wooyoungsblackhair

[wooyoungsblackhair]

pomegranate seeds ⋆｡°✩ finnick odair [chapter one]

chapter two

but suddenly your hand encased in that soft satin glove pressed to his chest. his brows lowered to furrow in slight confusion and some surprise. "no, no. i don't want to sleep with you." your voice was so soft. god. it was so delicate, almost as delicate as the frown of surprise on lips painted a shade that's since burned into his memory. you looked to your hand on his chest then to his sea-green eyes before you pulled it back and it joined your other hand against your navel. "i just - want your company. to talk with you. genuinely." you clarified with a soft smile and gentle nod.

"you...just want to talk?"

a toy for the capitol and a lonely housewife become friends. what follows is only promised to end in tears or blood - more than likely both.

; forced prostitution, suggestive content, canon-divergence, age difference [reader is 18, finnick is 25], implications of arranged marriage, mentions of underage marriage

chapter one. creams and pomegranates

it was meant to be a task like the others. the only unusual thing finnick had found that day was the destination. usually those in the capitol that favored him enough to seek his ‘company’ were shameless in meeting at his home or inviting him to theirs. even those who were married. so finnick couldn’t even imagine what was waiting for him as he stood in the smooth elevator in formal olive green wool attire that left his broad chest on display up towards the hotel room in the most expensive hotel within the capitol. he couldn’t even fathom spending so much money on a room a night. finnick didn’t mull over who awaited him, he didn’t find the importance in it considering he’d just bare through it as he always did. with his charm and looks he’d find his way out of a pit of serpents – and he had on multiple occasions.

the corridor smelled faintly of lavender. it calmed his nerves just a bit as he walked along expensive carpets in clean deep green dress shoes with golden clasps. the corridors of the hotel he’d never been in at that point were beautiful. creams and beiges the apparent theme with beautiful paintings hung up on the walls. beautiful white calla lilies as perfect as the ones in the paintings rested in beautiful vases of intricate designs and paints. finnick admired as much of the scenery as he could, the sights were stunning. then he reached the cream door with golden trims and a beautiful calla lily hung beneath the peep hole. as a warning, he clicked against the golden figure before he used the card to enter the room.

once more – lavender. it assaulted his senses as he stepped into the room. the room of creams and beiges just the same. his client hadn’t arrived yet so he shut the door and took the time to let his sea-green eyes drink in why the room was so expensive. and upon just a first glance alone he could see why.

a complimentary bar in the room that could more be the layout of a small home without a kitchen or dining room. he looked along the beautiful paintings that hung in expensive mahogany frames. his brows stitched and he exhaled deeply as he wondered what kind of thing he’d meet and be forced to enjoy having sex with – who, that could afford such a room, would need to pay for sex? the bed was beautiful, creams and beiges creams and beiges and creams and beiges. gold trimmings. calla lilies. the scent of lavender. windows that gave a view to the capitol and beautiful side of panem, he drew the cream golden laced curtains shut to block out the early morning atmosphere outside.

finnick didn’t realize then just how familiar he’d end up becoming with the room. he walked over to the bar and he fixed himself a drink, no alcohol, just a sweetness to coat his tongue for whatever bitterness was going to arrive. and someone had arrived soon enough. his muscles tensed on reflex when he set down his drink once the door shut.

“i’m sorry for being late – i was hesitant to come.” those were the first words you’d ever speak to him. and they were so soft. your voice was so soft. delicate and almost pure like the petals on the calla lilies that rested in the vases around the room. not the sultry, skeevy, perverted seductive voice of a woman old enough to be his mother and sometimes his grandmother. finnick’s brows twitched and he turned around, his sea-green eyes nearly snapped open in surprise. you weren’t anything of what he was expecting. your introduction had fallen deaf on his ears as he tried to keep his composure while his eyes drank in the sight of you.

you were young. twenty-one at the most and eighteen at the youngest. you were a stark contrast to the room, a beauty dipped in crimsons and deep reds. the shade didn’t click then but now he knew the shade to remind him of pomegranate juice. you donned a beautiful dress that hugged your figure down just a few inches past your knees. dark pantyhose disappeared up the dress with a sweetheart neckline. you donned a black and inky coat that fell down to your knees, to match the dark pointed toe heels you wore. beautiful rubies glittered in your ears and a dainty diamond necklace was around your throat. you carried a purse on your elbow, a designer one that might have cost more than a home in the victors village. your hands wore soft black satin gloves that stopped at your wrists.

and you were so pretty. jarringly so. with the warm lights your eyes twinkled and a shade that looked as if you rubbed a bitten pomegranate seed on your lips fit your skin perfectly. you wore a sweet smile as you stepped towards him with poise and an air of expensive elegance around you. finnick didn’t notice he’d been staring for so long until you tilted your head in question and he found himself as quickly as his heart beated. the man cleared his throat as he walked towards you, that award winning grin spread on his lips.

“yes – finnick odair but please just call me finnick.” he answered with that charm that always seemed to ooze off his deep voice that dragged with rasp when it grew quiet. it wasn’t his job to question why someone like you wanted to pay for sex, how someone like you paid for the room and paid for his company. as he walked closer towards you, he tilted his head and raised his brows gently. “you seem nervous – would you like a drink to relax?” finnick asked as his hand reached out and gently took your jaw. your skin was so soft, you were even more beautiful up close.

but suddenly your hand encased in that soft satin glove pressed to his chest. his brows lowered to furrow in slight confusion and some surprise. "no, no. i don't want to sleep with you." your voice was so soft. god. it was so delicate, almost as delicate as the frown of surprise on lips painted a shade that's since burned into his memory. you looked to your hand on his chest then to his sea-green eyes before you pulled it back and it joined your other hand against your navel. "i just - want your company. to talk with you. genuinely." you clarified with a soft smile and gentle nod.

"you...just want to talk?" the question left his lips tightly, his facade had fallen hard as he blinked and his brows furrowed. he couldn't remember the last time he'd been genuinely surprised. only a few minutes in and you'd caught him off guard more than he'd been that past year.

your brows sewed up and you smiled a bit sheepishly. “if that’s allowed. i-i’m married and i would never cheat on my husband it’s just a uhm…well, she isn’t a friend but she isn’t a stranger so–” you rambled. finnick could practically see the nervousness that dragged at you as your eyes averted and your brows screwed. gloved hands played with fingers on each hand. with a deep inhale and deeper exhale, you shook your head and met his eyes. “well someone told me that you’re good company and i–find myself needing good company. my husband is always busy and i don’t have much in common with those around me.” you explained, your eyes flickered to his sea-green ones.

finnick grinned lightly, but that grin he donned was genuine. for the first time he showed something genuine before the eyes of a capitol dog. “can i speak freely?” he asked. for some reason finnick didn’t feel fear or anxiety with you, he felt something he hadn’t been able to discern. you nodded at him eagerly as if you had been waiting for him to ask that. finnick believed your permission. “what could you and i have in common? i’m sure whoever told you about me didn’t mean my company was good for talking.” and you nodded with a hum as your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

then you gasped softly and you looked at him with a smile. “you’re from district four, right?” you asked as you walked past him.

“that’s correct.” finnick responded as you stepped over to a dresser and you set down your purse.

and you turned to finnick with a nod as you tugged your coat off. “tell me about life there. fishing, swimming – i’ve always wanted to go swimming.” you confessed as you set your coat onto the dresser before you began to undo the button on your gloves. finnick blinked, another surprise. he wondered what exactly was happening. but as he met your expectant gaze while you dropped your gloves onto your coat, he found nothing deceitful and nothing untrue. you looked genuinely interested – you looked almost enthralled at the idea of hearing him.

and finnick smiled. he truly smiled.

it became something usual. every friday you would visit him in the hotel room. and every time finnick was still wary. he expected you to switch, to place your manicured hand on his thigh or to paint his tan skin in that lipstick you never seemed to be without. but every friday you filled him in on things in your life as he filled you in on things in his and shared other conversations. finnick found conversing easy with you, you were excitable and sweet and a conversationalist unlike anyone he’d ever conversed with. and it wasn’t so bad you were so beautiful with that bitten pomegranate lipstick and that expensive perfume on your skin he still couldn’t figure out. so by the time the tenth friday came by, finnick found his mind spinning with thoughts.

his sea-green eyes watch you attentively, he listens to the way you excitedly chatter about your first swimming lesson. but he begins to wonder whether or not it’d be inappropriate to ask you to stop with the visits. but to instead just be a friend to him. you’re sweet, fun, funny, interesting – you’re a woman he wants to know better and he feels he’ll be unable to to the fullest within the four beige-cream walls. he hums softly as you wrap up your telling with a big smile and a shift of your sleeves that push off your shoulders, your dress is a pretty deep purple. he wonders for a moment how you look when you’re not put together and beautiful.

then again he doubts there is a moment when you're not beautiful.

“but yes – i think it’s going really well i just need to get used to the feeling of my hair being wet.” you scrunch your nose in distaste before you smile softer and hold his gaze. “though i really do love being in the water, i wish i could go more often but too much and my skin could get ruined. i’d rather not upset my husband with that.” a light laugh leaves your lips.

the husband. finnick’s only heard of your husband a few times and he doesn’t like the man that happens to be one of the capitol’s top elites – the reason you can afford the hotel room as he owns plenty of businesses in the capitol and panem. including the hotel. he doesn’t like the man for countless reasons. maybe the fact that he’s fifty while you’re only eighteen and he married you when you were only sixteen. maybe the fact that he rarely ever talks to you and when he does all he offers is criticism. maybe because he’s been rumored to have multiple affairs. maybe it’s all of it. maybe it’s because finnick knows that you deserve better, that he doesn’t deserve you. not by a longshot.

but he doesn’t criticize. because finnick’s been struggling with some late night dreams that aren’t good of him to be having for you – a married woman, a woman married to such a powerful man. because the reason finnick wants to take whatever it is you both have outside of the hotel might not be the most platonic and friendliest of reasons.

then you turn your head and that expensive perfume wafts into his senses to awaken the butterflies in his stomach. “oh! before it gets too late i brought you something.” you say with a lilt of excitement on your tongue as you stand up. “let me get it.” you walk over to where your inky coat, purple lace gloves, and dark black leather purse rest on a beautiful antique chair.

finnick hums with interest and curiosity, he usually receives gifts when he finds himself with a capitol elite but it’s under much different circumstances. usually before he’s bare in front of them with his skin stained in lipstick and that disgust coiling around his insides. and usually gifts he doesn’t necessarily need or like are received. but he feels somewhat excited as you reach into your purse with a tilt of your head and a focus in your eyes. pulling out a pretty velvet box a chocolate shade of brown, you turn to him and curl your index finger at him. those butterflies.

