thanks to your choir teacher, you had a good voice and kept it in tune while practicing writing music. You soon sang in front of the school, getting high praise from people all over for your voice and how you would “make it big one day.” Your parents insisted that it was just a phase and that eventually you would become a doctor and make a “real” living. You were determined to prove them wrong by applying to one of the best music schools and getting in on a full ride. You did that, but it came with a cost: being cut off by everyone in your family but your grandparents. They believed in you from the beginning and made sure you were okay. You will pay them back in tenfold one day. “Hello?” the deep voice cut through your thoughts. “Y-yeah, sorry,” you snap back into focus. “Do you want my advice?” “Yeah, I do,” you hear him clear your throat. ‘I think you should be who you want to be. It may feel a little different at first, but eventually, you will be happier being yourself.” “I mean…” he pauses for another second. “How do I go about that? How do I show people the real me?” “Hmm,” you think out loud. “Why don’t you try easing into it? Start a random conversation about something you are interested in that no one knows about. Gauge their reactions, and if they treat you weirdly, then start making new friends. It might be a little harder with your family, but they will come around. But either way, it’s exhausting having to hide yourself at the time. It’s the 90s and a new era!” “Yeah,” he says slowly. I’ll try that.Thanks.” “No problem!” You say. “Check out this song that’ll hopefully speak to your heart. This is me signing off on CARAT Radio, 800am.” You played “You Gotta Be” by Des’ree, a personal favorite, closing out the end of your segment. Admittedly, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, some questions were annoying, but it allowed you to pass on music to people and help them get over whatever. You can’t call that a total loss. You push the mic to the side and leave the room, checking in with your professor before leaving. “Great job,” she leaned back into her seat. “You were well-spoken and composed, and the music selections were excellent. Have you thought about being a radio DJ?” “NO,” you snort. “I want to be more behind the scenes, writing songs and getting Grammys.” “Okay, okay,” Professor Kim chuckles. “But don’t rule it out. You are a natural at it.” You nod and head out the door with a small smile. Getting complimented about your work feels good, but you rule out being a radio DJ. You deal with people if you have to, but you prefer to have time for yourself a lot of times. You’re just introverted like that. However, that last call was in the back of your mind. You just want to live and succeed at your dream job. It was nice knowing someone out there felt the same way you did. 

Before you knew it, a few weeks had passed, and you had secretly liked doing the segment every Saturday, talking to people from different backgrounds and listening to their troubles. You had a song for every call, and you bragged to your professor at the end of your shift that you had impeccable taste. The analytics showed that more people were tuning in during your segment than at any other time on the radio. Not gonna lie; it stroked your ego quite a bit.

The mystery guy called in on Saturdays, ironically being caller #17 every time. He would call and ask for advice about getting his grades up, coming out of his comfort zone, trying new things, etc. You got to know him a little, see how he solves problems, and see his sense of humor. You have no idea what he looked like, but you imagined he was just your type, like a Keanu Reeves, Theo Mizuhara, or Merlin Santana. Is it crazy that you sometimes daydream about a man you never met?

Today was the last day of the advice segment, and everyone called in with their usual advice and well wishes. Like clockwork, the mystery guy was caller #17. His breathing was labored when you answered, followed by a clunk of metal hitting the floor. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s your damage?”

“H-hey.” You know it was him; the sound of his voice was familiar to you. You shift in your seat, sitting straight and placing your elbows on the desk. You try to keep a poker face, your professor watching you with curious eyes. “Hey there,” you clear your throat. “How can I help?” “I heard today is the last day to ask for advice,” he says. “I can’t say I won’t miss calling and hearing your voice every Saturday.” “Oh yeah?” you chuckle. “ That’s good to know. Well, what is the last piece of advice that I can give you?” “So, there is this girl,” he starts. “I really like her. She’s cute, a bit of a hard ass, and I really like her mind. She’s not like anyone that I’ve met. How do I ask her out?” “Does she know you exist?” “Yeah. I almost ran into her once, but we talked a lot.” “Ah. Do you think she might like you?” “I-I’m not sure,” he stutters. “We get along and everything and we have some things in common. I just don’t know if she would be into me.” “Okay, well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask her out? The worst that can happen is that she says no; at least you’d know.” “Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m nervous as hell, that’s all. Have you dated anyone before?” You are taken aback, your professor raising her eyebrows through the glass. You nod, licking your lips before responding. “I’ve dated here and there,” you say slyly. “It wasn't anything serious. What about you?” ‘Um, yeah, I have,” he snorts.

“Well, there you go then, tiger.” You’re clearly entertained by this conversation. “Remember how you felt when you asked the other girls out, and apply that same confidence to this girl. You never know. She might say yes.” “Okay, I will take your word for it. Thank you.” “Not a problem!” You beam. “Here is the last song I leave you with: ’ 4-page letter’ by Aaliyah. Have a good night, ya’ll.”

You play the final track of the night, setting down the headphones while Professor Kim claps her hands in applause. You roll your eyes playfully, pushing your chair onto the desk and exiting the booth. You feel light as a feather, dopamine taking over your body as you meet your professor in her office. “Great job,” she smiles. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” “Maybe,” you plop down on a chair. “It was fun giving out music suggestions.” “Mhmm,” she nods. “Well, get out there and enjoy your Saturday. I will see you in class on Friday.” You grab your things and leave the station, your stomach rumbling and your mouth parched. It’s after 8, and the nearest thing open is the local pizza joint with the best pepperoni pizza with the cheesiest cheese you’ve ever had. You go there often, and the owners, Dante and Gabriella, get your order ready before you sit down. “The usual?” they always ask, knowing that you are a creature of habit. Aside from your grandparents, they were the closest thing to family to you, always making sure your pizza was hot and crispy with a tall cup of Coke to go with it. They asked about your studies, and Gabriella always asked when you’d get a boyfriend. 

“Ah, stop it, amore mio,” Dante jokingly shushes her. “She has all her life to find the love of her life.”

More people started coming in, and they left you to your food and your walkman. You gleefully put Parmesan cheese over your pizza, taking the first bite and feeling instant gratification. A slice of heaven, literally. You take your headphones on, listening to Kurt Cobain croon on Nirvana’s Something In The Way. The “Nevermind” album got you through some tough times, especially when your family cut off communication with you. It hurt you and made you feel isolated and misunderstood. On the outside, your mom and dad put on this persona of being open-minded and willing to do anything for the family. Why were you the exception? You feel the tears well up, and you get yourself together before people start to notice, eating the rest of your pizza before you call it a night. You look around, seeing people on dates or hanging out with their friends, and you miss that. You had friends back home, but you all split up before you went to college. Who knows what their lives are like now. It’s not like you are visiting home anyway. You clean up your mess and walk into the bathroom, relieving yourself and washing your hands before returning to your dorm. You looked at yourself in the mirror: your jean jacket covered your black button-up shirt, shorts, and stockings underneath. Your eyes were slightly red, a contrast from your fresh face. Stifling a yawn, you leave and wave goodbye to Dante, opening the side door and bumping into someone in the process. You look up, facing Soonyoung, his cheerful eyes meeting yours. “We gotta stop meeting like this,” you mutter, backing up and adjusting your jacket. “Yeah, we shouldn’t,” he responds, opening the door to let you out. Your head snaps up, half expecting him to not hear you.  You rake your fingers through your hair, walking out of the restaurant. He’s a handsome guy, you can admit that, with his fresh, faded haircut and trendy clothes. You get why he is popular with everyone. “I’m sorry for almost hitting you with my car the other day,” he calls out. “It’s alright,” you turn around. “Just don’t make it a habit.” “Alright.” He chuckles and goes inside, and you speed walk to your dorm. Did I just flirt with him? You think to yourself. What the fuck was that? You aren’t even interested in Soonyoung in that way. You two are the two opposites of each other. You’re clearly losing your mind.

The cool air calms you down, and the slight breeze underneath the moonlight keeps you at bay until you get to your building. It’s Saturday night, and everyone’s out; the only sound being heard is your boots hitting the tiled floor as you walk down the hallway to your dorm. Unlocking your door, you notice an envelope tucked underneath it. You sit on the bed, open it, and pull out a letter. I know this isn't a four-page letter, but I like you. You’re funny, have good jams, and are down to earth. Did I say that you’re cute? I like talking to you every Saturday and don’t want it to stop. 

 I want to take you out to a concert on Friday. I’ll pick you up at 4 at your dorm. I know you've said yes if you’re there when I arrive. —Caller #17

“What do you think of this?” Your former roommate and good friend, Nikki Prince, holds up a black leather jacket in your size. You asked her to go shopping with you for an outfit for tomorrow's impending date, and you needed another set of eyes. She majors in architecture and design but models on the side thanks to her striking looks. A tall, tanned skin and green-eyed beauty, she now lives with her much older chef boyfriend, Caelan, but whenever you need her, she’s always there. She’s French, stylish, and brutally honest. You loved that about her. “I dig that,” you take it from her and try it on. It fits you just right. It would be chilly, so you bought new boots, a white shirt, and black jean shorts to wear with black stockings underneath. You wanted to be comfortable as you would be on your feet all night. 

“Are you sure about this date?” Nikki’s foreign accent comes through. “How do you know this guy isn’t some serial killer? We’ve all seen Scream.” “Gee, thanks, mom,” you roll your eyes. “If he tries anything with me, I’ll just show him the moves I learned from the YMCA.” 

“I’m serious. This is risque for you, no?” You shrug, slowly taking off the jacket and heading to the cashier. “I get your point, and if anything happens, I can defend myself. But I have a feeling that it won’t happen.” You greet the cashier and pay for the jacket. “I’ll call you before I leave and tell you about it the next day. Deal?” Nikki nods, and you both walk out of the store, satisfied with what you bought. The mall is busy for a Thursday night, with young adults frolicking at stores like Rave and Wet Seal, looking for the latest fashion trends. The mall isn’t really your scene, as you prefer to thrift shop for your clothes. You have been lucky to find some hidden gems there, especially since you are on a limited budget. Nikki, however, said it was a special occasion, and you quote, “You are not going on a date in someone else’s vêtements.”

You stop at Auntie Anne’s, buying a massive pretzel with cheese on the side, while Nikki opts for a small lemonade. You offer her a piece, which she declines, saying her boyfriend, Caelan, will make her dinner later. “How is that going, by the way?” You sit down at a table. “It’s going good,” she enthuses, raking her fingers through her long black tresses. “He’s so mature and sophisticated. Imagine not having to cook and clean after a man and have good sex.” “Well, yeah, he’s about six years older,” you remark. He better know a thing or two if he wants to keep his model.” Nikki gloats as you finish your pretzel, talking about the elaborate French dishes her boyfriend makes for her and how he worships the ground she walks on. Since you’ve known her, she has always been opinionated and refused to associate with people within your age group. Whenever you see her in the hallways, she always talks with teachers or ignores the lustful looks of college boys. You two got on well because you were roommates, and both were Scorpio risings. You understood each other. “Oh shoot, I better head back to the flat,” Nikki says, looking at her watch. Caelan is going to be home soon, and he is making steak frites tonight.” 

“Yeah, I gotta head to the dorm anyway. Early class tomorrow.”

You walk out of the mall into the chilly night air. She offers you a ride home, and you decline at first, saying that you will walk as it's pretty close. But a slight wind blows, bringing chills down your spine.

“Wait,” you shout after her. “I’ll take that ride.”

The ride was short and quiet, your mind occupied with your date with this mystery stranger. Nikki was right, you don’t know him, and he could be this crazy guy. But you’re also excited; the butterflies haven’t left your stomach since Saturday. You feel like you know him, and you don’t even know his name. He is just caller #17.

She pulls up to your building, and you hug her, preparing to run inside and shower. You know Nikki is still worried and means well, even if she sometimes acts like an overbearing old sister.

“Come over tomorrow at two if you can,” you announce. “You can help me get ready and meet my date in case anything goes crazy.”

“Alright,” Nikki seems relieved. “I’ll be there.”

You shut the door and shout your goodbyes before sprinting inside.

“Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

The next day went fast, like a blur. You slept past your alarm and woke up after twelve, making you two hours late.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” you shout as you scrambled out of bed and tripped over a blanket. You throw on a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater from the University, your hair in a wild ponytail as you brush your teeth and high-tailed it out the door. You ran to class, forming an apology along the way, your heart beating out of your chest. You are met, however, with a closed door and a white paper plastered on the door:

NO CLASS TODAY. ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND.

“Really?” You huffed, leaning against the wall. It’s not like you are late for class; your alarm was

set despite you being up late last night. But whatever, fuck it. You aren’t about to let this ruin your day.

The leaves flow softly with the wind as you walk back to your dorm, the sun playing hide and seek in the clouds. All you can think about is tonight and what concert you are going to. Maybe it’s a huge concert, and that’s why he is picking you up early… or perhaps it’s a local indie band at a bar. Your mind runs with endless possibilities, excitement pumping through your veins. You aren’t a hopeless romantic or a love-at-first-sight kind of person, but something about this person makes you feel good… like you finally have someone who can relate to you on some level. Granted, you have only talked with him on the phone, but you have a gut feeling and are rarely wrong about these things. You finally return to your dorm and take a well-needed shower, washing and detangling your hair with much-needed privacy. Your dorm has shared showers; you usually take them when everyone is asleep at night. Fortunately, there were only a few people, allowing you to have time for yourself. You allow yourself to think of the water running down your body as him, his hands caressing your body, his lips maybe touching yours— “Is anyone in here?” You snap out of your daydream quickly, and the water turns cold right on queue. “Y-yeah?” “I am here to clean the showers,” a woman’s voice calls from the door. “O-okay, give me a second.” Cursing silently, you quickly step out and dry yourself, throwing on your robe and grabbing your shower caddy before exiting the bathroom. You are met by an older woman wearing a shirt representing your college and sweats, with cleaning supplies in tow. “You were in there for a while,” she remarks as she sets out the wet floor sign. Do you have a hot date tonight?” “Something like that,” you shrug. You walk back to your room, and to your surprise, Nikki is outside your door. “You’re early,” you remark, unlocking the door. “Yes, I know,” she said. “But we will need more than two hours to get yourself right.” “You act like I can’t dress myself,” you scoff. “I just wanted your company, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah? Mon ami, when was the last time you changed your makeup?” You open your mouth to rebuttal but close it immediately. You hate to say it, but Nikki’s right. It’s not like you are going anywhere besides school, the music store, and the pizzeria. “Exactly,” Nikki says, setting her stuff down on her bed. “I went and got you makeup close to your teint, just in case.” She pulls out brand-new makeup from Revlon from mascaras, concealers, powders, and assortments of lipsticks of my choosing. She also bought nail polishes, saying it was time to add some color to your life. As much as you want to roll your eyes at her, she is right. As harsh as Nikki seems sometimes, she has a big heart and always looks out for you when you least expect it. You know a thing or two about style, but she takes it to a whole different level and isn’t shy about giving advice on it. You appreciate her so much. Being honest with yourself, you are nervous as hell. You have had crushes before, but you have never been pursued like this, where someone likes you enough to ask you out formerly, even if it was via a note. This person cares about your mind or seems to. You aren’t sure how to feel; you want to be excited and have a good time, but you have a wall up for a reason. You don’t want to be disappointed again like your family has. You figured if the people you love the most can abandon you like that, there is no hope for you out there. You lived with that hard truth for a long time, and you were content with that. But god, this guy has you curious. “What’s on your mind?” Nikki finishes with your makeup and hair, gazing at you through the mirror. “Butterflies in my stomach are killing me,” you grimace. “I can’t believe I am even doing this.” “Oh, relax,” she blows a raspberry. “You always do this thing where you talk yourself out of things you deserve. Stop that. D'accord? “Yes, mother,” you tease. She sucks her teeth, and you get dressed, putting on the new clothes you bought and your black leather boots. Checking out your appearance, you are satisfied with your look, and Nikki gives you a thumbs up while she cleans up. Knock, Knock! You look at the door, the butterflies fluttering deeper in your stomach. You look in the mirror one last time as Nikki opens the door, a brief silence followed by a heart chuckle. “Mon ami, your date is here.”

You see him, and you're stunned. It dawns on you why he’s here, and you feel your heart drop all the way to your ass. This has to be some kind of joke. “Soonyoung? What are you doing here?” He walks more into your view, wearing a grey jean jacket with matching pants. His right hand is in his pocket, and he has a small bouquet of irises in his other hand. “I’m here to take you to the concert?” Nikki is behind him, trying to keep her composure and mask her giggles. Of all the people you thought would show up, Soonyoung was the LAST person on your mind. This is the person who was calling in every Friday and wanting to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “What happened?” you accost him. “Did you lose some bet, and you had to ask me out? Or do you feel bad for almost hitting me with your car?” “No?!” he scoffs, clearly offended. “I mean, yes, I feel bad about almost hitting, but no one dared me to do anything. Do you think I am that kind of person?” “Well, yes.” You wish you could take back what you said, but it was too late. You knew you hurt his feelings, the crestfallen look on his face saying it all. “This was a mistake,” he sighs dejectedly. “Sorry, I wasted your time.” He handed Nikki the flowers and walked away, the air feeling thick and awkward. You couldn’t even look at her in the eyes. You knew you fucked up. “Well, that was awkward,” you huff. “And shitty.” You raise an eyebrow at her, and she stares you down. You don’t want to feel worse than you already do, and Nikki isn’t helping. “Honestly, I think the guy was telling the truth,” Nikki surmises. “He looked like a sad puppy.” You think about this caller #17 guy who would call in every week and share his thoughts with you about everything, with you having to do very little. You think about how scared he felt about being his true, authentic self and how much courage it probably took to ask you out. You know you are a tough cookie to crack and understand better than anyone how it feels to go against the grain and be who you are. “I fucked up Nik,” you slump on your bed. “Yeah, you did.” God, you hate her bluntness sometimes, but she’s right. You need to go find him and make this right. “Do you think he’s still here?” you ask, sitting up and grabbing your purse. “He couldn’t have left that fast.” “Only way to find out is to get off your ass and find him,” she says, pulling your arm. “Go find your guy.” You both rush out of your dorm, jogging down the hallway and out of the building, looking for a silhouette of him. You were scared you missed him and felt defeated, not seeing any sight of him anywhere. Surveying the area one last time, you noticed a black Jeep peeling out of the parking lot. It stops at the stop sign, the second to last car to go. This is your only chance. “WAIT!”

You sprint towards the car, barely meeting him as he is about to turn.

“STOP,” you exhale, relieved that you caught him. “Don’t go.” Soonyoung steps out as you rest your hands on the hood of his car, trying to catch your breath. He touches your arm, his hands soft as silk, sending shocks throughout your body.

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking a good look at you.

“Aside from me about to pass out, I’m good.” You take a deep breath. “Listen. I’m sorry. I was a jerk and an asshole and—”

“MOVING YOUR FUCKING CAR!”

A middle-aged woman leans out of the window and gives you the bird, followed by a slew of car horns beeping in annoyance behind you and Soonyoung.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung curses, realizing the amount of cars behind him. “Get in the car.”

You both get in the car and drive off from the angry drivers, pulling into the nearest gas station. You sit with your hands in your lap, this weight of regret sitting on your chest and guilt eating you from the inside. You look at him, and he seems surprisingly relaxed as if you didn’t reject him

not even thirty minutes ago.

“I’m going to get some gas,” he announces. “Wait here.” 

You watch him walk inside to pay and let out the deepest, most agonizing sigh. He should be calling you every name in the book, and rightfully so, as you insulted him. Why is he being so nice? Does he really like you that much?

He returns a few minutes later, shoving his pockets with change left over, and you both lock eyes with each other. In another situation, you would’ve been able to appreciate his good looks, trendy clothes, and tiger-like appearance. But instead, you feel sick to your stomach, disappointed in how you acted. You look down, twiddling your thumbs until he finishes pumping his gas and returning to the car. This is not like you at all. “Hey,” he says. “Hi,” you stammer. “I’m sorry again. I feel like a terrible person, and I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that.” “I know you were intense, but Jesus Christ,” he exhaled. “Why do you think I wouldn’t be interested in you? You made it seem like I lost a bet to ask you out. You made me feel like crap.” Every word felt like a punch in the gut, and you deserved it. Despite your parents' many flaws, they always taught you not to judge a book by its cover, and that’s precisely what you did. You were pretentious and stuck up about him. In some ways, you aren’t any different from them. “I guess…” your voice trails off. “I just saw you as the athlete that everyone is in love with. Your friends, I know the type, and we’ve never really crossed paths with each other unless I was bumping into you or almost getting hit by your car.” “So… you saw me as the very thing I told you I didn’t want to be seen as.” You didn’t have to answer back. You both knew the answer, and it was eating you up inside. “I’m sorry, I am just gonna go.” Before he could stop you, you exited the Jeep and started walking back toward your dorm. You are embarrassed and can never face him again. This is why you don’t don’t talk to anyone. This is awkward; it feels weird. You lose yourself in your thoughts until you reach the street light, waiting for your turn to go. The air is slightly chilly than usual, the smell of the ocean taking over your senses that you would enjoy any other time. Yeah, a walk to the beach sounds nice, you say to yourself just as the street signal turns green. You feel someone’s hand pulling you away, and you twirl around, facing Soonyoung’s back as he takes you back to his car.

“You’re dramatic as hell, you know that, right?” He shouts over his shoulder. “You didn’t even let me respond; you just hopped out like you were on the run.” 

You stayed silent. What more could you say? He was right. He opens the passenger side, letting you slide in and shutting the door behind you. A few seconds later, he is on your other side, turning on the ignition. 

“You not a terrible person,” he breathes. “A terrible person wouldn’t come sprinting out of their doom in boots and a nice outfit trying to apologize. You said you’re sorry, and it’s fine.” “Is it?” 

“I mean, I’ll get over it,” he shrugs. “I wouldn’t have pulled you back here if I didn’t want to be around you. Now, do you still want to go back and forth about this, or do you want to make it up to me by going to this concert?” It’s a brief moment of silence as you seriously consider your options. You can tell Soonyoung is still bothered by what you did, but his small smile clarifies your decision. “Lead the way, tiger.”

He chuckles as he pulls out of the lot, pulling into a line of cars headed in the same direction. The sun starts to set, the golden hour hitting the horizon at the sea. You fold your arms, confused as to why he is being so nice to you, despite you being a bitch to him earlier. You haven’t felt forgiveness in a long time, which feels foreign. Uncomfortable. You hope this feeling will go away as the night goes on.

You mainly rode in silence aside from the music on the radio, and the hour trip to the venue seemed to be double that. You pull up to Bayfront Amphitheater, packed to the brim with people screaming their hearts out to the band onstage. Your heart skips in excitement, realizing what concert Soonyoung took you to. 

“The Foo Fighters?” you grin, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ve been wanting to see them forever.: “Yeah, I remember you were talking about it on the radio, so I figured why not,” his voice trails off. 

Your heart feels like it is going to burst at the seams. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you, and you had the nerve to be a bitch to him earlier. 

“Hey,” you clear your throat. “I’m sorry again. I feel really shitty about it.”

“I know,” he says. “Look, let’s just enjoy this concert, and I’ll forget about it, okay?” You nod, walking towards the loud music. The rhythm of the drums and guitar blended together, hyping the crowd. You let Soonyoung lead the way, checking your tickets and guiding you to your seats. The crowd is thick, with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol flowing freely, and everyone is caught in their own zone. You wouldn’t say you are claustrophobic, but being packed like sardines isn’t your definition of a good time. Soonyoung notices your discomfort and grabs your hand, holding tight until he finds your assigned seats. You felt safe with him, a tiny spark in you that made you swoon. 

“Are you okay?” He shouts over the noise. “Do you want a beer or anything?” “Nah, I’m good,” you shake your head. 

The opening act finishes their set, the crowd politely cheering as the members walk off the stage. There is a small intermission, with people disbursing from their seats to grab drinks or making quick trips to the bathroom. You can feel Soonyoung looking at you, his eyes burning into the left side of your face. You lick your lips and pull strands of your hair to the back of your ear, a blatant attempt at flirting. 

