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thisisourlovestory · 4 months

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Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Word count- 3.2k

Chapter 4

We were immediately assaulted by the screams and shouts of Capitol citizens as they clamoured for a look at us, as if we were animals in a zoo. The only thing holding them back were peacekeepers. I wanted to ignore them, I wanted nothing to do with them, I wanted to just go somewhere far away and never return. But I couldn't do any of those things. I looked to the side and saw Lysander pointing people out, muttering under his breath if he knew them or not, and if he knew them then I knew they were important, in other words they were the richer members of the Capitol and they would be the ones sponsoring tributes. And Finnick had turned on the charm yet again, giving that blinding smile, waving to the crowd, blowing kisses at women who swooned and almost collapsed at the attention. Even Mags was nodding her head at them, a smile stretched across her face at the attention she was receiving, but her eyes weren't smiling, the smile was for show, to keep up pretences. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again.

That's when I saw her. A small girl dressed in a bright pink dress that puffed around her, golden hair coiled in ringlets with a matching bow half the size of her head keeping it out of her face. She was so tiny, and almost being crushed in the crowd, I could see panic on her face about to give way to tears. My eyebrows drew together and I glanced at Lysander before striding over to the peacekeepers.

“Excuse me.” I yelled, “I need to get to that girl there,” I pointed at her, “The one in the pink.” Surprisingly they listened and cleared a path for me. I could hear Lysander calling my name but I walked towards the girl and crouched down in front of her. She looked at me and I smiled.

“Hi there. What's your name? Are you okay?” I asked softly. She nodded, sniffling and wiping her nose.

“I'm Clio.” She answered in a tiny voice.

“There are a lot of people here aren't there Clio.” Nobody was making a sound, too busy watching me. “It can get a bit scary sometimes, especially when you're small like you.” She nodded again. “I'll tell you a little secret Clio.” Her eyes widened a bit and she leaned in. “I'm still scared of this as well sometimes.” I nodded solemnly. “But it's okay to be afraid of things and one day you might just find out that you aren't afraid anymore.” I plucked a flower that had been thrown at us by someone from the concrete floor, a pink carnation- my mind supplied, I snapped the stem and tucked the flower behind her ear. I smiled and she threw herself at me. Surprised, I patted her on the back and pulled away after a few seconds. She smiled back at me and held out a bouquet of flowers, all different colours and shapes, as I took them she tucked a white rose behind my own ear and whispered something.

“I want to be like you when I'm older.” The words hit me somewhere deep inside but I managed a smile and pressed a light kiss to her forehead before I walked back to the others. They all stared at me but I did what I did best and ignored them as people started calling my name much louder than before. My little display of humanity must have done something, made them feel something for once for that to happen.

Flowers sailed over my head and jewels clattered on the ground as they became even more frantic to catch our attention. I felt Finnick's gaze on my back as I walked just a little in front of them, lifting one hand at a time to wave to the crowd. They went wild. Scrambling over each other to get closer to me, yelling my name louder and louder. One step in front of the other. Petals from flowers crunching underfoot. I smiled slightly as we finally got to the Remake Centre where our stylists would be. Peacekeepers waiting inside separated us and led us off to different rooms in the vast interior. The last thing I heard as the elevator doors shut was Lysander talking to Mags, I only caught the end of his sentence.

“An angel.”

I stood awkwardly in the elevator, four peacekeepers accompanying me. Four. Did they think I was Cashmere or Enobaria? Because I had never had more than one accompany me at any time. They only give you them if they think you're dangerous, but there was nothing dangerous about me at all. So why? A ding sounded and the doors opened, I was taken to a room and left there alone, simply looking around the room. It was all white, stark bright white, clinical almost and like freshly fallen snow, pristine. I waited for a few minutes, kicking my feet under the table I had decided to sit on, before a small group walked in, chattering away. They gasped immediately upon seeing me. Two women and a man, all with brightly coloured hair. They hurried over to me and introduced themselves.

“I'm Antonia,” said the one with bright blue hair, “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“And I’m Priscilla.” The other girl with silvery hair said brightly. I studied them, they looked similar, sisters maybe.