“you didn’t need to buy me anything.” finnick says as he walks over to where you stand.

you shrug gently as he stops in front of you. “i saw it and it made me think of you.” finnick’s heart squeezes and his restraint begins to tug at the chains that rest at the floor of his heart. you’re so sweet, so kind – so soft, warm. finnick smiles at you, dimples prodding into his cheeks as you hold out the pretty box. “a thank you for making my weeks so nice.” you add as he takes it from your hand. finnick’s tan skin warms when his fingertips brush your polished nails. as if he’s a schoolboy and not a man who’s slept with more women than he can count.

finnick looks down and he opens up the box. his brows twitch and he blinks rapidly. it’s a beautiful thin-chain silver necklace with a small trident that hangs off the end. he can recall the conversation with you on the third friday, his trident – the most expensive sponsorship gift ever sent in the games – he’d mentioned how it was a prized possession despite its origins only because it stood as a symbol of all he survived. he blinks softly and he looks to your gaze, you smile up at him with your hands folded against your navel. “do you like it?” you ask softly, hesitantly as worry glitters in your eyes.

he exhales softly and he nods. “i–i really like it.” his voice catches for just a moment, those chains drag at the floor of his heart. “thank you – very much. it’s really beautiful.” finnick says almost breathlessly as his eyes admire the beauty of it. the charm is almost an exact mini model of the trident he held. the man doesn’t bother asking about it. he just enjoys it and his eyes meet your gaze.

smiling in relief, you nod and exhale in the same feeling. “that’s good to hear.” your pretty hands take the box from his and you set it down onto the chair while pulling out the necklace. “here let me see…” your voice softens, it quiets as you step closer to finnick.

and those chains shake as you unclasp the necklace and step so close to him that your body presses to his. he can feel the warmth, he can smell that perfume. and his chin lifts to give you access to his throat as your soft hands brush his skin that he hopes doesn’t feel as hot across his flesh as his nerves and insides do. you clasp the necklace at the nape of his neck, his eyes cast a glance down and he smiles at your face of focus. it’s too soon when you pull your body away from his, but your hands fix the necklace and you smile big. finnick’s sea-green eyes fall down as his tan skin sparks with the remnants of your touch.

“i don’t think i’ll ever take it off.” he says lightly though he isn’t joking. his hand touches the small charm. “i should get you something in return.”

with a gentle laugh, you shake your head but you practically radiate happiness. “i’m glad you like it!” you chirp as your hands fold down above your navel. finnick’s gaze flickers to your eyes that admire the look of the necklace around his neck. then your pretty eyes flicker up to meet sea-green eyes. “it looks good on you.” and your eyes flicker to his bronze hair worn tousled as it almost always is. finnick feels warmer, his jaw tenses for a moment. your eyes meet his sea-green ones and you shake your head. “i don’t need anything in return. like i said – it’s a thanks for your company.”

finnick exhales a soft laugh, it’s quiet and he shakes his head. “i should be the one thanking you, sweetheart.” you never mind his petnames. in fact, he often notices you smile a bit bigger when he uses them. and while your smile twitches upwards at the corners, your brows furrow gently in question. finnick finds his own confusion – isn’t it obvious? “spending these fridays with you are the highlights of my week. especially compared to the women i usually have to entertain. you’re…” he trails off as his arms cross over his broad chest loosely. “you’re kind of like diving into the ocean after being away for a while.”

your smile grows and you roll your eyes while turning away from him. anytime he compliments you, you get shy. he’d squeeze a compliment into every sentence for that if it wouldn’t sell out what he doesn’t want to feel and crave. “refreshing?” you ask with a gentle raise of your brow and an amused smile once your eyes meet his. his grin grows and he chuckles with a nod. you gently smack his chest and cross your own arms over your chest. “you’re too sweet. i’m honored i can be such good company for you.” you say as your pretty eyes flicker between his glittering ones.

“honored? fanning my ego isn’t a good idea.” finnick teases as he leans down closer to you.

laughing, you shake your head and place a hand on his chest. “as if my fanning would do anything to the inferno that it is already, finnick.” he grins a bit bigger, dimples pressing deeper into his cheeks. then your eyes flutter down and you seem to deflate. he knows what it means as you sigh softly and pull your hand away. “i should be leaving now.” you offer softly, your eyes flicker back to finnick’s, then to his necklace, then back to his eyes as you smile softly.

“you should let me walk you out this time.” he offers as you turn and shut the small box the necklace came in. setting it aside, you begin to pull on your gloves while you shake your head gently.

“i wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” you say softly as you tug on the lacy gloves. finnick snorts and you turn to him for the usual routine, one of his hands gently grasp your forearm. skin touches skin and the chains of restraint within his heart begin to rattle further as his other hand gently does the jewel button on your gloves. “besides – you know i always stop to talk the ear off of the sweet woman at the front desk.” finnick smiles at the little fact he does indeed know. and he swallows his bitterness at the sight of your wedding band around your ring finger when he takes your other arm.

“i don’t mind.” finnick reassures you. as his eyes meet yours. that perfume. those eyes. that lipstick. the way your chest rises and falls in a sweetheart neckline. you favor those. “let me, yeah?” he asks with a tilt of his head as he reluctantly releases your forearm.

you smile at him and finnick suddenly stills when your hand reaches out. “you’re too sweet for the card you’ve been dealt, finnick.” you say softly as you brush a wave of his bronze hair back and into his tousled locks. finnick blinks softly, he only breathes when you turn away to grab your coat. “i’ll be happy to be walked down by you but only if it’s not an inconvenience.” you often worry too much, finnick finds bitterness as he catches his breath. it’s probably because of your husband.

finnick helps you pull on your coat. his hands are gentle as he fixes your hair outside of the collar. knuckles brush the nape of your neck. your skin is hot. “do you have everything?” he asks as he attempts to rub the sting off of his skin while you turn and grab your purse. you nod after looking around the room, finnick takes the small velvet box and holds it in his hand. but then his eyes fall down and he stifles a laugh, turning away and covering his grin of amusement with his hand.

“what? what’s–oh my god.” you burst out into laughter as finnick does. smacking his chest before grasping his forearm. finnick turns back and he laughs as he looks down at your pantyhose clad feet missing the expensive heels. since the third friday you’ve been taking them off. “where is my head…” you mutter as you shake your head with a gloved hand over your embarrassed face. finnick laughs and he walks over to the edge of the bed.

“you have your coat on, sit down and let me.” finnick offers and you giggle as you walk over to the edge of the bed.

“it would’ve been humiliating if i left without my shoes.” you say with a grin on your lips as you set the purse down onto the bed. finnick nods as he grabs your heels and crouches down onto one knee.

they’re a pretty black, a strap across the top of your foot and one around your ankle. “i should have let you, it would’ve been hilarious.” you gently swat his shoulder as he slips your heel onto your foot. nimble fingers begin to sort the straps, and his sea-green eyes glance upwards. those chains yank hard against the wall of his heart they’re bolted to when he looks to the lace and garter of your stockings. so they aren’t pantyhose. your dress shifts up on your thighs. finnick drops his gaze.

once your heels are on, you hum softly and he stands. his hand holds out to yours. “thanks, finnick.” you say with a smile and soft exhale as you take his hand. and once you stand, you both leave the room.

it isn’t until you’re in the elevator that you speak. “so, finnick, i’d like to think we’re friends.” you begin with a sweetness. he notices the way your hands fidget with your wedding band, he ignores the bitterness on his tongue and looks to you with a gentle tilt of his head. his heart warms – friends. you’re cute in the way you say the word, excited and joyful. it’s contagious. with a soft exhale, you look to him and you smile sheepishly. “would you want to get lunch tomorrow? i–i’ll pay for your company still but i just want to be with you some place that isn’t well…so…” you trail off trying to find the right word, finnick chuckles and expertly conceals his surprise and feel of butterflies that flutter in his stomach.

“dirty?” he finishes with a raise of his brow.

you laugh and nod while you stand close beside him. “i know it’s a fancy hotel but yeah pretty much.” you smile with amusement and sweetness. then you smile with hesitant expectancy while your eyes meet his sea-green ones. the elevator dings and finnick lets you step out first. “so what do you say?” you ask as he follows you into the corridor that will lead to the lobby.

finnick smiles at you as he stops just before entering the lobby. turning to face you, he nods. “i’d love to. just no seafood – i get sick of it.” he says with a gentle nod. you smile and you glow again with excitement, shifting on your heels with an excited dance before you lean forward and wrap your arms around his neck. finnick wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close against him as his face pushes into your neck. he wants your scent seared into his nose for bed tonight, for other activities tonight. you’re so warm, kind, lovely.

your husband doesn’t deserve you.

maybe finnick can help you realize it. quickly he shakes the thought from his head and pulls away. he should feel terrible, guilty. but as you smile at him - he doesn't. not a single droplet of guilt is to be found inside of him as he wonders how smudge-proof that lipstick is.

[wooyoungsblackhair]

GUY.exe

(masterlist) (perma-taglist)

✏️ pairing: yunho x gn!reader ✏️ genre: fluff, crack, friends? to lovers, drawing? to lover ✏️ summary: you never expected for the character you designed for the newest dating simulator to be quite as realistic as this ✏️ wordcount: 5.0k ✏️ warnings/tags: questionable editing, unhinged crack galore, fever dream, digital artist / designer reader, shy boy best friend yunho, lowkey referencing the song the fic is named after (GUY.exe by SUP3RFRUIT) ✏️ taglist: at the bottom of the fic~ ✏️ a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVE MY NADIA @justhere4kpop !!! you are the kindest, funniest, sweetest person ever, i love you so so much and i am so grateful for every day because it means i can spend it with you <3 wishing you the best day, all the most amazing things, experiences, achievements and more!!

Another hour more, and you were going to scream. Hunched over your drawing tablet with bloodshot eyes and a cramping hand, you had been drawing and redrawing what seemed to be the same thing over and over again. But nothing gave you that magical feeling of completion and rightness when the abstract lines and shapes and shadows and doodles all came together on a page to form one whole. What you were experiencing was, in fact, very much the opposite. All because of these damn dumb brown doe eyes that you had decided to give to the character. Of course. What other eyes could the golden retriever type have, right? What other kinds of eyes would your boss approve of for the established archetype, the persona that you had ideated, storyboarded and proposed not only in front of your immediate team but also to senior management? That was right. None. No other. Only these doe eyes that you had been staring at and cursing profusely for the last four hours after having promised yourself that you would try to get to bed at ten in the evening instead of the less-than encouraging past midnight madness. But who were you kidding? 