“Are you gonna stare at me all night?” You feel bold, turning your body towards him. “I might,” he purrs. “I have a beautiful, mysterious girl sitting beside me.”

“I’m not that mysterious. We’ve been talking for weeks.” ‘Yeah, in front of thousands of people on the radio. Now I have you all to myself, and I want to get to know the real you.”

“Uh huh,” you nod. “Well, I’m always the same on and off air. You’ll see.” “I hope so.” He smiles at you, and gotta admit the man can flirt. Soonyoung is devastatingly handsome, and he’s quick with his words. It excites you. You like being around people you can banter with and not take shit personally. It takes a load off your shoulders, not having to hold yourself back every time. You just want to be you and be free. It feels like Soonyoung is chasing the same thing. 

“I wouldn’t have predicted you’d be into rock bands like the Foo Fighters. What made you want to go to their concert aside from me?”

“Well, you might be surprised to hear this, but I actually like the band,” he laughs. “I’ve been following them since their debut.”

“Really?” you say. “That’s cool.” “What?” Soonyoung leans closer, your shoulder barely touching his. “Do I not seem like the Foo Fighters type?” “Aht aht,” you playfully wave your finger at him. “I’m not getting tripped up on that question.” You fell into a rhythm of laughter that felt natural as if you had been doing this all your life. Despite your fuck up, he makes you feel cozy and open. The sun makes one final appearance, shining its glorious light on his beautiful, tanned skin. You can fully admit to yourself that he’s handsome as fuck, taking him all in before the sun dips below the horizon. “No, but seriously, I don’t seem like the type to be into them?” You pause before responding, being careful with your answer. “On the surface, no. But I am learning that there is more to a person than meets the eye.” There is a comfortable silence between you two, the sweet-smelling breeze keeping you at bay as you sit and enjoy each other’s company. You have so much you want to say but don’t simultaneously. You savor this tiny bit of peace with him. “I think I am gonna grab a drink,” Soonyoung gets up suddenly. “Do you want anything?” “Yeah, like a juice or something.” You watch him leave, checking out his ass as he stands in the concessions line. Nice and firm, definitely a football player’s ass. You look away before being caught, watching the crew prepare for the next act. You feel like a young girl who just realized you have a crush on a boy. You’re giddy inside, hypersensitive to everything around you and how you look. You hope he finds you as attractive as he says he does, or if not, keep up the lie a little longer. You’ve been dealt many disappointments in your life, and you can’t let this be one of them. 

“Here. I got you a lemonade.”

You gaze up at Soonyoung, carefully grabbing the cup from his hand. He has a cup of beer in the other, sipping before making a face. You laugh in your cup, tasting your sweet drink with some tart. You feel refreshed and a little bit alive, thanks to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, who’s ready for the FOO FIGHTERS?”

The crowd erupts into a roar as the band joins the stage, getting their placements to perform. Jolts of electric excitement course throughout your body, screaming your heart out before the first string is played on the guitar. You’ve always wanted to see them in concert, being a huge fan of Nirvana and following Dave Grohl after. Despite everything, he seems like a rad guy, and

if you ever had the opportunity, you would want to pick his brain and jam out with him. “ARE YOU MUTHAFUCKERS READY?” Dave Grohl shouts into the mic. 

 You both scream as the first song is played, the drums scratching the excellent part of your brain while the guitars take you to another level. You look at Soonyoung, his attention on the band with his arms folded, in awe of the performance being given. He looks adorable, and all you can do is smile, satisfied that you are in this space and can experience this moment. The band keeps playing hit after hit, the energy around you making you want to levitate in the clouds. You haven’t been this happy in a long time. You reach the last song of the night, and the key changes, the guitars riffing into a song you know all too well. “I want everyone to sing this song with us— this is for the regular heroes out there.” 

You feel the emotion and intensity in Dave Grohl’s voice, making you emotional. The song is about the ordinary person and their potential; you wish your family saw your potential. You wish you could share your music with them and see you thrive in the elements you’re most comfortable in. But instead, you’ve been cast out, and as much as you worked hard to get over it, it hurts you deeply. “Are you okay?” Soonyoung looks at you wide-eyed; you’re unaware of the tears trickling down your face. All you want to do is be held and told everything will be okay. As if he read your mind, he holds your hand, his thumb rubbing your palm softly, keeping you anchored in your emotional storm. Nothing else needed to be said between you two; the song lyrics moved your spirit. Kudos, my hero

Leavin' all the mess

You know my hero

The one that's on

There goes my hero

Watch him as he goes

There goes my hero

He's ordinary

“Thank you for taking me to the concert. I had a really good time.”

You sit with Soonyoung in his car, sitting outside of your dorm. You talked about music all the

way back home, singling your hearts out to whatever is on the radio. Soonyoung is surprisingly a good singer, hitting some notes even better than you can. You wonder if he had any training. “I’m glad I was able to make it up to you,” he grins. “Oh, please,” you wave him off. I’m the one who started us on the wrong foot.” “True. But I think you more than made up for it tonight.” “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes playfully. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.” 

“Why were you crying during the concert?” You knew this question would come eventually, but you still felt unprepared. You hadn’t really talked about your family life with anyone besides Nikki, but you were determined to keep it to yourself. But he makes you want to open up. “The song really hits me,” you point at your chest. “I feel every word and every percussion note as it plays. It reminds me of my mom and dad, and I wish they saw me as a normal person with their own aspirations rather than the person they want me to be. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Soonyoung nodded his head, understanding what you were saying. 

“My parents wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, and I just don’t see myself doing that. I fell in love with music and singing, and when I shared that I wanted to do songwriting full-time, they made me feel so low. Like I am stupid and naive for wanting a career, I would actually be happy.” You huff, wiping fresh tears off of your face. “I just wanted them to support me, but they couldn’t even do that. Aside from my grandparents, they cut me off completely.” “That’s not cool,” Soonyoung scoffs. “So they just went cold turkey and quit talking to you?” You nod, bitterly reliving the last conversation you had with them before you made no contact. “Why can’t our parents just let us live the lives we want? It’s like they want to live vicariously through us.” “Right?!” You exclaim. “See, you get it!”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he mumbled. You turn your body to look at him, studying his face and the possible thoughts he is having. You may see more eye to eye than you realize. ‘So, what’s your damage?” You poke at him. “It’s the same as yours,” he revealed. “They just want me to keep playing basketball so I can go into the big leagues and take care of everyone. I am essentially everyone’s meal ticket.” “Well, you don’t have to be,” you say. “You could just say fuck ‘em and live for yourself.” “Easier said than done,” he sighs. “I’m the first person in my family to attend college, and I actually like playing basketball. I believe in it, bleed it, all that… but whenever I am around my folks or friends, that’s all they want me to be about it. It’s like I’m not real. I am a person with complex interests and feelings, too.” 

“I know exactly what you mean, tiger.” 

You smile reassuringly; you understand that last sentence all too well. Your family would rather consider you the family fuck up, the black sheep, instead of understanding that you wanted different things. Why is that so fucking complicated? You stifle a yawn, looking at your watch and seeing how late it was.

“I really like talking to you and being around you,” Soonyoung confesses. I hope we can do it more.” “Yeah,” you gaze into his eyes. “ I would love that.” He walks you to your dorm, opens the doors, and holds your waist as you walk up the steps. His hands bring jitters and butterflies in your stomach that you hope you can experience more. You know you have a hard, cold exterior on the outside, but deep down, you want to feel love and adoration from someone. You hope Soonyoung can bring that. 

You never want this feeling to go away.

“Thank you for walking me in,” you say, unlocking the keys to your room. “I know I was being a bitch early, but thank you for showing me a good time anyway.” 

“It was worth it, seeing a smile on your face.” 

“Was it?” 

“Yeah,” he leans in closer. “I want to see it more.”

His lips touch yours, your chest bursting like fireworks as he deepens the kiss. Your arms rest on his shoulders, feeling natural and comfortable like a glove. He is gentle and kind, not doing too much but making you feel safe and like you can depend on him. It's crazy how one kiss can have you seeing your future. 

“We should do that more often,” you joke, leaving one last peck. He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “We will. I’ll make sure to do it more often.” 

“Okay,” you say, walking into your dorm. “I’ll hold you to it.”

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #svthub #svt fanfic #svt oneshot #svt scenarios #svt imagines #soonyoung fanfic #soonyoung x reader #soonyoung fluff #soonyoung angst #svt fluff #svt angst #hoshi fluff #hoshi angst #hoshi x reader

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TOP 5 MUST HAVE Sims 4 Career Mods

These are my most personal Career mods for the sims 4, please don't forget to show love and support to the creators.

1- Youtube Career Mod by itsmeTroiYT

There is so many interactions with this mod it is unbelievable! If you head to the download button below it will bring you to the creator's post which will show all the type of things you can do with this mod but for now to keep the Tumblr photo limit here is some of the creator's notes that explain the levels and the branches

Gamer (6-10) PC Noob $100/hr Streamer $200/hr Daily Uploader $300/hr Tagline Genius $600/hr Prestige Gamer $1500/hr

Vlogger (6-10) Viner $100/hr Prank Wars Vlogger $200/hr Unbox Therapy $300/hr Vlogger $600/hr Daily Vlogger $1600/hr

DIY Hot Glue Gun Mess $250/hr Creative Weirdo $350/hr Hacks Master $600/hr DIY Superstar $650/hr [Something] DIY $1500/hr

MUA Fenty Beauty Counter Rep $200/hr Brand Tester $300/hr Makeup Brand Collab $350/hr Personal Makeup Artist $750/hr MUA $1500/hr

Cooking One Pan Cook $150/hr Made from TV/Movies $300/hr Remixed Recipe Cook $345/hr Guest Host Cook $625/hr Master Cook $1500/hr

FX Makeup Artist NYX Face Awards $120/hr Halloween Royalty $200/hr FX on a Budget $350/hr Workshop Personality $645/hr Glam & Gore $1450/hr

download

2- Modeling Career Mod by KPC0528

This is an amazing mod! If you want your sim to become a model this is the mod for you! This does require the City living & Get Famous expansion packs, so be aware. Here are the creator's notes about the levels and branches;

1. Volunteer Model--there is no pay for the beginning of this career. I wanted to make it as realistic as possible, so level 1 is all about building a portfolio and gaining exposure.  Mood: Confident M - W - F S S

2. Local Model -- Your sim will be part of the "mall crowd" participating in local fashion shows. These jobs aren't very selective... $15/hr.  Skills: Charisma 1  Mood: Confident - T - T F S S

3. Hand Model-- Keep those hands soft and supple as your sims model rings, bracelets, and watches for local jewelry designers!  $18/hr.  Skills: Charisma 2 Mood: Confident - T - T F S S

4. Hair Model-- Cutting, coloring, styling. Your Sims's hair will be put through it all in exchange for some simoleons and their pictures to be featured in hair dressers' portfolios.  $20/hr.  Skills: Charisma 3, Fitness 3 Mood: Confident - T - T F S S 

Choose track: Commercial Model or High Fashion Model

Commercial Model track: Commercial models are the models you would see in shopping catalogs and local commercials. The sim-next-door look is desired, so your sim will need attractive looks as well as an attractive personality to do well in this career track. 