Setting down the pen, you leaned back to stretch, hearing random joints crack and echo around your body, making you wonder if you have even been moving at all for the past few weeks. Having the opportunity to work from home during fast-paced sprints was, of course, a big benefit, but all too often for you, it also meant only ever walking from your home office to your kitchen and back, with the occasional bathroom break and a flop onto the armchair you had dragged into your office for designated social media scrolling time. Gone from the world, with your friends having nicknamed you an e-hermit in not one, but two separate chats. Zoned out and barely hanging onto the words spewed by your superiors, much like the rest of your fellow designers working on this same project, be it other characters, setting, clothing customisation options, accessories, or special items… as the main project lead, boss of the bosses had said: ‘whatever the user wishes for, should be there’. Who knew that a dating simulator could be that intense and demanding? 

Your drawing tablet was glaring at you, and so were the eyes on its screen, doubled onto your monitor watching your every movement like a painting at a museum would. They were meant to be kind and loving, crafted to complete the sunshine that this character was supposed to be, but the slightest misses in the lines were throwing the image off-kilter, and you could not pinpoint what was wrong. Reaching out for the now lukewarm cup of coffee off to the side of your desk, narrowly avoiding the clutter of sketches and notes you had made, you heaved a sigh, pondering if it would be the wisest to simply resign yourself to abandoning the task for today, and pick it up at work tomorrow. It was not like you would be punished for having the eyes be slightly off during an update meeting, after all, this was an ongoing process. But the perfectionist part of you was not letting go. You had managed to ideally depict everything else - the toned, tall physique with the stunning waist, torso and broad shoulders, the cheeks that made you feel a strong cute aggression, the tousled locks that could then be customised by a player’s colour preference, every other feature of the face that screamed ‘handsome’ and ‘appealing’... you did it all, and you would not be yourself if you could not overcome this little blip.

“One more try…” you whispered to yourself and searched for the file on your computer that contained a user story and profile of the character you had been agonising over. 

One click, another, and the document was up on the screen, revealing an initial concept sketch that you had made when you first proposed the man as a possible love interest for the main character in the simulator, as well as any facts about him, now being even further developed by the story-writers. Page after page, update after update the character in some ways felt more real than you, especially in your current deflated state. A gentleman, a sentimental soul, with what your colleague had called ‘four-dimensional’ traits and overall a funny, adorable sweetheart who at the click of a finger can turn into the sexiest man alive. There was nothing you did not like - aside from some details here and there that you were not sure who added but they had been approved so you had to deal with it, and that was problematic for your work since it meant that you were in the permanent state of wanting to do the character justice. You scrolled back up, starting at the brief, staring at the name as if it wasn’t already imprinted in your mind. Jeong Yunho. 

The dance instructor and choreographer. The talented and hardworking man who the main character would meet third, on her eighth day in Seoul. Born on the twenty-third of March nineteen ninety-nine in the city of Gwangju, moving to Seoul to chase his dreams and fight for them. Special talents… skills… favourite phrases… preferences… key memories… you read on, re-absorbing the details and rearranging them on imaginary shelves, trying to make sense of the information in the context of character design. How were you going to depict all of this in a pair of eyes? A part of you was confident that you were overthinking - actually, you definitely were. Not a single other designer was on Yunho's creation, and developers were going to look at him not as a persona, as a representation of a being that had become real in your mind, but as a task to execute, lines of code to make him move in predetermined ways, make him talks in predetermined ways, smile… yes, you were excited to see him be just that bit more alive, but at the same time, you were afraid of that moment - it would be right then that the world you had subconsciously built for you and him alone would be shattered, and your daydreams dispelled, maybe even crushed. So, getting the eyes perfect right now was the least you could do. At least your Yunho would be perfect.

Swearing under your breath, you picked up the pen once more and twirled it once around your fingers. His personality was fresh on your mind, heart racing, you could almost imagine him in front of you. With a final nod of encouragement, you dived back in, with more vigour and motivation than before, determined to get Yunho right, and to depict him how he truly was, how you knew he should be. The time ticked past, and so did the layers of doubt. Erasing themselves along with strokes of the digital brushes that dissatisfied you, you were unveiling the true character, and with a light heart, a smile on your face and a saved file, leaned onto your desk and rested your head on your crossed arms, just for a quick break to relish in the fact that you finally achieved the look that you had been searching for…

“Hey, good morning you worker bee, what did I tell you about sleeping at your desk?”

You never thought you could yell, right after waking up, as loud as you did at that moment. Jolting up from your seat, forgetting all the papers, equipment and stationery that was strewn about on the table on which you had been dozing, you bolted away from the source of the voice. It had resounded far too close to you for comfort, belonged to no one whom you knew, and was dangerously sweet and slightly lower-set. Pleasant. But who the hell was in your apartment and how did they break in when you almost always double-locked your door? After building up a bit of distance, you finally looked up and rubbed the last bits of sleep from your eyes. The figure was lean, toned, considerably tall, perhaps even very tall, definitely a man, with dark hair and a face that was a bit too similar to-

Jeong Yunho. Jaw-dropping, you darted back to your tablet and computer, practically shaking the mouse, forcing the entire digital system to begrudgingly awaken at your command. You searched everywhere. The open file, others, older versions… nothing. No luck in finding what you had been working on. It was as if the Yunho you had been spending weeks developing had never existed, and all that you were left with and were staring at was a blank page, and the character, no, a whole man, right in front of you, supposedly living, breathing and in your room. You stood up straight, giving the not-quite-a-stranger but still a stranger a once over, while he, confused, had an eyebrow raised and a sheepish smile on his face. He looked adorable that way. Abashed to the point of cuteness - you recalled a game developer on your team describing the planned emotional response functionality in that way; it had been a hit, and now you were seeing, in person, why. 

“Y-Yunho?” you whispered in disbelief, a hand hovering over your mouth while you were wondering whether you should officially report yourself to your boss for having succumbed to the delusions. Relief flashed over the beautiful man’s features when you mentioned his name, timidly, yes, but still, it was his name that you uttered.

“Yes, Y/N, that’s me, hey, don’t worry.”

“Y/N?” He knew your name. This was too real - a shriek erupted from what felt like the depths of your soul, and you shut your eyes, only to open them again and to see the same picture, but a little more zoomed in. He was approaching you. Code red, alert, alert, hot man of your dreams who you had been drawing all the time and were effectively being paid to thirst over was approaching you.

“Do you not remember me or something, are you okay? See I keep telling you to not sleep so late, it’s bad for you-”

“Look who’s talking, mister ‘time to text at two in the morning’,” It was a shot in the dark, a random recollection of facts that had been noted about Yunho, but that was true, since he stopped immediately, a dazzling smile on his face.

“Alright, alright, you got me. But hey, you answer me so we are in this together, right?” he countered, and winked. 

“Yeah… and I should stop drinking coffee that late, it gives me some cursed… abilities…” you concluded cryptically, though Yunho did not seem to care much about the wording, taking it as your account of how easily you had been spooked by him.

After the initial wave of ‘stranger danger’ had subsided, instead being replaced by the odd conviction that the man before you truly was just the representation of the character for the simulator, you crossed your arms and regarded him more slowly, calmly while he approached the book cabinet that was filled to the brim with manga, manhwa, figurines, dolls, action figures… effectively the best representation of what had inspired you and continued to drive you to do what you were doing in your life now. He was dressed casually, in a zip-up grey hoodie and dark grey jeans. He had taken off his shoes and was in black socks that he stuffed into a pair of slippers - so in this reality, Yunho clearly was a regular guest. Scratching the back of your head, you wondered if this was a storyline that had been updated and you were unknowingly hallucinating.

“Well, uh, if you… if you want me to come by another time I don’t mind. Whatever works best for you…”

Oh. It finally clicked in your head, and your heart fluttered. The moment was stark and aching in your mind, and you were barely able to contain yourself, the subconscious fangirl in you fully awakening. The light flush of pink on his cheeks, those damn doe eyes that were so perfect, and were now looking right at you as if you were Yunho’s entire world, it was all a telltale sign for what was to happen later, and the past disappointment at having been woken up and having no more documents to present evaporated. This was another life, it had to be. One where you did not have to worry about the endless story points, bi-weekly sprints and one deliverable after another. Only a very precious Yunho who, while toying with the sleeve of his hoodie was pondering if he was even welcome.

“Hey! No, we were planning to hang out and we are going to. Sorry, you know how work is and it got to me this time. What shall we do then? Go out, stay in?” you amplified your sociability, putting the fantastical aspect of the circumstances on the back burner for future pondering.

Laying down the pen that you had absent-mindedly grabbed for self-defence, you stepped around the desk and towards Yunho, never once breaking the visual exchange, except when his gaze darted to the floor under your intensity. You had the advantage after all, of knowledge. You could sense, and could confirm by your universe, what exactly was going to happen. He was pretending to not be affected by your closeness, looking at the cabinet again, though the tone in which he spoke was vulnerable, every bit the dream guy you were imagining all this time. You could barely resist the urge to pinch his cheek - in fact, you made a mental note to yourself to check if that was a playable option in the game or not.

“Can we… stay in?”

“Take out?” if there was something you would not quite let him do, it would be to give him full power over the kitchen. Perhaps another time, but not when the dream was so magnificent.

“You bet! I’m buying this time-”

“Yun, c’mon.”

“Technically I am still the guest.”

“You are much more than a guest-” a pause, a blur within which Yunho was attempting to pick out the meaning behind the words which you had purposefully left to be ambiguous, just to mess with him a little bit. It was too sweet, “I mean, you practically live here at this point,” he groaned and playfully rolled his eyes while continuing to tap in the order to what was for sure meant to be your favourite restaurant in the neighbourhood.

You followed him into your living room. Everything was just as you had left it. Even Yunho’s presence was beginning to feel natural, probably because it had already been pretty much just as constant as him now physically falling onto the couch and leaning back to stretch an arm out over the back of it. Hell, you had even spent some evenings sketching him in this same room. As you settled beside him, while still keeping a little bit of distance - just as friends who were feeling not quite platonic would do, you realised that indeed, you were that close. You did know him ‘since forever’, and whatever this fever dream was, you had every right to enjoy it. So upon pulling your legs onto the couch and under you, you settled in and with a soft sigh began to set up the movie you were going to watch. Just like you and Yunho would do had he been an actual interest of yours.

As the food arrived and was promptly devoured, and you were midway through the film, you found Yunho slowly but surely gravitating towards you. First, it was with an outstretched hand when he was trying to imitate a character on the screen, then with him sitting ever so slightly closer when there was supposedly a ‘spooky moment’ even though you knew full well that out of the two of you, you were the one who would not dare enter a haunted house again, and finally, under the pretence of ‘wanting to show you a funny meme on his phone’ he sat right next to you, thighs flush against each other, arm resting on the sofa right behind your head. You could not help but lean into the warmth, attracted to it, comforted. You knew Yunho inside and out, and if there was anyone who you would trust like this, it would be him. He had seen you at your worst - crying in the office bathrooms when during your early days at the company you had been humiliated by your old boss (who, thankfully, had been promptly fired), and had seen you at your best - your award-winning presentation and proof of concept for an innovative life simulation game, selected as a showpiece for the company at a major global conference. He was always there. Be it on your phone, in a sketchbook, or on your laptop - he was always there, cheering you on. There was no difference between then and now, except that now you could allow your head to rest against his broad chest, hearing the soothing beating of his heart behind the cotton fabrics, feeling how his hand dropped to trace random, intricate shapes on your shoulder while his eyes stayed glued to the television screen. 

You could sense that he was afraid to look at you, or at least of what he would think or do if he were to do so. He was warm. Very warm. Maybe too warm. You looked up, noting the adorable redness of his ears that appeared only in particular instances: either he just woke up from deep sleep which was not the case, or he had violently shaken his head and rubbed his ears - another no, or he was embarrassed and shy. Bingo. There it was. You nuzzled against him and swore you could feel his entire body stiffen. Just like when a cat makes a person ‘ the chosen one’ by lying on their lap and said person almost forgets to breathe, you nearly knocked consciousness out of Yunho, it seemed.

“What’s up?” you mumbled, noting that Yunho straightened his back, sitting in an unnatural position.

“I, uh, nothing, it’s nothing,” he responded, clearing his throat, still not daring to look to the side to face you. 

A pause. That was his character - you nodded to yourself. He had always been like this. Sympathy through the roof but when it came to his openness - he far from often strayed into that field. It would take quite a bit of coaxing, or, somehow easier, waiting for the right moment. So wait you did, comfortably resting against Yunho, insistent that he return to his previously unwinded state. Before you could snake your hand around him to pull his hood up, your friend suddenly shot up, mumbling something about it being too stuffy, or too hot, and tugged the article of clothing off.

All would be fine and dandy if he was not built how he was - and you knew it better than anyone, however strange it was to admit. After all, you had been the one to pick and sketch out his physique, knowing every muscle, curve and edge. As he fumbled with the sleeves, you took in his form, mouth agape as you saw what you had only perceived two-dimensionally, now in live action, and somehow being the one case of where the transition was impeccable if not better. If he were to turn at any moment, he would bear witness to your disturbingly dedicated scrutiny. But at the same time, what could a digital artist and designer do when a handsome man was right before them? Exactly. It was practically a duty to perceive; if not for personal interests (which you would be a liar if you were to say you did not have them), then at least for science. He looked too good in the dark grey graphic t-shirt, which, despite it being slightly oversize, did its beautiful work by revealing his perfectly toned arms. When you noticed him being in the process of turning back, you peeled your gaze away and back to the movie, not sure where in the storyline you even were, nor what the actors were saying. Patting the space next to you, you beckoned Yunho back. This time, he was calmer in his demeanour, falling back and letting you fall into him, with him, for him - and he was right there to catch you. 

Action scene after action scene turned into a blur, dialogue was static that you were not bothered to discern while you focused on Yunho’s breathing. Shallower than before, but still comforting. Who would have thought that you would be cuddling with your dream man when a mere few hours ago you were holed up behind your desk, with a cramped and stiff neck, an exhausted hand and equally tired eyes? Eyelids grew heavier, and you wondered if it would be long before you would fall asleep again, and wake up alone, as usual; a bitter smile settled on your lips when the realisation hit you, earning you a perplexed glance from Yunho and a poke in your side.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Definitely something, he turned to you, studying your every movement. The action led him to detangle himself from you, leading you to shiver a little from the lack of his body heat, “ah wait are you cold now? I- wait, here, hoodie?”

“Thanks.”

Him. In every thread. The scent of clean laundry, cotton, and fabric softener. There was something so magical in it, soothing. You wanted to float in the aroma and this moment forever. Pulling the hoodie tighter around you, you pretended to not notice the adoration that was blatantly obvious in Yunho’s expression. He watched as you pushed up the sleeves a little bit, crossed your legs and looked back at him.  Your friend, your muse and subject was nervous, and it did not need a trained professional to figure it out. The tale was climbing to a peak, and the main characters had to face it together. You waited for him, mellowness across your features as you played with one of the hoodie’s drawstrings.

Yunho looked at you, and something about the purity, and hopefulness within him made you think of the very first drawings you had made on post-its in the middle of a conference. Bored out of your mind, your mind wandered back to pondering the new project you had been assigned - the dating simulator. Idea after idea had been proposed for the characters, but not a single one stuck. Everyone was at a standstill until he came along. A breathtaking blessing, just like he was now. Silence settled like snow, only to be broken by a short hum, and Yunho taking the risk you had been wishing for.

“I… I know it has only been a few months but… I really don’t think I can be friends with you anymore, Y/N,” you tilted your head as he put his hands on his lap, fingers repeatedly messing with the material of his sweatpants - his attempt to soothe himself. You, on the other hand, were oddly calm. Simply waiting for the events to unfold and for you to embrace them with the fullest heart. While he was searching for the right words to say, you placed a hand over his, waking him from rumination. A weak smile was replaced by determination, truth spilling from his soul.

“I like you too much. Really. I would not be able to keep my distance even if I tried.”

“Well I think you are a bit too far away right now, Yun,” with a wave of boldness having washed over you, you acted on instinct, leaning towards the beautiful, infinitely precious man until he could not look away, captivated by your proximity, your glimmering eyes, your acceptance.

“Huh?” the sound was barely audible, an echo lost to the tension. You ran a finger over his jawline, instantly seeing his expression darken with another reverberating, deep sensation.

“We should seal the deal, shouldn’t we?” remaining cryptic, you inched closer and closer until you could pick apart the flicks of lighter mahogany in those stunning irises - you wanted to shake your hand for having persevered to finish them in the drawing. Truly, one of a kind.

“What-”

“Oh just kiss me already-”

That phrase you did not need to tell Yunho twice. Finally catching on, he was the first to destroy the distance between you, capturing your lips with his and letting his hand find purchase in your hair, digits running through it, caressing you, guiding you into a shared rhythm. He was as sweet as vanilla with a hint of cinnamon. An intoxicating, ecstatically overwhelming daze that consumed you whole. You saw the sketches flash before you, burning one by one to fuel the desire building for Yunho, for you, for the two of you together. It felt right, it felt real. Arms over his shoulders, you allowed him to pull you into his lap, embrace you and pepper the softest kisses on your cheeks, and your neck, finding the path back to your lips. You felt more alive than ever with the electricity coursing through your newfound intimacy. Nothing existed. This universe was Yunho, and you could not be happier. Better than in any story that you or your co-workers could develop, better than in any fairytale, the oddity transformed into eternity. This was a dream you wanted to remain in for as long as you-

Saying it was hard to wake up was an understatement. Your entire body had been aching from having fallen asleep in an awkward position over your drawing tablet, you had slept past your alarms and as such had only fifteen minutes to cram getting ready and leaving for the office, and upon checking your schedule you had the ‘pleasure’ of having three more meetings being crammed into it, reducing your lunch break to what was a near null. With a sigh, you moved away from your space, dragging your tired body to your first official interaction of the day after having sat at your desk for a couple of hours, already dreading it. The new CEO - whoever they were, was the ‘I want to know all the details and be one with the teams’ type, how joyful, you wondered how long that would last. 

It was hard to find the motivation, especially after a dream such as yours. It kept on revolving in your head, pressing down on you, making you reminisce the gentle caresses, the sweet words and actions, the delightful kiss that you had managed to just have the time to experience with Yunho. You were seeing your character in an entirely new light, already having reworked some ideas for the possible special event outfits and spammed your close colleagues who were working on the storyline with some ideas about how Yunho could have even better depth and as such, engagement from prospective users. Perhaps for this meeting with authority you just needed to tap into your delusions and it would be good enough - at least they were productive for once. 

While you were setting up the presentation, the rest of your immediate team began to file in, giving you excited waves that you returned with an unprecedented warmth. Pleasant chatter, discussion of possibility, mention of just how special it was that this dating simulator game project was the one the CEO had chosen to see today… you were feeling confident. Whoever this person was going to be, you were going to give your best and-

The door opened. Heads turned. Greetings, bows - all forms of politeness that could be expressed being delivered. People standing up, while you stood up taller by the board, the title slide behind you. You raised your head, only for time to slow down and freeze entirely. Your hold on the clicker tightened, and the only person aside from you who existed at that moment was the newcomer. The CEO. Greeting others with a smile and with equally as elegant bows. Every bit the gentleman in his tailored suit, hair swept back and impeccably styled. Jeong Yunho.

This had to be some kind of joke, right? Was this a dream? The stinging remaining after you pinched your arm slapped you back into reality. No. This Yunho was definitely real. But who was the one you-... the one you started dating? The one who you were way more than colleagues or friends with? Before your mind could accelerate into panicked rumination, his gaze stopped at you, and you could sense everyone else’s attention drift to you too. You were under his spotlight. Melting under what was nothing but kindness in his eyes.

“L/N Y/N, right? I heard a lot about you,” his grin was making you dizzy, memories of his taste resurfacing and sending heat to your cheeks, giving them a light dusting of pink.

“Good things, I hope?” you managed, he chuckled, and sent you a wink before sitting down on his chair.

“The best. I am really looking forward to this,” a playful tease.

“Glad to know this.”

“I heard you made quite a few new developments, how did that happen?” you knew what he was getting at, and that made you feel secure. So it was the same Yunho. That precious Yunho who had confessed to you, the one who had come to life and was now part of yours, by some odd twist of fate had appeared in your company, and was now right in front of you, eager and in love. You smirked while twisting to check the slide one last time, well aware that his only focus ever would be you.

“Came to me in a dream.”

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thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please leave a kind reblog, much love!

[wooyoungsblackhair]

line a

when did you start to have feelings for the cute stranger on your morning commute and how are you going to be able to tell him?