5. Commercial Catalog Model--Your sim will be showcasing the newest collections by the most popular stores, like Sim Navy and JC Simmy.  $50/hr.  Skills: Charisma 4, Fitness 4 Mood: Confident M T W - F S -

6. Fitness Model-- Fitness is the name of the game here. Your sim must continue to sculpt his/her body to perfection in order to sell the newest workout gear and sports drinks.  $65/hr.  Skills: Charisma 5, Fitness 7 Mood: Energetic M T W T - S - 

7. Social Media Model-- Your sim's face is getting popular online! He/she will be modeling the hottest makeup, jewelry, and clothing through various social media platforms like Simstagram.  $80/hr.  Skills: Charisma 7 Mood: Confident - - W - F S S 

8. Music Video Model-- Who wouldn't want to be a model in a famous music video? Your sim must hone in their dance skills so they don't embarrass themselves in front of the musical superstars.... $90/hr.  Skills: Charisma 8, Dancing 3 Mood: Confident M T - T F S - 9. Television Model-- Television! Your sim will be featured on all sorts of commercials, from clothing and perfume, to cookware and living room furniture. $130/hr.  Skills: Charisma 10 Mood: Confident M T W - F S -

10. Coversim-- The ultimate goal! Your sim is on every grocery store magazine rack, dishing the newest gossip about his/her love life, as well as modeling the hippest designs. Congrats, superstar!  $300/hr.  Mood: Confident M T W - F S - 

High Fashion Model track: This track is for the serious fashionista. In order to gain celebrity as a high fashion model, your sim must be both gorgeous and interesting, as well as charismatic and athletic. Reaching the end of this track means worldwide fame and luxury! 5. Swimsuit Model-- Swimsuit models are photographed even in the winter months, so this isn't just for fun! Your sim must be in excellent shape to make it as a swimsuit model.  $55/hr.  Skills: Charisma 5, Fitness 6 Mood: Flirty M T W - F S - 

6. Lingerie Model-- No room for shy sims here! Upscale lingerie is a mega-money-making business, so only the most alluring sims will be successful.  $75/hr.  Skills: Charisma 6, Fitness 8 Mood: Flirty M T W - F S - 

7. Fashion Catalog Model-- High-end fashion is extremely expensive, so the stakes are high. Your sim must continue to perfect his/her body and personality in order to sell these interesting-looking clothes in the highest end fashion magazines.  $90/hr.  Skills: Charisma 7, Fitness 9 Mood: Confident M T - T F S -

8. Runway Model--Don't trip! All eyes are on your sim as he/she struts their stuff on the catwalk. Sims watching and cameras flashing can be nerve-wracking for even the most confident sim, but this is a necessary step in order to become a supermodel.  $120/hr. Skills: Charisma 8, Fitness 10 Mood: Confident - T W - F S S 

9. Editorial Model--Sim Vogue. Your sim is on the cover, looking fierce as fierce can be! Your sim is the epitome of a style icon, and everyone is looking at him/her for style inspiration.  $300/hr.  Skills: Charisma 10 Mood: Confident M T W - F S -

10. International Supermodel--Traveling the world for fashion shows? Check. Hosting reality style shows? Check. Getting paid to be famous? Check. Your sim is THE top model, as long as a newer, hotter thing doesn't come around.  $450/hr. Mood: Confident M - W - - S - 

download

3- Social Services Career Mod by missmani09

This is a great mod if your interested in having your sim work in social services for a backstory or maybe its just what you mapped out they would be in your head. Here are some of the creator's notes about this mod;

Social Serivices:

1) Clerical Staff Extra Help  -Responsible for copying and filing documents, sorting documents

2) Administrative Specialist I  -answer phones, answer client's questions, file, sort

3) Administrative Specialist II -Key application, answer telephones, work front desk window correspond emails

4) Administrative Specialist Supervisor  Supervise all clerical staff ensure front desk runs smoothly ensure applications are keyed correctly ensure office machinery is working properly assign staff job duties

------------------------------------------------------------ ---(AA) ---- Division of Sim County Operations ------- ----------------------------------------------------------

5A) Program Eligibilty Specialist I  - SNAP Process Sim food stamp program applications.  Interview & verify resources Assist homeless sims Determine eligibilty for supplemental nutrition program

6A) Program Eligbiliy Specialist II Process sim program applications Determine eligibilty for Sim daycare voucher applications Determine eligibilty for supplemental nutrition program

7A) Family Health Care Case Manager  -Family Medicaid Process Sims' medicaid applications.  Determine medical coverage eligibilty for Sims including  Working Sims' medical coverage, SimKids Care A or SimKids Care B

8A) Aged Sim Health Care Case Manager  Process Aged, Retired, and Disabled elder sims' medicare applications Determine disability 

9A) Sim Social Services County Administrator  oversee especific sim world in which sim currently lives

10A) Sim Social Services National Director  oversee all sim worlds

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

---(BB) Division of Child Protective Services -------------------------------------------------------------- job is to protect and ensure the health, safety, and well being off all sim children.

5B) Child Protective Service Worker  Visit homes. Provide struggling parents with resources and tools to become effective parents. Remove children from home if necessary to the  childs health & safety

6B) Child Abuse&Neglect Investigator  visit homes. on call rotation investigate suspected sim child neglect/abuse that comes into the hotline issue warnings to parent's who a nearing neglectful standards Remove children from home if necessary to the  childs health & safety

7B) Foster Care Case Manager  On call rotation. Manage Sim children's cases who have been removed from their home due to neglect/abuse. write extensive case notes

8B) Adoption Specialist  process adoption applications. match waiting foster children and  place into adoptive home

9B) Sim County CPS Supervisor Oversee foster care and CPS case managers 

10B) Sim CPS National Director 

download

4- Psychologist Career mod by Kittyblue

This is career mod is actually my favorite for storytelling! In this mod there are two branches which are Counseling Psychology and Forensic Psychologist.

download

5- Tattoo Artist Career mod by MesmericSimmer

I love this one so much, mainly because I want one of my sim's backstory to include this career. They have this career option for both adults and teens!

download & more info

#sims 4 cc #sims 4 download #sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #the sims 4 #sims 4 custom content #sims 4 mods #the sims 4 mods #the sims 4 custom content #ts4 #sims 4 careers #s4 mods #s4 download #s4 custom content #s4 cc #s4 gameplay #s4 cc finds #cc finds #ts4ccfinds #ts4 cc #sims4download #sims4 #thesims4 #sims cc finds #ts4 cc finds

[k-looking-glass-house]

Happy 4th anniversary Twst!

I can't believe it's been 4 years.... I started playing it when I was Sam's age...now I am ....Vargas's age....

But trust me my interest and passion for Twisted Wonderland started around 2018... When Yana dropped such "a bomb" on her twitter with a Disney collab and a thank you 100k followers sketch with Crewel, Crowley, Trein/Lucius and the Yami no Kagami.... I was doomed when I saw "le fanart" of Malleus rising of a coffin then.... I was like....OMGGG ooohhh monnn dieeuuu....that art Yana-senseiiiii....isn't it Maleficientttt!!! I became such ....such the most platoniiic lover/fan-girl ever of Malleus *staring at him with dead fish eyes and not speaking* My kakkoi dragon fairy, Maleficient grandson!! And I literrally "harassed" my partner in crime @twiwoncrackpopcorn everyday with it, being a 90's baby Disney's fan and Yana-sensei's one too.... I was searching every infos on the internet, every little crumbs about it!! Waiting for the game release....and thanks god during covid-19 I had Animal Crossing New Horizon and...Twisted Wonderland games...(my work as a nurse was.... I can't even tell you how "interesting" it was to see and witneeeessss how humans are humans...more like sh**it as**ole tr*u du c*l de m*rde* *screaming*...... *breathing*) Anyhow I am thankful to have entered this fandom and universe, and tried my best to share my passion with people around the world!! I met such amazing persons here!!!..... I am so so so grateful... fandom can be hell....but not for me here... Thank you all!!!! Also thank my non blood sibling @twiwoncrackpopcorn..... Best person in the universe....I MEAN IT!!! ^ Don't read I am shy^..... I am happy to learn that the game is still developing and under good care !! And happy to see more fans from everywhere under this same passion!!

Also.....

.....

......................FINALLLYYYYYYYYY

WE WOOOON NRC STAFF FANS.....WE GOOOOT ITTTT!! MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT TEAM LET'S PARTY AND DRINK CHAMPAGNE AT SAM'S ALL NIGHT!!!

LE CONTENUUUUUU

THE CONTENNNNT

AFTER 4 YEAARRRRRS LITTLE ONEEEEE

WAKE UP RISE AND SHINE DARLIIINGGGG!!!

BECAUSE THE STAFF IS HERE!!!!!

Yes now we only have to wait their SSR!!!!

Create your own happy anniversary celebration here!!

Also...I couldn't write Cass...because maybe a*s..... I mean it ...It was kind of cute but too bad for my nickname then....

Also little K. Oswald Junior 101's key as they will make a remake of "Epic Disney Mickey" rebrushed!! Congrates Oswald the lucky rabbit!!! *teary*

Spoilers please be careful illustration with a twist~

...Did I just put myself among the staff...and their wonderful groovy.......

"Yes.....and...?"

With Crewel being done, Sam spotting everything...and Trein-sensei being the best aduuuult xD!!!

Alsooooooooo....Crowleeeyyyyy are you drinking Champagne in the rythmic game....

Gimme....Gimmmmeeeeeeee!!!!!! Too late I spotted it gimme!!!!

....Vargas....We are both 30....we are both 174 cm....and both french....I am so scarred....

I just saw the tiny space... I was like...omg let me fit ....like cat meme..... *move crooow* I love that they also added the Ghost!!! In Wasteland all those ghosts have a very important place and they even got names.... but maybe that's some spoiler.... Let's wait!!!

See you little ones very very soon!!!

I'll be back with a little surprise game for you!!

Also all the feedback and thank you for your kindness...omg you're so sweet~

Also yes...

I got the french translated manga of Heartslabyul with the artbook!!

I am glad my country has such connexion and interest (since a while by now I wasn't even born...haha) with Japan !! We can have such things here !!

Thank you french team twst !!

#twisted wonderland #twst #4th twst anniversary #twst staff #time flies soon it'll be spring #take care of you #enjoy every little crumb which make you happy

[clowningaroundmars]

punkflower hcs bc i need to see more of them being cute teen boys together.... like, playful and creative and stuff

looong long wall of text under the cut (no nsfw)

♡ miles and hobie definitely exchange art often, even collabing on some punk zines and graffiti pieces occasionally. hobie also makes mixtapes on cassettes and slaps a million stickers on them just for his bf. miles appreciates the kind gesture but reminds hobie that he doesnt have a cassette player. "yet," hobie tells him with a wink :)

♡ miles draws a million little doodles for hobie on scrap paper, post it notes, hobie's gear, hobie himself. ofc hobie loves them all, esp when he gets to go home with his arms and chest covered in stars, cartoons, graffiti, and hearts

♡ miles is a lot more shy about dancing in public than hobie is, but whenever they manage to have any downtime at all hobie will wrap his arms around miles and sway them around. if music is playing anywhere, hobie will bop to it and get miles to join in

♡ hobie's love language? touch. any kind, anytime, anywhere, for any reason. words of affirmation come next

♡ miles' love language? quality time, and he's big on kissing. hobie isnt much of a kisser but loves his sunflower just the same, and does not complain at all when miles places little kisses on his hands, ears or his back

♡ sometimes hobie will be a lil mean to miles just as a flirty thing. just usual teenage boy stuff like kicking miles' sneakers, manspreading to get into his space if they're sitting anywhere together, using his height to bully miles into a corner away from everyone so they can flirt some more, crashing into miles on purpose just to be annoying

♡ anytime they get to go on multiverse missions together they somehow manage to get into the craziest shenanigans. breaking into a zoo to stop a villain from mutating the animals, saving a group of schoolkids on a field trip from a killer robot (?), one time hobie even drove a runaway car to stop it from crashing right into jamaica bay and miles was scarred for life

hobie tries to control the car as he haphazardly swerves it around pedestrians and barely manages to miss a group of elderly people.

miles clings onto his seat for dear life. "HOBIE!! you're gonna kill us man, where'd you get your license from!?" he yells.

hobie scoffs. "license?! i said i could drive, mate, i aint mention nuthin' 'bout no license!"