⇀ pairing yunho x reader

⇀ genre fluff, angst, strangers 2 lovers

⇀ style one-shot

⇀ word count 4k

⇀ warnings food, yunho cries

⇀ reactions from the gc “Okay but why do I have tears in my eyes” “I feel all warm and toasty inside” “I had a lovely time”

note sorry if you hate brown sugar oatmilk lattes, cinnamon sugar bagels, pastries in general, or sushi

getting a new position in your company meant better pay, a new office, and different work hours. you were happy for the shift in your routine, feeling like you were starting to become a part of some machine, but you were honestly happier for the shift in your commute time.

your old hours always had you riding the train at the busiest times, shoved into a car with a collection of other desk workers like a bunch of sardines, and over the years you’d grown used to not being able to find a seat or even have any form of personal space. you’d always accepted it as a necessary evil that just accompanied getting to work at a prestigious corporation in the city but now, climbing into a train car that was next to empty, you were regretting ever settling for less.

you’d quickly grown into a routine with these new hours, grabbing an iced brown sugar oatmilk latte from the cafe on the corner of the station entrance before your train, spending the 30-ish minute ride sipping and reading a few pages from the book you’d purchased most recently, and then using the extra time before work started to grab a cinnamon sugar bagel from the bakery a block away from the company, unless the pastry of the day was particularly appealing in which case you’d grab two of those.

of the people who took the train at the same time as you, there were always a few regulars mixed in with the random passengers. the old lady, you’d lovingly nicknamed mrs. blue, was an every day passenger. she’d already be on the train when you would board, sat in the farthest corner of the car, with a collection of different knit items on her lap, some incomplete and often actively being worked on during the ride. she wore a different blue shirt every day, and although you were months into this new routine she hadn’t repeated any yet. she would get off exactly three stops before you, taking her time to gather her knits as the doors opened and although you worried that one day the doors would close before she made it onto the platform she hadn’t missed her stop yet.

probably the most recent regular you noticed was someone you’d called the flash to your roommate and the name just stuck. he would board one stop after yours, always arriving at the platform at the same time as the train. he’d take about a minute to look at all the free seats on the train but after what seemed like a heavy debate with himself, one where he would gesture subtly with his hands and mutter quietly under his breath, he would take the same seat he’d taken yesterday, and the day before, and every day as long as you’d been riding this line. he would get off a stop before your own and just as with his arrival, his form would disappear from the platform in tandem with the train’s departure.

of course the most interesting of all the passengers, and the first regular you’d noticed, was a man that both boarded and exited the train at the same stops as you. he was tall, you’d estimate around six feet, and although he’d seemed intimidating as you’d stood on the departure platform for the first time since your change in work hours, he sent you a smile that simply melted away all of your worries when he’d caught your eyes flickering toward him cautiously.

he was always waiting at the platform before you, no matter how early you were to the station, and he always wore one wireless earbud. if it was in the right ear he was obviously on a call, talking and laughing with someone he’d called mingi. if it was in the left ear he was silent and you assumed he was just listening to something, likely music or an audiobook. however, no matter which ear was occupied he would always greet you with a warm smile and a slight nod when you would saddle up next to him on the platform.

you’d tried to parse his reasons for taking the train so often and so regularly but it was next to impossible to be sure when he was always dressed so casually and never carried the same items. some days he’d be weighed down by a backpack that looked like it was holding several concrete bricks while other days he’d have nothing but his phone in his hand. every few days he’d have a different bag of takeout food, though the only repeat container was from a thai place you’d googled one day after noticing him carrying a bag with the same logo for the fourth time.

when you both would leave the train after arriving at your stop, you would cross paths, each of you having exited the door of the car opposite to the direction you would head to leave the platform. at first he would just give you another smile and nod but about a month into this routine he’d escalated to telling you to “have a good day” to which you’d return a quick “you too”.

the train on the way home from work held a different set of regulars, a slightly younger and more rowdy collection, but after a couple months into this new pattern you would find your mind wandering away from the words on the page in front of you to the man from your morning ride.

he was certainly attractive, a sharp jaw that complimented sculpted cheeks, a nose that perfectly defined his side profile, and eyes that would crinkle up whenever he would laugh or smile. speaking of his laugh, you’d noticed he had a habit of tilting his head back when he would find something particularly amusing, a tendency that had caused him to bump his head against the wall of the train car behind him several times. each time this accident had occurred, you would dip your own head, lips pressed together in an attempt to suppress the enamored giggles that would bubble into your throat. after you managed to calm yourself, you’d take a peek in the man’s direction to find a light blush dusted over the apples of his cheeks and along the tops of his ears, eyes flicking toward you before his ears would transition to an even darker shade of red and he would hide his own shy giggles behind his hand, his gaze shifting to the train floor.

your routine became familiar after a few months, comfortable even. it gave you a sense of security, knowing that he’ll always be there.

of course that means that the one day you arrive at the station and he’s not stood in his usual spot on the platform you can almost feel the universe poking a hole through your bubble. it lets in a little bit of something that anyone else might recognize as disappointment, but to you it feels heavier. it’s painted with a hint of worry, and you itch to check the time on your phone every few seconds just to triple and quadruple check that you’re not running behind. you try to ignore the way his absence has thrown you off but as you take a sip of your latte it almost feels like even your drink tastes different.

you board the train when it arrives as you would every other time but even mrs. blue seems to notice the lack of your usual companion, pausing a moment in the middle of a stitch with yarn tangled between her fingers, before she returns to her own routine. similarly, the flash takes twice as long to choose his usual seat, eyes lingering on where the man would usually have been sitting before he moves about his day as normal.

your book seems even less interesting today, the story dragging on as the author tries to build suspense that you just can’t seem to bring yourself to focus on. instead, you wonder if he’s okay, you hope he is, dwelling on all of the possible reasons he could have missed the train, because that’s what you assume he did. he must have missed it, his alarm this morning not waking him or construction making him change his usual path to the station. of all the possibilities for his absence, you in no way consider the reality that approaches as you hop off at your usual stop.

he makes his way through the door he would normally exit, boarding the car instead, with a woman following close on his heels. their hands are connected, fingers intertwined, as he pulls her toward his usual seat on the train and he wears the same light blush as when he’d hit his head on the wall. he looks happy and you want to breathe a sigh of relief that he’s okay, but your body refuses to relax at the sight, your stomach turning and heart clenching as you see her beam up at him.

neither of them take any notice of you, too enraptured in the little bubble surrounding them as you make your way toward the rest of your day. something in the back of your mind tells you that you’re not going to have a very good one.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your day isn’t too extraordinary, the usual tasks and duties taking up your work time, but every so often your mind will drift, as it usually does, to your train companion. unfortunately, instead of the standard admirations of the way he’d worn his hair that day or the opinions on the conversation that you’d parsed from hearing just his half of the phone call, your thoughts seem to be stuck on the way her hand had been firmly captured in his own and the way his eyes had lit up when the woman on his arm had laughed.

as the weeks go on, and his appearances on the train become more infrequent and completely changed by the girl that seems to be his world, you start to consider that this may be your new normal. maybe a regular has shifted into the crowd.

you feel something inside yourself shift in response to this new situation and you try not to harp on it. however, how are you supposed to reconcile something that you weren’t even aware had been happening. when had the boy stood on the platform turned into a crush?

it felt childish to admit, falling for a relative stranger, but it felt even more foolish to realize that she must have been his reason for all those months. that girl was why he took the train, why he was always punctual and bright. maybe you’d purposely ignored the signs, the occasional bouquet and the mention of a jiyoung when on a call, or maybe you’d been too caught up in your own interest, in your own feelings, to realize that he was only a stranger. you didn’t even know his name.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you’re not even sure how long it had been since you’d seen him on the platform as you approached, your latte in your hand and steps stuttering as you realized that he was there. he looked nice today, more dressed up than you think you'd ever seen him. black tie neat and blazer crisp as he shifted from foot to foot almost nervously. it was hard not to notice the bouquet in his arms, a collection of several different pink flowers wrapped neatly in brown paper, and the container of food from that thai place. you could reason to guess that it was likely her favorite, the portions he’d carried had always been suspiciously small for someone of his stature but you’d never seen a need to analyze that before.

aside from the new surprise that just is seeing him on this platform and taking this train, you’re shocked to find that you can’t see an earbud in his left ear but he also doesn’t appear to be in conversation with anyone. he’s not on the phone, he’s not even reaching into his pocket for his headphones, he’s staring straight ahead at the empty tracks, almost willing the train to arrive faster.

as you approach your usual spot on the platform his eyes flick over to you, sensing movement in his peripheral. you try not to make eye contact, pulling your phone out of your pocket to appear busy.

“hi.”

of all the greetings you’ve ever shared, verbal communication was new. you weren’t anticipating any sort of recognition, as you’d stood further away from him purposely, partly in an effort to avoid any sort of interaction with him.

you didn’t respond aloud, your gaze briefly locking with his as you nod slightly before looking back to the screen of your phone.

he doesn’t seem deterred by your lack of proper response, though, as he takes a step in your direction.

“do you think this is too cheesy?”

his voice is much higher than you’ve heard it previously, when he’s talking with mingi or sending you off to have a good day, and you can hear a nervous shake in the tone.

you venture to glance back up at him, the bouquet in his hands now turned out to you so that you can see the writing on the wrapping paper.

will you be my girlfriend?

the lump that forms in your throat is involuntary and you try to swallow it away as you blink at him.

“it’s cute,” you manage after a moment, trying to avoid further discussion as you quickly return to your phone. maybe you could fish out your own headphones from the depths of your bag.

“i got her favorite too,” he explains with a lift of the takeout container, completely oblivious to the hint that you aren’t in the mood to converse. “i never really liked thai but i don’t mind.”

you bite your tongue to keep from saying anything, urging your brain to ignore the curiosity of what he would prefer instead.

you’re sure that you’ve never been more thankful for the punctuality of the train as it comes quickly into view in the next moment, screeching to a stop in front of you both and cutting off the conversation.

you notice that he makes his way to his usual spot, mrs. blue peeking at him from the corner of her eye before she returns to her latest project.

instead of your usual place, one that wasn’t directly across from him but still too close for whatever your heart was doing right now, you decide to take a different spot, one where you can convincingly be enraptured in the pages of your book while your mind takes in none of the words, too focused on the latest development with your train companion.

you try to think about anything other than the boy with the bouquet but it feels like the length of the ride that you’ve taken for months has suddenly doubled. you’re not sure the doors have ever stayed open this long at each stop, yet each platform is more unusually barren than the last, leaving the car with just the usuals occupying their spots.

at your stop, only you and him are left and you realize that in sitting further away from him you’d managed to sit closer to the door that he would normally exit, both of you almost colliding as you try to fit through the doorway and step out onto the platform.

“have a good day,” he says, and it’s not only different because it’s the first time you’d heard the phrase from him in so long but because his voice is still high and still shaky.

you take a shallow breath, trying to calm the prickling sensation that washes over your skin, and you reply, “good luck.”

you don’t stay to see his reaction, dipping your head and feet leading you in your usual direction. you don’t even realize you were practically jogging until you make it to the bakery almost 10 minutes before you normally would.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

half of your day is spent wondering how it all went for him, your regular duties not nearly as interesting as the turmoil in your heart.

your brain tells you that she obviously said yes, simply based on the brief moments you’d seen of them together, and your heart reasons that you want her to say yes, the smile that she’d put on his face when they were together absolutely mesmerizing, but somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach you wish for her to say no. you try to suppress the thought, reasoning that it wouldn’t mean you suddenly had a chance, but the jealousy only continued to fester until you realize that you’d been typing out your internal argument instead of the report you were tasked to start.

you tussle with your feelings for the rest of the day, even as you pack up and make your way to the station in order to head back home for the night. you’re almost too caught up in your head to notice a familiar bouquet in the hands of an even more familiar stranger sat on the bench just off the platform.

you pause when you first notice him, his gaze set firmly on the slightly wilted flowers, eyebrows furrowed in what appears to be a mix of thought and anger, and you try to decide what to do. you could simply walk past and pretend that you hadn’t noticed him, but as you consider that a guilt starts to replace the jealous feeling that had started to manifest earlier in the day. a voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re responsible, you’d secretly wished for his rejection hadn’t you, but you quiet that voice as you take a deep breath and approach him.