♡ hobie's universe is set in the 1970's and living in a dystopian police-state means it's too risky to bring back a phone with him, so he's often left out of spiderkid groupchats. miles still tries to keep him up to date on the latest memes and inside jokes though. they also have their own inside jokes too

♡ hobie wouldn't bring a smartphone with him anyways since he's so mistrusting of tech in general. video games, laptops, and "smart" tech mystify him, and smart watches? forget about it. when miles gets one for christmas one time, hobie clowned on his bf so hard the watch was never seen again

♡ that being said, they love exchanging music often so the only piece of technology hobie ever brings back to his dimension is an ancient half-busted ipod (it was probably rio's at one point) filled with music miles managed to download for him that week. spiderman-ing and living as a homeless teen means hobie doesn't get much time to explore genres outside of the UK punk scene and listening to brand new genres is often a trip! hobie finds out he loves drum n bass, grindcore, industrial techno, UK drill, deep house and 90's hip hop

♡ hobie gets miles to make him cool posters for whatever venue he plans on (or doesnt plan lbr) playing at every now and then

♡ rio LOVES hobie. hobie is the perfect gentleman (gentlespider?) around her and often tries to help her around the house when he can. miles... does not enjoy how much his mom favors his partner. jeff is also not so crazy about this smart-mouthed punk

♡ miles and hobie absolutely swap clothing as often as possible, with hobie "borrowing" miles' clothes more often. miles' parents keep commenting on how much of a rockero he looks with all the punk stuff and hobie never returns clothes without having altered them in some way (pins n bits everywhere, a mysterious rip or two here n there, pinned-up sleeves, etc)

♡ miles is absolutely horrible at cooking and feels left out when he sees hobie helping his mom in the kitchen. he desperately tries to learn, but it's a wonder how he hasnt sliced his fingers off yet trying to peel and cut platanos so they can make tostones

♡ for a person who's built like a lamppost, hobie is shockingly graceful with his movements. he always slips around a room like a cat and miles is so jealous of that. long gangly limbs should be a deterrent from moving like That and yet here he is, practically pirouetting around miles for fun

♡ which is a total TRIP when they go out swinging around a city. once the mask is on, every movement hobie makes is chaotic, frantic and unpredictable. spiderpunk and hobie are very different people sometimes

♡ rio often points out hobie's thinness as a typical hispanic mom does ("jóven, pero tu 'ta tan flaco, hobie honey come eat! i have leftovers here!") and miles also agrees that hobie could eat a lil more too. he is always sneaking bits of food into hobie's pockets or bags, saving fries and last slices for his partner. sometimes hobie brings home armfuls of tupperware filled with caribbean food back to his boat

♡ in return, hobie is like a magpie and brings back shiny gifts for them, some handmade stuff too. miles' drawers and nightstand are filled with jewelry, bottles, knickknacks, and other handmade accessories. his walls are filled with collages and zines hobie makes for him and rio bought frames for some of the pieces he makes her

♡ the first person to say "i love you" was miles, but by accident. after realizing it, he was nervous as hell worrying that hobie would clown him to death since he didnt seem like a big romantic. instead, hobie went nuts about it in his own hobie way, writing lyrics about miles' face when he said it, doodling them together more often, teasing miles about it often but lightheartedly. he flaunts miles' love whenever he can

♡ miles has a lethal puppydog face and he KNOWS it! one 🥺 look and hobie immediately folds and gives miles whatever he wants. but not before hemming and hawing about it first, playing up his hesitation just to make miles laugh

♡ speaking of laughter, hobie does Thee Most just to see his bf laugh or smile. he will always goof off in the bg, crack jokes every 2 secs and pretend to get hurt sometimes. hobie is naturally sarcastic and goofs off in general anyways but around miles he dials it up to 200

♡ hobie tries to get miles in on the whole anarchism thing but 1. the texts and manifestos from his dimension are different than miles' and 2. miles is a teen boy. he doesn't know anything about the theory of alienation or effective mutual aid and won't really care at the moment. "mm, you'll learn all 'bout it soon enough, though... eventually," hobie muses

♡ miles is not as big on pet names as hobie is. hobie has like 24984 nicknames for miles but miles mostly sticks to just calling his partner by his name. one day during history class tho a lightbulb moment happens, and when they meet up again miles is excited

"hobie!! guess what, i really got it this time. i have a nickname that i know you're gonna love!"

"spill," hobie says as he throws an arm over miles' shoulders.

"so you always call me sunflower all the time, right? and your name is ho... bee. get it? so i was thinkin' i'm gonna call you 'honey bee' now. y'know, you're not the only one who's got corny ass nicknames! it's good, right?"

hobie has to fight not to grin like a jackass

♡ hobie's sleep schedule is atrocious so whenever miles can manage it, he tries to wrestle his partner into any bed and tucks him in. hobie is touched that his sunflower cares so much about him ♡

♡ miles almost never gets permission to sleep over other friends' houses but on the rare occasions he does, he leaps into portals and goes to visit hobie in his dimension. his fave part of New London is hobie's boat, bc they set up a big hammock for them to lay in, feeling the sway of the boat and letting it lull them to sleep. not to mention that the boat itself is totally badass, and hobie more often than not encourages miles to cover it in graffiti

♡ hobie lowkey (but highkey) loves when miles gets a little bossy, forceful or stern. he loves ribbing miles about it (the "ill do it, but not cuz you told me to" line in mumbattan was a total joke from hobie btw LOL) and saying corny shit in response to a demand, but he loves seeing miles being confident and calling the shots every once in a while. it makes him proud

♡ if they can, miles and hobie try to gather up as much food as they can and take it over to the F.E.A.S.T. that's in hobie's dimension. miles meets hobie's "family" there and gets to know the community, which feels so much more tight-knit and welcoming than Visions. once miles gets over the major jarring differences between his world and hobie's, he finds he LOVES New London

♡ miles and hobie teach each other slang from their countries and time periods, you can't change my mind. miles walks around saying shit like "bloody 'ell" and "septic" all the time. the one time hobie said "deadass" completely unironically, all of the spiderkids DIED laughing

♡ miles learns that EVERY spider is a total dweeb in some way shape or form. even hobie! hobie's awkwardness comes out when theyre in big groups of people. hobie is oddly comfy with performing in front of crowds but when he's invited to parties and tries mingling, it's so... sooo awkward. miles secretly rejoices when he finds out hobie's weakness

♡ i'm an adhd hobie truther and i hc that miles buys hobie the weirdest fidget toys he can get his hands on. along with his switchblade, jewelry, and whatever he stole that day, hobie carries various different fidget toys in his vest to keep boredom at bay

♡ hobie definitely writes songs for miles but takes a very very very long time to actually admit it. miles finally finds out when one of hobie's songwriting notebooks falls open when hanging out in his boat, and hobie comes clean about it. with miles' encouragement tho, hobie makes the decision to add some of those songs into the usual setlist his band performs

♡ if miles ever has time, he tries to attend whatever gig hobie and his band has going on. he loves to see hobie perform on stage, his energy and stage presence is always electrifying

#mine #across the spiderverse #punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #stupid ass tumblr posted my 1st draft completely randomly while i was in the middle of writing this #so uh if theres any mistakes its cuz i had to rewrite ALLLL of this in my notes app #hope yall enjoy tho ♡ #i am relatively new to this fandom.... kinda? well specifically punkflower #so if these hcs are basically fanon i wouldn't know lol i just skimmed the tag on tumblr recently #im going purely off of Vibes and movie/comic canon #ive seen some good takes in the tags as well and those inspired me too!! #so ye hehehe #these 2 are giving me brainworms my god i havent even written hcs for my other OTP #i should.... probably get started on that since i kinda had fun writing this! #and uh if theres mistakes you noticed at all i also wrote most of these while.... zooted as well. so. yeah lol #spiderverse

[milfgyuu]

i owe yall a very delicious mingyu 90’s fic in the next 48 hours. it’s a collab piece so that’s a guarantee 😂

#putting that ‘adhd girl hits deadline and powers thru to meet expectations’ super power to use #lana writes #svt fanfic #mingyu fanfic

[marvelous-llama]

NCT recs

<<original book

most of the mentioned works is 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI

pls don´t hesitate to hmu, if any of mentioned links doesn´t work or you have suggestions for more fics... thank you so much for all the love and comments

Temptation by @lisired

buwan ng wika by @maknaesdancersrappers

RUNNING AWAY AFTER CONFESSING TO THEM by @ruwriteshours (NCT Dream)

Apply Within by @iced-nct (NCT Dream)

Frat House series by @shwazzberryswriting

ISTJ by @lowkeyjaemle (NCT Dream)

diary of the heartbreakers by @ryozaki21 (00´ line)

simplify romance by @rrxnjun (00´ line)

Let me Love you by @key201303 (WayV)

Frat House by @crdteezv (WayV)

mad city by @misted-dream

90´s love franchise by @mayaflowerxs (90´s Love)

the heart is the goal by @doderyscoffee (NCT Dream)

Crimson Aurora Hotel & Spa collab by @myeoning-call

The Virgin Diaries by @jenonctcity (NCT Dream 00´s line)

#nct recs #nct 127 recs #nct dream recs #wayv recs #nct wish recs #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv #nct wish #nct u #nct x reader #nct smut #nct taeil #nct johnny #nct taeyong #nakamoto yuta #nct kun #nct doyoung #nct ten #jaehyun #nct winwin #nct jungwoo #nct mark #nct xiaojun #nct hendery #nct renjun #nct jeno #nct haechan #nct jaemin

[hobeemin]

stop, kiss

🛍️ genre(s): romance, angst, drama, fluff, college au, 90s au (based on Can’t Hardly Wait)

🛍️ pairing: joshua hong x poc (f) reader

🛍️ summary: joshua wasn’t what you called popular back in high school, in fact, he was practically invisible. what happens when he runs into his childhood crush in college after growing into his looks? awhole lot of shenanigans ensue.

🛍️ rating: pg15

🛍️ warning(s): swearing, frat parties, drinking, bullying, fights

🛍️ word count: 5.6k

🛍️ credits: shout out to @wooahaeproductions​ thank you maren for looking this over at the last minute! 💜💜💜

banner resources found here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

🛍️ a/n: this is for the Now thats 90s SVT collab. Huge thanks to @beomcoups and @mingiblr 

“This is it.”

Jeonghan side-eyed his friend as they walked across the grassy quad. “What are you going on about?”

Joshua swept his arms in a comprehensive motion. “This. College. It’s the start of our lives.”

“But that’s what you said when we were freshmen in high school.”

Joshua’s arms dropped as red crept up his cheeks. “Okay, but this is gonna be different. This is us being adults. Conquering obstacles–”

“Joshua–”

“–reaching goals–”

“Joshua–”

“–going the distance–”

Jeonghan closed his eyes as Joshua ran straight into a bench and flipped over, landing on his back. Instantly, the quad filled with laughter. He groaned as his vision filled with stars, trying to get his bearings. It wasn’t until a face appeared that his senses came back.

Was she an angel?

He blinked once. Then twice.

The worry on her face was replaced with relief when she noticed he was alert.

“Oh, good. You’re okay.”

“I think so,” he mumbled, trying to stand.

“Maybe we should wait for the paramedics to get here,” she mused.

Jeonghan nodded in agreement. “Someone’s calling for them right now.”

“Seriously. I’m okay!” A smile spread across his face as he began to rise. It faltered quickly as his legs wobbled.

Jeonghan grabbed his arm, guiding him to the bench.

“Sit. Now.”

“Yes, please do,” she said in agreement.

The paramedics arrived quickly, getting to work on assessing his injuries.

Honestly, he was okay. His head hurt a bit, but they were fussing over nothing. He didn’t need any more embarrassment on his first day as a college freshman. Jeonghan gave her a polite smile.

“Thanks for helping. He’s a little stubborn, but I know he appreciates it.”

“It’s alright. I’m just happy to know he’s okay,” she said with a smile.

“Y/N!”

She looked up at the sound of her name. A group of people were waving to her. She put her hand up and turned to Jeonghan.

“I have to go, but it was nice talking to you. I hope your friend feels better!”

Joshua heard the name from the stretcher, and realization crossed his face slowly. “Jeonghan!”

His friend ran over to him. “What?!”

“Was that Y/N?! As in Y/N Y/L/N?!”

“Uh, that’s a stretch. I mean, there’s a lot of Y/Ns–”

“No…I’m sure of it. That was her!”

“Joshua–”

“Humor me. What if that was her? It’s fate! We were meant to meet once more. It’s destiny–Ow!”

The stretcher dropped, making him bump his head against the bar. Jeonghan shook his head in disbelief. 

“This is gonna be a long year.”

---

With Jeonghan in tow, Joshua walked into the student center, looking around. By then, a few months had passed, and everyone had forgotten about his blunder on the first day of class. He thought it best to keep a low profile during the semester.