“hi,” you chirp once you’re at the end of the bench and you realize that you don’t know what else to say. you didn’t have any kind of plan.

he looks up at you, eyes wide and a little pathetic to complement the subtle downturn of his lips. you try not to react when he notices it’s you and his expression lifts slightly before dropping back down.

“hi,” he practically whispers, the word heavy and soft as it leaves his lips.

“this seat taken?” you resist the urge to drop your face into your palm as your mouth moves before you can stop it but if he finds the phrase at all awkward he doesn’t comment, only gesturing to the empty space with his hand as a sort of invitation.

you move onto the bench, angling your body to face him and you can’t tell if you imagine him shift to match you or if he’d always been sat on an angle as his gaze moves back to the flowers.

“she said no,” he supplies with a shake of the bouquet and a few petals fall out, one landing in his lap while the rest float to the ground.

you bite your lip as your hand reaches out reflexively but you quickly pull it back in before you can pick the petal from his thigh.

“did she say why?” you ignore the thought that you may be prying, telling yourself that he’d offered the information first.

he lets out a single humorless chuckle as his eyes close. when he opens them he looks up at you once more, gaze and voice noticeably watery as he replies, “she never wanted something serious. she thought it was just always going to be casual.”

a tear makes its way past his waterline and he’s quick to wipe it away with the back of his hand before he drops his gaze to his lap, noticing the petal there and brushing it off.

you try to think of anything else to do aside from just sitting here and watching him cry when you realize that he no longer has the bag of takeout and are reminded of the question you wanted to ask him earlier in the day.

“what’s your favorite?” you ask, cringing slightly for not being clear when he looks up at you with a confused expression.

“uh, food,” you elaborate and he tilts his head slightly as though he’s never heard the question before.

he takes a moment to think, eyes fluttering around the both of you, before he says, “i guess japanese.”

you nod slowly, pursing your lips as it’s now your turn to think.

“great,” you say after a moment, rising from the bench after you check the time, “because i love sushi.”

he quirks his head at you again, this time his face scrunches up in confusion, as he watches you stand and take the bouquet from his hands. he doesn’t bother to try getting it back as you walk toward the edge of the platform, the train coming into view only a moment later.

when you notice that he hasn’t followed you, you look back at him over your shoulder.

“you’re gonna miss your train,” you call to him and he hesitantly follows as you board.

the car is empty today and you breathe a gentle sigh of relief as you anticipate your plan.

only a few seconds after you’ve taken your seat, your train companion steps into the car, still observing you with confusion, although you see a hint of amusement start to take over his features as you gesture to his usual seat.

he says nothing as he sits down, eyes fixed on you to the point that he almost misses his chair, sliding down into the seat with a soft thump.

“if you keep staring at me you’re going to make this immensely harder for me,” you say loud enough for him to hear as you look down at the bouquet in your hands. you take the edge of the brown wrapping paper into your hand, the material considerably more wrinkled than when you’d seen it earlier that day, and start to tear. luckily the writing is on the outer layer and so you can tear it off without causing the arrangement to change.

you can’t see his face but you can imagine the tilt of his head as you work to remove the phrase from the flowers, crumbling up the paper and tossing it into your bag.

as the train comes to the first stop you peek onto the platform and silently thank the universe for urging those taking the train from this station to climb into the other cars, leaving only you and your stranger sat in the plastic seats of the familiar car.

before the train can start to move again you stand, clearing your throat, and you notice him shift slightly as though preparing to get up before you take a few steps and close the distance between you.

you let out a breath as you take the seat next to him, eyes intently connected with his own, before holding the bouquet in front of him.

“hi, i’m y/n and i’ve seen you on the train before,” you start, his eyes eager and round as though trying to convey that he’s listening. “i think you’re really cute and i’d appreciate the chance to take you to din-“ you cut yourself off as you pull out your phone to check the time and you swear the corners of his lips pull up in amusement. “midnight snack,” you conclude, putting your phone away as you turn back to him.

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, eyes just looking into yours as his lips slowly part to reveal a toothy smile.

“preferably japanese,” you add to break the silence, the words barely audible.

without breaking eye contact he takes the bouquet from your hand, his fingers brushing against your own and causing a heat to climb the back of your neck.

“hi,” he starts, placing the bouquet onto the seat on the other side of him, “i’m yunho and i’ve seen you on the train before. i think you’re very cute and i’d be happy to get a midnight snack with you.”

you try to keep the blush from spreading to your cheeks but you give up as you notice yunho’s own ears and face growing pink.

“i just have one condition,” he adds and you cock your head in confusion.

“the snack has to be japanese.”

↼ ateez masterlist

note idk why but i just apparently feel the need to romanticize public transit AGAIN

let me know what you thought?

[wooyoungsblackhair]

GODS … mature one - shot | pt. one

pairing : emperor!san x princess!f!reader

genre : slight historical fiction, mature, dark, arranged marriage, second chance, slow burn, eventually smut

word count : 3.5k

warnings : language, blood / body gore, death / murder, hints of dismemberment, san is evil, name calling (stupid girl)

special birthday suffering tag : @sanjoongie please accept this as an early birthday present from your braincell

note : inspired by san's performance video that literally wrecked all of us. none of are safe from his power and this proved it. also this was getting a little too long so i decided to split it up into at least two parts

after your life is unrightfully taken from you, you take this second chance as a way to finally survive and make a difference for yourself. you were tired of being a prisoner and feeling unwanted.

the dining hall was empty except for you and a few guards and servants. not another soul sitting at the long dining table despite it being able to sit twenty people easily, if not more.

it bothered you that you ate alone. every meal, breakfast, lunch, and dinner was by yourself. honestly, a lot of things bother you, but you were never allowed to say what was on your mind. it bothers you that you eat alone, that you have no one to talk to, that your family willingly gave you up to some demon emperor. what bothered you the most is that your "husband" never even gave you the time of day and that you were forced to listen to the maids whisper and gossip about you.

you saw the look of pity in their eyes.

you don't want their pity. you've never wanted anything but freedom for the last three years you've been trapped in this palace.

you were supposed to marry someone who loved you. have a big ceremony and live happily ever after. instead... instead you were taken away from your family by emperor san and forced to marry him. you were a pawn to him in order to gain control over your kingdom.

a prisoner forced to spend the rest of her life trapped in a loveless marriage and life.

you do your best to push down the negative thoughts as you eat. not wanting to get choked up on tears and cry. you didn't want anyone to see you cry.

especially not these gossiping maids.

"i heard the emperor went to the brothel last night."

"again! does him and the princess not spend nights together?"

"of course not. his highness isn't interested in the princess. their quarters are on completely different sides of the palace. i'm surprised he hasn't killed her, yet."

"i am too."

you try your best to ignore them.

when you've finished eating, you get up from the lonely dining table and exit the room. the maids have their eyes casted downward as you walk past them, acting as if they hadn't just been talking about you. your personal guard, mingi, follows you down the hall.

you remember when you first arrived at the palace, san introduced you to mingi and explained how he will be your personal guard.

"don't try anything stupid, mingi has orders to kill you on sight if you do," san's words still haunt you. mingi wasn't here to protect you, but to watch over you and make sure you never tried anything stupid.

when you return to your quarters, you take your usual seat by your window. the window that overlooks most of palace's entrance and the palace wall that keeps you trapped. too high to climb and too far to even try to attempt to make a run for it. like san purposely chose this room for you as a way to mock you. to let you know that you will always be a prisoner.

still, you can't help but wonder if one day you'll be able to be free and live happily.

however, that will only remain a dream until san crushes it as well like he done to all your other dreams.

"ow," you hiss out, finger immediately coming to your lips to try and stop the small prick of blood. you guess that's what you get for getting lost in your thoughts while attempting to work on your embroider.

you look down at the small cloth with the flower design slowly being sewn into it. embroidering was the only thing that kept you sane in this prison. you're waiting for the day san takes this away from you as well.

"princess, are you alright?" a voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look up to see one of the other guards, yeosang, coming into your room.

"i'm fine. just pricked my finger," you say and he nodded his head.

"the emperor is here to see you," he says before stepping aside to let your husband enter your room. he walks in exuding so much power and authority and you hate it. you hate him for how much control he has. you're forbidden from entering the west wing – his quarters – of the palace, yet he's allowed to come in the east wing and even your room without having to ask. you hate it.

"girl," he begins, never has he addressed you by your name. always just 'girl' or 'stupid girl' when it comes to you, like you weren't of your name let alone your title. "pack your bag, i'm sending you back to your home kingdom for a week. you'll be leaving tomorrow morning."

his words take you by surprise. you'll be... returning home? after three years of being away from your family, you'll finally get to see them?

"r-really?" you ask, standing up and completely forgetting about your pricked finger.

"what are you deaf, girl. i'm not going to repeat myself," he says with an annoyed huff and turns to leave.

"wait!" he stops in his tracks at your voice, but he doesn't turn around to look at you. "why am i going? is everything alright?"

"when did you ask so many fucking questions? be grateful i'm sending you there in the first place," he doesn't say anything else before he takes his leave. the door to your bedroom slamming shut behind him and you immediately flinch at the sound.

"are you ready, princess?" yeosang's voice catches you off guard as you look up at the palace you had been trapped inside for three years. being in the front courtyard gives you a completely different set of emotions knowing that you will be away from this place. even if it is for a week.

you asked yeosang if san was going to come, but the guard completely avoided your question. you're not surprised he's not showing up, but it still hurts nonetheless.

then something else hits you.

"where's mingi?"

"he's had some last minute orders from the emperor," yeosang says, keeping his answer vague like always. "come, princess, we have a long trip ahead of us."

you don't say anything but instead silently climb into the carriage. once you're settled inside, the carriage begins to move and you can't help but look out the window watching as you leave the palace.

you couldn't help the smile that painted your lips knowing that you were finally getting to return to your family. you knew nothing could ruin this moment, not even your ruthless husband.

yeosang let out an exhausted breath as he ran towards the palace. the guards standing at their post immediately recognized their fellow soldier, even with his beaten and bruised body.

"yeosang!" the handsome guard recognizes the deep voice from anywhere and he immediately falls into mingi's arms. collapsing from his injuries, no longer able to stand. then mingi realized something as he and some other guards helped his friend. "where's the princess?"

yeosang looked at mingi with tearful eyes before he shook his head and mingi felt something in stomach twist.

"where's the princess, yeosang?"

"i couldn't... i couldn't– bandits ambushed us... i tried, mingi, i really did, but they–

yeosang couldn't finish his words due to how choked up he was getting, but mingi understood what his friend was trying to say.

"where is she?"

"she's in the forest," yeosang answered and mingi immediately set out on his horse with his best friend and fellow guard, yunho. the two were deep into the forest before they finally came across the carriage you had left in.

the entire carriage was destroyed, the wheels broken off and the main part crashed into a large oak tree. bodies of the driver and some others were laying, scattered around and blood was everywhere.

"mingi..." yunho is attempting to be strong as he watches his friend make his way towards the carriage door. it too had been broken and destroyed and the two guards noted how all of your luggage was gone. "those bandits took everything."

mingi ignored his friend in favor of opening the carriage door. however, instead of being met with an empty carriage, he was greeted with something worse.

"fuck!" mingi has to pull himself away from the carriage. tripping over the tree roots as he bends over and vomits. the sight in the carriage burned into his eyes even as he blinks. yunho watches his friend with concern before he's watching him breakdown and sob. tears running down his cheeks and snot running down his nose and over his chin from how hard his was sobbing. mingi's throat burned from when he threw up.

yunho looked between mingi and the carriage before taking several steps towards the carriage. mingi's voice repeating "oh god, oh god, i'm so sorry. please forgive me" is like a broken record in the background. and then yunho reaches over and opens the door and the sight within makes his whole being shake in terror.

when they arrived back to the palace, mingi carried a bag with him as they reached the throne room. san was sitting on his throne with his usually bored expression; however, mingi and yunho entering caught his attention.

"what's wrong with you two?"

"your highness," yunho begins, voice shaking as he starts to talk. however, yunho doesn't know what to say. he's at a loss for words.

"well? what the fuck is wrong you both?" san asks again, standing up and walking towards the two guards. mingi doesn't say anything except hand the bag over to him. "what is this?"

"your highness, the princess's carriage was attacked by bandits. yeosang managed to make it back, but..." yunho says, finally finding his words. he continues after a moment and at the same time san opens the bag. "the princess did not make it. we brought back... what was left of her."

the image of your body laying in the carriage burns in yunho's mind. he had never seen something as horrific before during his time as a soldier and especially done to an innocent woman like you. you did nothing wrong, just someone trapped in a situation you had no control over.

san says nothing as he looks inside the bag, letting the contents settle into his mind before he's carelessly dropping the bag onto the ground in front of his feet.

"oh well."

you can't help the scream that rips through your throat as you thrash around your bed. your covers flying everywhere before settling either back onto your bed or in the floor. your heart is beating rapidly in your ears and your eyes scan the room around you.

you couldn't help but let out another scream as your door is thrown open and in comes mingi with a concerned look.

"what's wrong, princess?" in any other moment you would have found his voice a comfort. but in this moment, you couldn't even find the proper words. the only thing leaving your lips were sobs as tears ran down your face.

it had felt so real, you thought as you curled yourself into a ball. you felt like you had actually died. alone in that forest as those bandits... no. you don't really want to think about it anymore.

"princess y/n?" mingi speaks again earning your attention as you look at him with tear-stained cheeks and glassy eyes.

"i... i had a nightmare," you said as you wiped away your tears. you hated yourself for crying in front of someone, mingi especially. "sorry."

"ah, its alright, princess. just gave me a scare is all," he says before he's bowing his head towards you and leaving.

when the door closed behind him, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. your hands instinctively come up to your neck, feeling a slight ache course through your body. you try to push back the feeling as your stood you and made your way to your ensuite bathroom to get ready.

you remember when you first arrived how you had at least three handmaids to help you get ready, only helping you because they were afraid of san. however, once they realized san didn't care about you, they stopped doing their duty and showing up. only one continued to be loyal to you, yeri.

but then three months ago you found out that yeri only remained by your side because she wanted to try and get close to san. she knew she was a pretty woman and san went after any pretty woman. after she got what she wanted she too–

"princess y/n, what are you doing running your own bath?" the familiar feminine voice snaps you out of your thoughts. standing up from the the edge of the tub, you're surprised to see yeri standing at you bathroom door.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, a little surprised to suddenly see her in your room.

"hm? what are you talking about princess? i'm your handmaiden, i'm suppose to be here," she answers and something feels unease as seeing her settles in your stomach. something wasn't right.

you vividly remember the night you found san pinning her to the wall and her words that were meant to bring you down. "wouldn't you rather someone who could properly please you, your highness? someone much prettier than your ugly and boring wife?" you remember who she tilted her head to the side in a flirting manner, even twirling her hair as the word left her mouth a stabbed your heart.

you remember how san only smirked at her before continuing to have his way with her. right there in hallway and in the east wing – "your" wing.

you had thought she was a friend, but when you heard those words you immediately knew she wasn't. you trusted her and she betrayed that trust. she didn't care. she was like everyone else.

"here, princess, let me finish–

"stop talking," you cut her off, voice as cold as you could make it. you couldn't stand looking at her. "is this some sick and twisted joke to you?" you ask, glaring at her. yeri's face is immediately covered in confusion and she opens her mouth to say something. "get out. i don't need you to do anything for me."

"but princes–

"i said get out!" you've never raised your voice, but the longer you looked at her the more you realized that she was able to easily get what you could never have. san's attention.

you could have sworn you seen yeri's fake persona fall for a split second from your new attitude before she's turning on her feet and rushing out of the room.

you let your anger subdue before you're turning back to the tub and quickly turning off the water before it begins to overflow into the floor. because honestly that was the last thing you need right now after just waking up.

you allow the warm water engulf you and you let out a sigh as you sink into the water. your hair placed carefully on top of your head as a way to keep it dry, knowing it was going to be a pain to do if you got it wet. the ache and soreness in your body was still there all around you. your neck, wrist, arms, stomach, and legs all had a type of ache to them that you never experienced before.

maybe you should visit the palace doctor later, you think before you let your eyes close. however, once you close your eyes you are immediately brought back to your nightmare. the screams of the driver and other servants ringing in your ears, the carriage door ripping open and those bandits standing there and their swords shining despite the darkness of the night.

you suddenly open your eyes again in order to make sure you were still in your bathroom. eyes darting around the room as if those bandits would also be here. its only after several minutes does your heart rate calm down before you can even will yourself to get out the tub.

the water had grown cold.

"princess, are you alright? do you need to see the doctor?" one the maids ask when she notice you keep repeatedly rubbing your wrists and neck.

"i... i think i just slept wrong," you say in an attempt to brush her concern off.

"alright, princess, but if it gets worse please let someone know," she says and you nod and thank her before she's going back to her place with the other maids in the dining room.

"i heard she dismissed yeri this morning, yelled at her and told her to get out," one of the maid's said in a hushed whisper.

"really? that's surprising considering how much the princess liked her."

"i say yeri deserved it because of how she has been trying to sleep with the emperor."

trying? as if she hadn't done it yet? how is that possible when she did sleep with san three months ago?

the unsettling feeling reappears as you continue to think about yeri and the nightmare. something just wasn't clicking.

"excuse me," you say and one of the maids immediately come over to you.

"yes, your highness? what's wrong?"

"what... what month is it?"

"august, your highness."

"a-august?" your shocked by her answer. it was august? that was three months ago. how is this possible?

"p-princess are you alright? you look ill," her voice sounds far away as you begin to lose focus on the things around you. everything becomes blurry and you're quick to stand up. chair scraping along the floor before tipping over and falling to the floor.

you begin to walk away, ignoring the maids calling after you and even some of the guards, but you ignore them all. this was just some sick joke from all of them. from yeri, to mingi, to the maids, to san. you were supposed to be in october and spending a week with your family. not in fucking august with people who hated you.

you don't have time to comprehend anything else before your falling to your knees and passing out in the middle of the hallway.

after you had passed out, you had woke up in your bedroom with mingi, yeosang, and the palace doctor surrounding your bed along with a young maid.

the maid was the first to notice you awake and she immediately collapsed at your bedside with tears welling up in her eyes.

"oh, princess, i'm so glad that you're awake! we were all worried sick about you!" she said and your eyes moved from between her to the two guards and then the doctor.

"how do you feel, your highness?" the doctor asked and it took you a moment before you actually answered him.

"i'm fine," you answer despite how your body still aches, you force yourself to sit up. the young maid is quick to adjust your pillows for you as you do.

"you all can leave," you add on looking at the guards and doctor. mingi and yeosang as hesitant to follow your orders, but the doctor does so before giving you instructions to take it easy for the rest of the day. he also said that he would make sure your meals are delivered to your room and that he'll come back later.

when the three males leave, you are left alone with the maid. her doe eyes looking at you with concern as she keeps a watchful eye on you. that's when her name finally comes to you.

"yunjin..." you say trailing off as you remember that she was with you in the carriage. you remember watching as the bandits grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out of the carriage because she tried to protect you.

"yes, ma'am? do you need anything?" she asks, voice hopeful and waiting to help you. you remember she began working for you when hongjoong – san's advisor, had found out that you had no one helping you. you know he only assigned yunjin because he took pity on you like everyone else here.

however, yunjin followed you around and listened to every order you gave her. at first you were worried that she would be like yeri, only using you to see the emperor. as if you see him on the daily. but then you learned that yunjin was a devoted servant to you.

"is it... really august?" you asked her, still not able to wrap your head around everything.

"yes, princess."

what if... oh god, what if you did actually die that night? does this mean you are given a second chance? a second chance to survive and to make sure that you and yunjin and the other servants don't die.

but how were you going to do this?

and then you hear loud cheers and noises coming from outside and you have to force your body to crawl out of bed and over to the window. then you see him.

san walking through the gates and into the courtyard, a small army of followers around him. following him around like he was some god. then it clicked inside your brain.

if you were going to survive then you would have to gain his favor. deep down you know san was probably the one behind the "bandit" attack. so getting on his good side would get him to call off the bandit attack.

you were going to win over your ruthless husband.

tag list : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @pyeonghongrie @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frgogh @sookacc @seongwin @burnsmepls @ad0rechuu @tunaasan @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @cheesekimchi @confusedmoonchild777 @mjyungi @innieontop @iweirdthingsblog

network : @cultofdionysusnet

[wooyoungsblackhair]

Something about men looking up like this >>>>>

[wooyoungsblackhair]

Walk The Plank (KHJ x fem reader) Masterlist

Synopsis: You had grown up hearing tales about the infamous pirate crew ATEEZ—the fearless, power-hungry men that roamed the seas in search of the most valuable treasure they could lay their hands on. You almost didn’t believe the stories your mother had told you as a child…not until you wound up on their ship

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x reader, a bit of ot8 x reader in the beginning

Genre: fluff, angst, romance

Concepts: pirate au, halateez au

General warnings (there are individual warnings for each chapter as well): violence, weapons, blood, cursing, etc.