Joshua was always hopeful of running into Y/N on campus. Occasionally, he’d see her walking around, but every time he tried to speak up, he got tongue-tied, or a group of people would surround her. It seemed like he’d never get a chance.

One breezy fall afternoon, Joshua sat against a large oak tree, strumming his guitar. Jeonghan joined him moments later, dropping down next to him with a plastic bag. Reaching in, he took out some snacks, crunching on some chips while Joshua played. He hummed a few bars before taking out a small notebook. Jeonghan noticed a worn folded piece of paper fall out and scooped it up. 

“What’s this?”

Joshua yelped, trying to reach for it, but Jeonghan pulled it out of reach. With a grin, he opened it up and read the contents. His eyes widened as he turned to his friend.

“I can’t believe you still have that letter.”

His face warmed as he snatched it away, stuffing it into his pocket. “It’s not that serious, Jeonghan.”

“Oh, is it not? Cause keeping a letter you wrote countless times back in high school to a girl who didn’t know you existed is pretty strange.”

Joshua rolled his eyes before returning to his guitar, strumming the strings absentmindedly. Was he being delusional at this point? Should he just give up on his crush?

“Maybe I’ll give up. It’s stupid,” he mumbled.

Jeonghan frowned slightly, noting how Joshua’s mood had darkened. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to be down.

Joshua returned his guitar to its case and stood up. Jeonghan looked at him curiously. “You got class?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m done for the day. I might go back to the dorm to study. I’ll see you later.”

He waved before walking off, leaving Jeonghan alone. Leaning against the tree, he sighed heavily. He had to get Joshua out of this funk somehow. 

But what to do?

Something fluttered in the corner of his eye. It was the letter from Joshua’s pocket!

An idea began to form in his mind, making him chuckle. 

Yep, this might work after all.

---

Y/N sat there toying with the straw from her milkshake, bored and only half listening to the conversation around the table. Honestly, did they have anything worth talking about? There had to be more to life than when the next party would be or how many kegs they could drink. Still, she humored her friends, offering a laugh now and then.

“Right, Y/N?”

She blinked, looking up from her milkshake. “Huh?”

Her friend Irene rolled her eyes before sipping her diet Pepsi. “Were you even listening?”

She shook her head as a groan surrounded the table. She shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

Irene sighed heavily. “The party—the one the Sigma Lambdas have every fall for Halloween—is happening this Friday.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, distracted once more. “Oh, yeah. I guess I’ll come.”

“We have no choice. Plus, Mingyu is gonna be there,” Irene added.

Y/N’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “And I would care because…”

“Jeez, Y/N, get with the program. Your boyfriend is gonna be there .”

“Correction, ex-boyfriend, and that makes it all the more reason not to go.”

Irene let out a noise of exasperation. “I don’t get you sometimes. If anything, this is the perfect opportunity to go and prove you don’t need him.”

“Whatever. We’ll see how I feel,” Y/N grumbled.

It wasn’t like her friends would listen anyway. She dated Mingyu all through high school. Meeting him on her first day, they became the ‘it’ couple and were at the hip. While they seemed like the quintessential high school romance, Mingyu was relatively immature in many ways. It was too much their senior year, and Y/N called it quits. He took it so well, insulting her intelligence and saying she’d regret it, but that only solidified her decision.

Of course, this was after they promised to go to the same university together, and now she was stuck with him for another four years.

Again, she ignored her friends' discussions and stared out the window, sipping her milkshake. When three fraternity brothers from Sigma Lambda Theta walked into the cafe and approached their table, Y/N and her friends looked up with interest.

“Heard you ladies were coming to our party,” one said.

Irene nodded. “Yeah, wouldn’t miss it. Heard y’all have a lot planned.”

Seungcheol eyed Y/N curiously, nudging Soonyoung. He pointed his chin towards her. “You’re Y/N?”

Her brow lifted in interest. “I am. And you’re Seungcheol?”

“Heard a lot about you.”

“Is that a fact?” she chuckled, sipping her milkshake. “Can’t always believe what you hear.”

Seungcheol smirked with a nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Soonyoung grinned. “Don’t forget to wear your best costume. Masks included.”

“What are you going as?” Y/N inquired.

The shorter of the three shook his head, rolling his eyes. “Please don’t get him started. He hasn’t shut up about it all month.”

“Jihoon, lighten up. You’re just jealous.”

“Sure.”

Seungcheol cleared his throat, shooting the girls a smile. “Anyway. Gonna be a great time,” he shot Y/N a look. “Save me a dance?”

Y/N shrugged with a laugh. “Maybe. I like to keep my options open.”

“Sounds good to me. See y’all later.”

As the guys walked away, a glint flashed in Irene’s eye.

“What do you think about them, Y/N?”

“Them? Them who?”

Irene frowned once more, shaking her head in disappointment. “You acting clueless? The Sigma Lambdas! Isn’t Mingyu trying to pledge? Wouldn’t showing up with the frat's president as your date be funny?”

Y/N sighed in exasperation. “I’m really not trying to date right now. I’d rather focus on my studies–”

“All I hear is blah, blah, blah.”

“What do you want me to say? It’s not the end of the world. I mean, they are cute, but–” she argued.

“Whatever Y/N. If you want to be alone, that's fine, too.”

“Life isn’t always about having a boyfriend, Irene.”

“You worry about what you do, and I’ll worry about me,” Irene retorted.

Y/N stood up from the table, nearly knocking down the drinks. “I guess friendship isn’t the biggest priority either.”

Without another word, she stormed off, leaving the rest of them alone in the cafe.

---

The next few days passed without much drama. Even though Y/N and Irene made up, there was still some tension between them, regardless of their saying everything was okay. So many things ran through her mind that her concentration was off in class. Only one day after one of her lectures, the professor called her up as the class was leaving for her to notice.

Y/N slung one strap over her shoulder, gathered her books, and approached her professor’s desk.

“Yes, Professor?”

He pulled up a file, flipping through the papers. “I normally wouldn’t say anything, but you’ve been doing so well in class, Miss Y/L/N. Is everything alright?”

Damn it. 

She nodded her head, trying to smile. “Of course. Maybe I'm just a little burnt out this semester with my credits, but I’m okay.”

He sighed, handing over a folder to her. “I’m going to give you a chance to work on this research paper again. I know you can do better than this. I’ll accept it next Friday.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

Slipping the folder into her bag, she walked out of the classroom, her thoughts swirling. It wasn't until the last minute that she bumped into Joshua coming out of the building. She jumped with a start as her books fell to the ground. Joshua blinked, staring at her before scrambling to pick the books.

“Are you okay?”

She willed herself to smile, taking the books from him. “We have to stop meeting like this. How’s that bump on your head?”

Joshua sheepishly grinned as he rubbed the spot. 

“I'm never gonna live that down, but I'm alright.”

Now that she was in front of him, he was too nervous to speak. Did she even recognize him from high school?

Clearing his throat, he tapped her shoulder politely. Y/N turned to look at him curiously. 

“Yes?”

“Your name wouldn't happen to be Y/N Y/L/N, right?”

Her brow quirked. “Um, yes. Why do you ask?”

“Well

“Y/N!!!!”

She looked past Joshua with a frown. 

Mingyu was walking towards her with Seungcheol. His smile faltered as he saw Joshua standing next to her. “No fucking way…Bambi goes here!”

Joshua’s face paled upon hearing that name. Of all the people who had shown up here at this very moment…Mingyu had managed to graduate and get into a university?! 

His knees buckled as Mingyu’s hand slammed into his back in greeting. Joshua had to hold the wall to keep from dropping to the floor. Y/N’s eyes glanced from him to Mingyu in confusion.

“Bambi?”

Mingyu rolled his eyes with a laugh, nudging Seungcheol. “Dude always looked like a deer in headlights, especially when he was our mascot and got tackled.”

Seungcheol started to chuckle as Joshua attempted to back away slowly. Mingyu grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into a headlock, giving him a noogie. Joshua grunted, trying to loosen his grip.

“So what you doin’ talking to my girlfriend, Bambi?”

Y/N scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “Ex-girlfriend, Mingyu. And let him go, please. Let’s be adults.”

A pout formed on his face as he let Joshua go reluctantly. “Seriously? Y/N–”

“Save it,” she snapped. Her expression softened as she took Joshua’s hand into hers. “Walk me back to my dorm?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “U-Um s-sure!”

“You’re sweet.”

She smiled, barely acknowledging Mingyu and Seungcheol, as she walked out of the building with Joshua in tow, still dazed by the unfolding events.

Mingyu’s eyes narrowed, watching the pair walk off.

“That geek is gonna pay,” he mumbled, storming out of the building.

---

Joshua hardly touched his drink as Y/N placed it before him. She removed the wrapper around her straw and stuck it in her milkshake. Her brow quirked in interest.

“Sooo. You went to our high school?”

Joshua finally grabbed his cup and took a generous sip. “Uh huh.”

Her lips turned downward, trying to recall his face. “I don’t know why I can’t remember you.”

He shrugged, trying to shake his disappointment. “I-It’s not like you would have noticed. We didn’t run in the same circles.”

Something about that statement made her stomach drop. Sure, she’d been what you’d consider popular, but Y/N was pleasant with everyone she came across.

“What were you into back then?”

Joshua sat back as the tension slowly drifted from his shoulders. “Band, mostly marching and pep. I was in the film club and tried out for the soccer team, but…yeah.”

Y/N nodded in understanding. “You seemed to have a lot of interests. I’m surprised we didn’t run into each other.”

“Well, Y/N, we have been in the same classes since freshmen year.”

Her cheeks felt hot, and Joshua fumbled as he tried to change the subject. “I-I’m not saying it like it’s a bad thing. It’s just how life happens. Our school was big, so it’s okay.”

The relief passed her face. The last thing she wanted was for someone to recall her being self-absorbed. 

A smile formed on her lips, which he returned wholeheartedly. “Well, it’s time for new beginnings.”

“Agreed.”

After a brief silence, she looked at him and asked, “Are you good with music theory?”

His brows lifted as he nodded. “Oh yeah! I took those in high school! Do you have any questions about it?”

“Do I?” she said with a laugh. Y/N pulled out her research paper and handed it to him. “I got an extension to write a better one.”

He flipped through the pages with a hum. “I see. Do you want help? I’d be happy to give some insight.”

Y/N beamed at him. “I’d owe you a huge one!”

Joshua smiled. “That’s not necessary. How about we meet Friday night at the library to discuss the details.”

Realization dawned on her as her smile faltered. Joshua’s brows knitted.

“Is something wrong?”

“N-No, it’s just there’s this party on Friday–”

“Oh. Well, you should go.”

She sighed, falling back against the booth cushion. “That’s the problem. I really don’t want to.”

“So don’t go,” he reasoned.

“It’s not that simple–”

“It kind of is. Don’t force yourself into things just because your friends want to,” he interrupted. His eyes widened again, and red crept onto his face.

“I-I’m sorry. That wasn’t my place to say.”

Y/N let out a genuine laugh for the first time in weeks. “Honestly, that was the most honest response I’ve gotten. People always try to hide the truth.”

“Some people suck,” he said matter-of-factly.

She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Why don’t you come to the party?”

“M-Me?”

“Why not? It definitely would make my night better,” she exclaimed.

He looked at her in astonishment. Y/N sipped her milkshake, trying to cover up her bashfulness. “I mean…the more the merrier, ya know.”

“I’ll see what's going on that day,” he decided. He was not ecstatic about the invitation but didn't want to get his hopes up. Being near her was almost enough for him.

“Okay,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment.

They returned to idle chatter the rest of the time, realizing they had much more in common than each had known. He eventually said his goodbyes, promising to give her the paper back after he made any edits. Walking back to his dorm, he thought about their time together. Y/N was amazing in so many ways. Joshua would have fallen even deeper in love with her if he hadn’t already fallen madly in love.

He stopped in his tracks.

Love?

Shaking his head, he unlocked the door with a scoff. What did he know about love?

The letter.

Damn it.

That letter.

Groaning to himself, he walked inside to Jeonghan, who was reading at his desk. Jeonghan looked up from his book at his friend's expression. 

“You alright?”

Still in a daze, Joshua plopped on his bed, blinking. “Y-Yeah.”

Jeonghan hummed, going back to his book until Joshua spoke up.

“I spent time with her.”

“Her?”

“Y/N.”

Jeonghan placed his book down and faced Joshua with interest. “What? What happened?”

Joshua recalled the events the best he could, grimacing at the part when Mingyu appeared and his conflicting feelings about the party.

Jeonghan let it all sink in before talking. 

“Well, now you gotta go to the frat party.”

“Yeah, but Mingyu’s gonna be there.”

“So? Y/N personally invited you. It seems she wants you there, and that’s enough. Who cares what everyone will say? We’ll have fun, you’ll see.”

Joshua sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling. He was taking a chance. This could be the start of something great or crash and burn in utter disaster.

Time to take a gamble.

---

When Y/N and her friends arrived, the party was in full swing. She watched as people ran around the house throwing balloons filled with water. Irene screeched, jumping in place as one splashed by her feet, nearly getting her costume wet.

“Watch it!”

Irene let out a sound of exasperation. “Do I look okay?”

Y/N fought to roll her eyes. 

“You look fine.”

Irene beamed as she twirled in the black, red, and white plaid two-piece. She adjusted the hat on her head. “We’re gonna be the popular people here. Clueless was a hit!”

Y/N adjusted the skirt on hers. She would have instead gone as Dionne, but Irene insisted she be the Cher. Arguing would have been fruitless if she wanted any attention on her, so Y/N just went with the flow. Heads indeed turned as they walked by. Seungcheol appeared out of nowhere, clearly red-faced from the alcohol. 

“You made it!”

Y/N held back the eye roll from Irene’s giggles.

Seungcheol gestured to them with the beer can in his hand. “You’ll be the girls from that movie, right?”

“Like totally!”

He grinned, setting his gaze on Y/N. “Would you like something to drink Y/N?”

Irene pushed past; a Cheshire grin spread wide. “We’d love something to drink.”

He chuckled, watching Y/N’s reaction. Y/N held back the eye roll, threatening to appear.

 “C’mon, I’ll show you where the drinks are.”

They followed Seungcheol into the kitchen. The entire counter was covered in various drinks, from malt beverages to cheap vodka, anything to get someone entirely buzzed. Mingyu stood near a silver basin, stirring the bright red liquid. He looked up, making eye contact with Y/N as he waved. Grabbing a few cups, he poured the liquid in, adding some pineapples, strawberries, and oranges. 

Y/N stared at the cup in scrutiny as Irene happily sipped on hers. 

“This is so good! What is it?”

Mingyu tapped his glass against Seungcheol’s. “We call it carat juice.”

 Y/N’s brow raised, giving him a deadpan stare. “Wow, so clever.”

“I thought so,” Mingyu answered with a smug look.

She sighed heavily, looking around for anything to get her away. 

“Just enjoy yourself tonight, Y/N. It’s the least you can do. You’re being so uptight,” Irene taunted.

What the hell was wrong with her? Irene had been doing too much lately, and Y/N was letting her ‘friend’s’ words get to her.

“Fine.”

She chugged the drink back, trying not to cough at the alcohol burning down her throat regardless of the sweetness in the cup. She wiped her mouth off and ran towards the dance floor. Maybe sweating for a few hours would help make her numb to the whole thing.

Joshua and Jeonghan walked inside, looking around at the scenery. Very few people were wearing original costumes. Most were dressed in bedsheets as ghosts or togas.

“You sure we got the right costume?”

Jeonghan shot Joshua a look. “No one else is gonna have it.”

Suddenly, someone shouted from across the room, " I'm a dude. He’s a dude. She’s a dude. So we’re all dudes!”

A snort passed Joshua’s lips, and he waved, giving a thumbs up. Jeonghan gave him a smug look. “See?”

“Fine. This was the way to go.”

He adjusted the paper hat on his head before smoothing the striped blue and white shirt. Okay. So maybe Jeonghan's idea of being a Good Burger employee wasn’t a bad idea after all. As he got more comfortable in his skin, he opened up more to talk with the people at the party.

“Oh, you play the guitar?”

Joshua nodded as he sipped his drink. The guy slapped his back, causing his knees to buckle. “We always have a jam session in the quad in the afternoon. You should join us.”

“BAMBI!”

Joshua let out an audible groan. 

Shit.

Mingyu pushed through; cheeks reddened from the alcohol. Joshua tried not to recoil from the smell of his breath. Wrapping his arm around Joshua, he waved his cup, slooshing the liquid all over the floor. 

“Didn’t think you’d show up,” he slurred.

Joshua removed his arm, sidestepping away from him. “Uh. Yeah. I was invited.”

“Who’d invite you?”

“I did.”

Both men looked up as Y/N appeared, the growing crowd parting for her to pass. Joshua felt his heart still as she smiled at him. 

“I’m happy you made it, Joshua,” she said.

“T-Thanks,” he gushed out.

Y/N gave him a nod of approval. “I like your costume.”

“I like yours too,” he said with a grin.

Feeling neglected, Mingyu glanced between the two, not liking how the conversation was going. He managed to get Seungcheol’s attention. Both men nodded, and devious grins appeared. 

Y/N smiled at Joshua, cocking her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Wanna get a drink? There’s this jungle juice–”

Red liquid splashed over Joshua, covering him from head to toe. Laughter erupted around the room. Y/N looked shocked as Mingyu and Seongcheol bent over, shaking with laughter. The empty red cups were enough evidence for her.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Mingyu snorted back a laugh, trying to look serious. “What? It was just a joke.”

Y/N shot Joshua with a sympathetic look as Jeonghan appeared, handing him a crumple of paper towels. Joshua tried to wipe off the liquid in vain, feeling the stickiness cover his skin. Trying to keep his cool, he walked up, heading up the stairs without a word. Y/N snarled as she punched Mingyu in the arm with a hiss. “You’re such an asshole, Mingyu!”

He shrugged, giving Seungcheol a fist bump. “Eh, what else is new.”

Shaking her head in disgust, she stormed off as everyone watched in awe. 

Joshua found himself in a bathroom upstairs, trying to avoid getting the stain out of his shirt. Luckily, he ran into Woozi, who you called Jihoon before. That frat member was kind enough to tell him about the bathroom away from the crowd while he got himself together.

“Remember not to close the door all the way. The knob sticks.”

He threw the towel into the sink. It was useless—both the stain and possibly talking to Y/N.

“Maybe it’s just not meant to be,” he mumbled to his reflection. He couldn’t go back out there. It didn't look like that. He sighed heavily and sat on the toilet seat, a dark cloud hovering over him.

Jeonghan found Y/N quickly. She sat outside, away from the smokers, attempting to get some fresh air. He stepped closer until she noticed him standing near her.

“Hi. You’re Y/N, right?”

She looked up, guarded at first, as her brow quirked. 

“Do I know you?”

Jeonghan stepped back, giving her some space. “I'm sorry. I’m Joshua's friend. You probably don't remember me, but we went to the same high school.”

“Oh,” she gave him a small smile. “Sorry, it’s just been kind of crazy tonight. What’s your name again?”

“Jeonghan,” he answered. “Listen, have you seen him? I’ve been looking for him for a while.”

“No, I was just about to go look myself.”

“He can’t be too far off. This house isn’t that big. Wanna help me find him?”

She nodded as he gave her room to walk. Just as Jeonghan turned, something fell from his pocket. Y/N paused, seeing the envelope with her name on it. She picked it up, twirling it between her hands. 

“Jeonghan?”

“Hmm?”

She held up the envelope before his eyes. “Why do you have something with my name on it?”

Oh shit.

Jeonghan shrugged, letting out a scoff. “I didn’t drop that.”

Y/N crossed her hands over her chest, tapping her platform boots on the deck. “Oh really? So this just magically appeared before you?”

“Yep.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep.”

Her eyes narrowed, looking it over. “Well then, it’s no big deal if I open it, right?”

“Yep–wait! No!”

Jeonghan lunged forward, tripping as he tried to grab the letter. Y/N pulled it out of reach with a smug look.

“So obviously, this means a lot to you, but it has my name on it.”

“D-Don’t read it! It’s not mine to give!”

She stared at him, waving it in front of his face. “Then who did?”

Jeonghan dropped his head in defeat. “It was Joshua,” he mumbled.

“What was that?”

“It was Joshua…he wrote it.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. Suddenly, the envelope felt heavier than usual. Should she open it? Something was always there in the few times she ran into Joshua. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she felt so much at ease in the little time she spent around him. It wasn’t like with her friends. She didn’t need to put on an act.

“Should I open it?”

Jeonghan wiped off the dirt from his costume as he stood up. “Honestly, it’s up to you, but whatever you decide involves you and Josh.”

Biting her lip, she glanced from Jeonghan to the envelope before sliding her finger under the flap. The notebook paper was stained with age, and the creases were deep from constant folding. The black ink was partially smeared on the paper as the words looped along the lines.

Her eyes scanned the words, silently reading them to herself. Jeonghan watched the emotions change on her face with interest. What could she be thinking? Y/N cleared her throat as she folded the paper and placed it in her pocket.

“Excuse me.”

She ran off back inside the house. Jeonghan secretly patted himself on the back.

Joshua, you owe me.

Y/N ran up the stairs, looking for anyone familiar. Towards the end of the hall, a door was propped open. She knocked on it gently, waiting for an answer. When none came, she stepped in to see Joshua leaning against the window, eyes closed. 

“Joshua?”

His eyes fluttered open as his head turned toward his name. His jaw dropped when he saw her standing in front of him.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah. Are you okay?”

“Uh–”

Y/N started to close the door, looking at him with concern. “Are you sure? 

“Wait!”

Y/N jumped in surprise just as the door shut behind her. Joshua tried catching the knob to no avail. Groaning, he leaned against the counter.

Y/N violently shook the doorknob, but the stubborn door did not budge. She gave a few sharp knocks, pausing to listen for any voices.

Nothing.

Joshua shook his head in disappointment. “Told ya.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” she snapped, leaning on the door. 

Joshua scoffed as he stared at her in disbelief. “What’s your deal? It’s not my fault. I tried to warn you about it.” She sat against the sink with a defeated sigh, looking anywhere but at Joshua. But he didn’t warn her.

“So we’re stuck?”

“Yep. I doubt anyone will come this way. The party is loud enough they won’t hear the knocks or us.”

“Lovely,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

He glanced at her curiously. “Not to be rude, but what are you doing here?”

Y/N gave him a stern look. “Duh, looking for you.”

“Why?”

“Well–”

“Felt bad about your boyfriend spilling his drink on me?” 

She could hear the hurt in his voice. “He’s not my boyfriend, Joshua. You know that.”

“Do I? Wasn’t this some ploy to mock me?” His tone was accusatory. 

Y/N’s jaw dropped in shock. “What? No! Why on earth would you think that?”

He shrugged, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. “I don’t know. People suck.”

“You think I’m like them?”

Joshua met her gaze, seeing the sadness in her eyes. He was projecting, and he knew it. In frustration, he ran his hands through his hair. “No. No, I never thought that. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay. I understand. People do suck. Maybe I was like them before, but I don’t wanna be like them anymore.”

He nodded in understanding. “That’s mature of you.”

“Hardly.”

The quiet fell between them, with only the muffled sound of the music in the background. Y/N pulled the letter out of her pocket and opened it up.

“It may sound silly, but nothing else seemed to matter when you walked into my life. I spent so much time wondering how or when I’d speak to you. If I ever shared a space with you, I’d thank the stars for this opportunity.”

Joshua felt the blood drain from his face. She had his letter! How? Why?

“Y/N–”

A small smile appeared on her face as she put the letter away. “You wrote this when we were in high school?”

Instantly, the blood rushed to his face as he tried to hide his expression. “It…embarassing enough as is. I didn’t mean–”

Her lips pressed to his, stopping him midsentence. Joshua’s eyes widened in surprise, and his limbs stiffened. It took a few moments for his brain to catch up when he finally kissed her back, wrapped his hands around her waist, and pulled her close. His heart hammered loudly, and he swore he could hear hers, too. It seemed like hours passed before they broke apart. Y/N blinked a few times, trying to catch her breath.