Hi lovies! My links to this story were suddenly having issues so here is a masterlist!! <3

Ch1: The Man with the Black Fedora

Ch2: Wooyoung’s Choice

Ch3: San’s Resolution

Ch4: Seonghwa’s Memory

Ch5: Jongho’s Wanderings

Ch6: Yunho’s Brother

Ch7: Mingi’s Diary

Ch8: Yeosang’s Time

Ch9: Hongjoong’s Dream

Ch10: Your Story

Ch11: Who Are You?

Ch12: Promise

Ch13: Cyberpunk

Ch14: Paradigm

Ch15: Take Me Home

Ch16: If Without You

Ch17: Desire

[wooyoungsblackhair]

EYES DON'T LIE — masterlist

　　　　　eyes don't lie !

synopsis. you've always resented jeong yunho, and you were positive that the end of high school would've marked the end of your rivalry and hatred. yet now you find yourself in the same crappy hotel as him. assigned to be right next to each other much like the good old times. pairing. jeong yunho x fem! reader. genre. mini-series, fluff, slice of life, mature, academic rivals to lovers, non-idol au. warnings. mentions of infidelity, angst, eventual smut, swearing.

[ lilo's notes ... ] taglist is open please send an ask to be added. interact if you enjoy the story or have any feedback, i love reading comments.

main masterlist

the playlist.

　i. heat, physics and jeong yunho // ii. room 323 // iii. [ coming soon . . . ]

　EYES DON'T LIE　©　seonghwaddict, 2023

[wooyoungsblackhair]

some bf!yunho x fem reader texts !

warnings: crack, humourless humour, reader is a simp, some pet names ( baby, gorgeous), swearing, smau (kinda??)

tags: @ddeonghwassimp @ihrtlix @leebvt @kei-toast

[wooyoungsblackhair]

star-crossed 彡

highschool!ricky x fem!reader 、masterlist

。synopsis ➷ in which you are paired up with ricky shen, who fully convinced himself that you purposely became his partner in order to date him.

。genre ➷ social media au, highschool au, ricky x fem!reader, fluff, crack, angst, flirty x shy au, right person wrong timing, sfw, may contain writing form!

。warning ➷ contain curse words, dark humour, mental illness jokes, kys jokes, etc

。profiles ➷ y/n’s friends / ricky's friends

taglist request is closed .𖥔 ݁ ˖

˗ˏˋ ★ˎˊ˗ table of content ; —

one. the 1

two. i

three. persist

four. and

five. resist

six. the

seven. temptation

eight. to

nine. ask

ten. you

eleven. if

twelve. one

thirteen. thing

fourteen. had

fifteen. been

sixteen. different

seventeen. would

eighteen. everything

nineteen. be

twenty. different

twenty-one. today

twenty-two. epilogue

book-2. 11:11

[wooyoungsblackhair]

— 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, ꜱ. ʀɪᴄᴋʏ

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𓂃 ❝ blink twice if you want me ❞

────────────────────────

synopsis, ricky was paired with a girl who he wants nothing to do with and you just so happen to be paired with someone who doesn’t want anything to do with you… what do they do? swap partners obviously !

paring/genre, ricky x reader, smau

warnings, language, mentions of food, kys jokes and i’ll add more stuff as i write!

﹒⪩ PROFILES ⪨﹒

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

y/n’s friends,

ricky’s friends,

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✧. ┊    MASTERLIST

1. what do you mean she’s gay…

2. i think she blocked me

3. joe goldbitch

4. i’m not sending him feet pics

5. first response

+ more coming soon!

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[wooyoungsblackhair]

S E C R E T S E C R E T

-> in which Stray Kids attempt to protect their image after an unexpected encounter with you, but, oh, Changbin is kinda hot? AND emotionally intelligent?? Oh no.

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pairing: Idol!Changbin x Influencer!reader

featuring: stray kids + other random idols

genre: smau, crack, fluff, slight angst, mature themes, cursing, fem!reader

status: coming soon!

warnings: cursing, sexual themes, more to be added probably

a/n: another changbin smau because he's my bias, and what're you gonna do about it?! Fair warning this will most likely be ridiculous

━━━━

Italicised: written!

Taglist: open!

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profiles

part one: *gone wrong*

part two: tissued™

. . .

━━━━

[wooyoungsblackhair]

frenemies (discontinued for a while)

🎥 ﹂student!renjun x student!y/n

﹂genre; fakedating!au, college!au, smau, fluff, crack, angst

﹂synopsis; your friends think you’ve never dated anyone but you obviously don’t want them to be right so you tell them you had an ex and say the first person you see in your class, huang renjun.

or

your fake ex is renjun and now he has to play along with your act while hating you

started; 02/19/22 completed;

updates: once a week

authors note; i’m back with another smau, and i know i never finished the other ones (im sorry) 😭 i was so unmotivated that i had ideas and then i would just not want to continue bc i couldnt think of a further plot but now i actually planned out one for this smau so hopefully you enjoy it ! i realized theres not like a lot of nct smau’s so here i am 🤠 lmk if you want to be tagged for any updates :)

profiles 1; profiles 2;

❁ 1. yuta my love

❁ 2. huang renjun

❁ 3. we never dated

❁ 4. 🖕

❁ 5. y/n + renjun ❤️

❁ 6. egg

❁ 7. markie

❁ 8. bowl cut haechan

❁ 9. marks cute ??

[wooyoungsblackhair]

[wooyoungsblackhair]

♡ LOVESTRUCK ; RICKY

♡ SUMMARY_ ➤ in which reader becomes rickys class crush. everyday the urge to actually talk to them , instead of staring or thinking about them , grows stronger. yet his shy personality gets in the way. on the other hand , reader who is the epitome of an awkward introvert , could care less about silly crushes only has two goals. to get the hell out of school and die.

♡ GENRES/PAIRING_ ➤ social media au , high school au , sunshine introvert x grumpy introvert , ricky x reader

♡ FEATURING_ ➤ zb1 members , other boys planet contestants , y/n and their friend

♡ DISCLAIMERS_ ➤ death jokes / dark humour / broke jokes / food involved plus a lot of curse words please do not read if you are uncomfortable , no plot im writing as i go , irregular update schedule , will be using she/they pronouns for reader

♡ SOCIAL MEDIA ACCOUNTS_ ➤

➤ y/n’s social circle_

➤ the boyz_

♡ MASTERLIST_ ➤

£ part 1

£ part 2

£ part 3

©️yrthr 2023

[wooyoungsblackhair]

꒰ 💭 ꒱ OH, NIKI YOU’RE SO FINE! ˖ ⌨︎ ⁩◞❪니키❫

— SYNOPSIS ୨୧ ! Lesson learned ! never ever accept a dare from Heesung! Dared to tweet about how attractive your best friend was, you miss-typed ‘m’ with ‘n’ who apparently turned out to be the name of some guy in the basketball team? Oh how embarrassing!

or in which 𓂅 nishimura riki woke up to a sudden paragraph long compliment from his crush (who didn’t even knew he existed)

— with love on the line ! 𖥻⏱️ ぃ ˑ  (pairing) non idol!nishimura riki x non idol!fem reader — 𓄹 ࣪ ִֶָ 🧂  ࣪ ▸

「 GENRE 」 ! STRANGERS to LOVERS, friends? to lovers, fluff, crack, highschool au, smau w writen parts, kinda one sided crush typa thing .

— the risk, are u willing to take it ? 𖥻🥛ぃ ˑ  (featuring) enhypen, winter aespa, beomgyu txt, jeongin skz, minho skz, etc — 𓄹 ࣪ ִֶָ 🎯  ࣪ ▸

「 WARNINGS 」 ! cursing (ofc), denial denial denial!!, anxiety, jealousy, overthinking, dying jokes, kys jokes, and those kinda stuffs

「 NOTES 」 ! This is NOT how i view these idols! this smau is js for fun and crack ykyk as well as js for fictional purposes only! feel free to send asks to talk abt this smau w me!!!

( 💬 means there r written parts! )

「 TAGLIST 」 ! OPEN send an ask / comment to be added in!

status on going ! 25/04/23 — tba ﹟╳×

CHAPTER INDEX ! ˖ ࣪⭑

⊹ ˚. PROFILES . . ! ONE ⋮ TWO ⸱៰ ͘ ࣭⸰

001 ! omg hit tweet 002 ! he can pull??

003 ! u still love me right? 004 ! let me be delulu

005 ! lover with a $ sign 006 ! he’s kinda??

007 ! help i’m dying here 008 ! lemme make it up to u

009 ! careful w ur feelings 010 ! living the dream

011 ! as friends ofc! 012 ! from hoe to foe

013 ! js a cute friendly date 014 ! giddy giddy giddy

015 ! watch me? 016 ! my bb is all grown up

017 ! ykw i get the hype 018 ! as if it was your last

tba

© aernx 2023 / do not steal, copy, translate — hope you enjoy my works! first smau kinda nervous!! let me know if you have any suggestions !

[wooyoungsblackhair]

The Roomie (ksy x reader)

social media! roommate! AU

kwon soonyoung and his friends need a roommate. (y/n) just got evicted. It sounds simple enough, but really, is anything ever simple?

notes: reader is referred to as she/her, with no descriptions of physical appearance. no trigger warnings apply :)

INDEX

one - profiles

two - new girl

three - move in day

four - the shower incident

bonus #1 - shenanigans

five - drunk in love

six - ignorance isn't bliss

seven - soonyoung will pay

eight - the finale

epilogue

completed! <3

[wooyoungsblackhair]

No Secret ; Woozi x GN Reader Smau Masterlist

summary: y/n’s friends don’t believe they have a bf, they try and prove if but how can they when their bf is a world famous singer and producer?

genre: fluff, maybe a little angst

pairing: woozi x y/n

start: dec 5 2022

end: dec 18 2022

a/n: this is my first smau since i was like 16 so sorry if it’s not the best, please enjoy!!

profiles;

y/n’s friends

Seventeen

chapters

1. no bitches

2. miss you

3. oh worm?

4. i know.

5. svt anti

6. he’s just hot

7. sunday mornin-

8. hmmm

9. tours over

10. oops

11. set me up

12. 6 years ago…

13. #report

14. we need to talk

15. can’t get rid of us

16. still think you’re dumb

17. Epilogue