“I never do that.” does he mean he never would have done that?

“D-Do you regret it?”

She shook her head with a laugh. “No. No, I don’t. You’re a great kisser.”

“As are you,” he answered with a smile.

“Joshua–”

The door to the bathroom crashed open, breaking them apart. Jeonghan, Seungcheol, and Mingyu stood in the doorway in shock. 

“Thank goodness Woozi said where you were.”

Mingyu stepped forward with a snarl, pointing at them.

“So what's this?”

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh. “What are you talking about, Mingyu?”

“You two together?”

“Why do you care? We’re not, so anything I do has nothing to do with you.”

His jaw clenched as he stepped towards her. Joshua pushed himself between them as Mingyu stared hard at him.

“Bambi, move.”

“Don’t call me that, Mingyu. You’re being an ass. Stop while you’re still ahead.”

Mingyu shoved Joshua, who staggered back. Y/N grabbed Mingyu’s arm. “What is wrong with you?! Have you lost your mind?”

Mingyu yanked his arm away as Y/N was pushed back. Jeonghan and Seungcheol tried to grab Mingyu when Joshua swung, his fist connecting with his cheek with a dull thud. Mingyu fell against Seungcheol with a groan. Jeonghan looked at each man in surprise. 

“Shit. Nice job, Joshua.”

He hissed, shaking his fist, and pushed past the group, walking away. Y/N placed her hand on Jeonghan’s arm. “I’ll go.”

It didn’t take long for her to catch up with him.

“Joshua,” she called.

He stopped walking and turned towards her. Looking down at the ground, he sighed. “Sorry. I just needed to get out of there. Are you okay?”

“I’m not glass. I’m pretty tough,” she answered with a smile.

He laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t doubt it.”

Y/N paused before speaking. “I like you, Joshua, before the letter. I was just too scared to say something,” she explained.

“And now?”

Y/N felt the warmth crept into her cheeks. “I think my kiss was proof enough.”

He took her hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I think we deserve to get ourselves some breakfast. What do you think?”

Y/N stood on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck. A grin appeared on her face. “Only if you’re treating.”

He chuckled, placing another soft kiss on her lips. “Deal.”

#kvanity #kwritersworldnet #joshua hong #joshua #seventeen #joshua x reader #seventeen x reader #joshua drama #joshua college au #joshua romance #seventeen drama #seventeen college au #seventeen romance

[wilted3sunflowers]

This is my Miku pokemon trainer tier list

For this tier list its both my favorites and what i consider a very good miku design

Of course all of them are good miku designs but some shine above the rest

S tier- my absolute favorites Bug miku is so classy, so well thought out, and i think the brown looks amazing with her teal. Shes everything A close tie with bug miku is Ice miku her hair is everything to me im in complete love with this sharp miku. Water Miku is basic but that's all she needs in lovely simplicity, truly feeling like Miku in this world as a water trainer especially with her tan lines from her original outfit it feels like this is her off time from being an idol! Steel Miku had my heart as soon as I saw her with Jirachi. Which was my favorite pokemon when I was a child [it was prior before i even had any pokemon games of my own and only watched the movies] The colors, the motif of star, the hat and the hair its all wonderful to me!

A tier- Amazingly done concepts and totally miku! Rock Miku's dress and veil is lovely, i love they incorporated the veil as mock pigtails. If this was the verison of her without the dress then she would have been in S tier. I love the jester look but thats my own personal preference. She also reminds me of diance with the dress.

Flying Miku is gorgeous, the wispy hair, the translucent areas to mimic clouds and mist. It's an amazing concept and wonderfully executed design! Fairy miku i know is everyones favorite and it's obvious to see why, shes adorable and cute and I too would love to draw her. She has that appeal to her down to a T. Fighting Miku is something i've been waiting for this whole time. Of course no way they could do a pokemon collab with miku and not include farfetch'd! It's a sleek and simple design that takes traits of the original miku's outfit and tweaks them. Though she does kind of remind me of maka from soul eater just a small bit.

B tier- Great concepts! Electric Miku's lightening pigtails are so cute she looks like a little adventure/farmer of currents. She stands on her own as a design and as a tie to miku. Poison type Miku i would have done the same doing mucky/slime twintails though i probably wouldn't have thought to use the new alolan muk which is a very good look and helps add in the colors. It's a great design and while i wouldve put her in A tier some of her design elements hold me off. This is a top tier character design though trust me Dark Miku, i love she came with obstagoon. Though at first i couldnt even tell if miku had pigtails in the artwork. This reminds me just of a nice miku for a cover of an existing song which is not bad it's just how it feels. Normal type miku has good colors, shes paired with an active singing pokemon and while it's simple I think it conveys miku well enough. Though she keeps reminding me of the oversaturated stereotype of early 90s fashion. now on Ghost miku, shes higher than i'd actually put her but for her concept and simplicity of staying to miku but as a glitched out ghost version of her i do have to give props to that even if i find it more on the plain side. I think they succeeded in what was necessary even though this portrays miku AS the ghost instead of just a ghost trainer. ....honestly now that i type my words i feel like i was right and shouldve stuck with her in C tier.

C tier- too basic for my tastes yet still well done Grass miku is cute and all but if you told me she was unrelated to miku, i could believe you. Just that it'd be a fandom joke to call her 'green miku'

Fire miku, reminds me all too much of the anniversary miku song and im sure thats where they got part of the insipration from it but it doesnt really do much for me combined with the fire aspect and how her hair is shaped. I know its to mimic the pokemon shes with its just personal taste on that one. The silhoutte is good.

Ground type miku i had to keep looking up because i forget what shes supposed to be numerous times. Same case with grass miku, i could see someone telling me shes from x thing and unrelated to miku. I'm just not a fan of the design and colors but it's well done. I know when something is just my subjective taste rather than poorly done.

Dragon miku while i'm not the biggest fan of all the cowlicks going down the twintails i know it's purpose is there to mimic the spiked tail of a traditional dragon and i wouldn't want them removed. I think i especially just don't like the tacked on half shawl cape it feels disjointed. Yet i find its a nice concept they did both an almost knight look for her as dragon as always with the concept of knights and dragons battling. Now the knight trainer is battling with the dragon as comrades.

Psychic type miku- i think they started with the least interesting and noteworthy one honestly. It just looks, kind of uninspired but thats rude to say. I know shes here to fufill the concept of miku as a trainer in pokemon and well it just looks like she's her own trainer class that'd have multiple running around looking the same instead of a stand out like a rival or a gym leader in game.

[wongyuseokie]

Ugh! As If! | w.j.h

Summary: Your boyfriend decided to take you into a drive-in movie for date night. Only problem? He looks scrumptious, and now your task is to ensure he knows just how good he looks without the others knowing.

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut |  ♥ completed works

Word Count: 1046 words

Pairings: Wen Junhui x Female Reader

Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Established Relationship, PWP. Fluff and smut Content Warnings: Mentions of food, car sex

Smut Warnings: Car sex. Unprotected sex (don’t do this irl), fingering, creampie. I think that’s it. Orgasms, and pretty tame stuff. 

Author's Note 1: This is written for the Now That's a 90s collab hosted by the lovely @beomcoups. Do check out the rest of the masterlist as the work is amazing!! Author's Note 2: Thank you so much to my lovely betas @gyupremacy and @here4kpopfics! I adore ya both dearly ❤️

© wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

As the sun begins its descent, you hear a familiar sound outside your window—a soft purring that announces Jun's arrival in his vintage convertible. As you finish your last-minute touches, your heart flutters with anticipation, adjusting your outfit in the mirror. You've opted for that 90s flair—high-waisted jeans paired with a cropped sweater and scrunchie adorning your hair.

Stepping outside, you see Jun leaning against the car, his grin widening as he sees you. He's gone all out, sporting a retro bomber jacket and faded jeans, completing the look with a pair of round sunglasses.

"Hey there, Y/N," he says, opening the car door for you with a flourish.

"Jun, you look so cute!" you exclaim, giggling as you slide into the passenger seat.

"Only the best for our Clueless date night," he replies, a playful glint in his eye.

The drive to the drive-in is accompanied by nostalgic tunes blasting from the car stereo, both of you singing along to the iconic hits of the era. Jun navigates the streets quickly, occasionally stealing glances at you, his warm and affectionate smile.

As you pull into the drive-in, rows of cars are already parked, and the atmosphere buzzes with excitement. Jun finds a prime spot near the back, ensuring an unobstructed view of the giant screen.

With the engine off and the night sky above, the air feels electric with anticipation. Jun reaches behind the seat, producing a basket filled with an assortment of snacks—popcorn, candies, and soda.

"Thought we might need some fuel for this cinematic adventure," he chuckles, handing you the popcorn.

You settle in, the comfort of the car cocooning you both. The screen flickers to life, and the vibrant world of Clueless unfolds before you. You laugh together at Cher's antics, exchanging knowing glances during the classic lines.

You sit at the far end of the parking lot. It's dark, and the movie starts soon, but that's the least of your concerns. Jun's car is like another world where the two of you can be alone and do whatever you want.

He spreads a blanket on the backseat of his car and scoots over so that you can join him. As you settle in, the car shifts beneath you, and you gently run a hand across his clean-shaven cheek in anticipation of the night ahead.

​​You lean in close to Jun, lightly grazing your nose against his. His eyes flicker as he takes in your scent, and you can feel the electricity between you. Your lips hover above his; you can feel the warmth radiating between you, and your heart thuds in anticipation. You gently kiss his lips and pull away, letting your eyes lock with his in an intimate gaze.

The drive-in movie screen provides the perfect backdrop for the seduction between you and Jun. The soft light of the full moon illuminates your skin as if the stars were made just to caress your body.

Your fingers trace his face, letting him know how much you need him in the silence between you. Every nerve in your body is alive, and the air around you is electric. You can feel Jun's heart beating against your chest as you move closer, your lips only centimetres away from his.

On instinct, your tongues dart into each other's mouths, exploring each other's taste. Jun's hands roam over your body, sending shivers up your spine as your fingers nimbly pull his shirt over his head.

You and Jun spend the rest of the evening locked in each other's embrace, the movie soundtrack providing the perfect backdrop to your symphony.

Jun leans in once again and kisses you deeply, his tongue finding its way into your mouth almost instinctively. You gasp in pleasure as you allow yourself to be swept away into a state of bliss.

Your hands explore each other's bodies, exploring, learning, and refining what you know of each other. You unbutton Jun's shirt as he slides his hand up your thigh, your legs parting instinctively.

Jun slides his fingers beneath the waistband of your jeans, and your breathing quickens as you feel his touch trace circles around your navel. You reach down and grasp his arousal through his jeans, stroking along the length and eliciting a deep groan. His head falls back against the seat with pleasure, and you continue to caress him as the heat builds between you.

You bite your lip as Jun pulls gently at your jeans, teasing you with what's to come. When the denim slides off your hips, he reaches down with a hand, tracing patterns up your torso as his other hand plays with your nipples. Your body pulses under his touch, and your stomach contracts with anticipation.

Jun slides himself over you, pushing his hard cock between your parted legs as his hand slides down your back and cups your ass. You wrap your legs around him, knowing that you can no longer contain your desire for him.

He thrusts hard, filling you and causing your breath to come out in shuddering gasps. He grinds against your clitoris, giving you pleasure with each movement of his hips. You gasp as pleasure courses through your body, and you dig your nails into his back, urging him on.

He slides his hand down to wrap around your back, pushing you closer as you feel the pressure build inside of you. You grip onto him desperately as his lips find yours, tasting every inch of your mouth in a passionate kiss.

Your body trembles as you reach your peak, your breathing coming out in desperate gasps as you cry out in pleasure. Jun follows soon after, your movements gradually slowing as the intensity subsides.

You lay in the backseat of the car, panting softly as you let the waves of pleasure wash over you. Jun wraps his arms around you as he catches his breath, his forehead resting against yours as you two lay in a blissful embrace.

The dim lights from the lot reflect off the glass, providing a muted glow that seems to envelop the two of you. As the movie starts, you can't help but smile in satisfaction at the night you shared with Jun.

#seventeen smut #jun smut #junhui smut #svthub #kvanity #indigo writes: jun