“I'm Quintus.” The man said. “We are your prep team.” They all smiled at me, a gesture supposed to be calming but the looks in their eyes made me nervous, and within moments the girls were stripping me of my clothing and bundled me into a bathtub filled to the brim with steaming hot water that was almost painful to touch. Antonia sprinkled bath salts into it that smelled overwhelmingly of lavender and mint. They scrubbed me with soap until my skin was red and raw but left a weird sparkle to it. My hair was shampooed and conditioned within an inch of its life, not a single tangle could be found once they were done with it. Then, they dragged me out, dried me off with a fluffy towel and wrapped me in a silk robe. They directed me to lie down, then they proceeded to tear out every scrap of hair on my body that they deemed unfit to be there. Warm wax spread across my skin, almost comforting before the pain that followed, then cool gel to stop the sting in one spot as they repeated the process again and again and again until I felt like a plucked chicken. Quintus spread some kind of clay mask on my face and let it sit while the others rubbed scented oils into my skin and sprayed perfume over me. He peeled the mask off and brushed some cream across my skin leaving it smooth and soft. I went to touch my face but he smacked my hand away, scolding me as if I was a child.

“No, no, no. You don't touch, we just got all the dirt out. Don't touch.” I didn't try to touch it again. They cleaned my nails, filed them into an almond shape and painted them a shining pale pink with pearly white tips, then did the same to my toes. They plucked and perfected me as if I were a doll for them to play with. All the while they chatted mindlessly and not a single word they said held any meaning to me. Talking about how exciting the games this year would be, who they thought would win- they assured me after that they definitely believed it could be me, I knew they were only lying to make me feel better. Fortunately for me they completely ignored my mark, perhaps they thought it was simply a tattoo since they were very common in the Capitol. Unfortunately for me they did not shy away from mentioning how attractive they found Finnick. I believe Antonia's exact words were that he could ‘Do whatever he wanted to her as long as the last thing she saw was his face.’ At that point I decided that the best thing would be to not listen so I tuned them out and nodded occasionally so they thought I was paying attention.

When they finished with me I had been primped to, what I assumed was in their eyes, perfection. They sat me down and inspected me, silently for once. Quintus hummed.

“Good job ladies.” He praised Antonia and Priscilla. Then to me. “Your stylist will be here in a moment. After she's dressed you, we’ll do your hair and makeup.”

"I thought that you did all that before.” At the confused look on my face as I spoke he elaborated. “She decided to do things a bit differently this year. Something about us being able to make you look better if we did it after because we would know what the dress looked like.” He rolled his eyes. “I don't understand personally but she's the boss.” Then they left. Giving me small waves and whispering to each other.

I stayed seated, wrapping the robe back around my body tightly, shivering as the cold air touched my legs. The door slammed open and I jumped, my head snapping up to see a woman. She was wearing a long black dress that had shimmering blue detailing on it at the hem and bodice. She smiled at me, her white teeth standing out against her dark skin.

“Hello Y/N. I'm Megara.” She said as she walked over to me. I could see her more clearly now. The blue on the dress was in a swirling pattern that reminded me of the waves back home, her hair was cut short with a fringe that fell just above her dark eyes that were flecked with green. “First I'd like to say that I admire what you did for her. Annie. It took great courage to volunteer to come back. Second, I am your stylist this year and I have a lot planned. Third, you're going to look incredible.” I blinked, surprised at how blunt she was.

“I've never seen you before.” I stated and she grinned.

“It's my first year styling for the games. I'm younger than the others but I've learnt a few tricks from my older brother.” I tilted my head questioningly. “You may have heard of him. His name is Cinna.” I tapped my fingers against my skin.

“Katniss Everdeen's stylist.” She nodded and hummed.

“Yes. And this year my mission is to beat him. Well, less of a mission, more that I just want to rub it in his face when my outfits for you are so much better than the ones he's made for the girl on fire.”

“How are you going to do that?” I asked softly and her grin widened.

“My brother uses fire. So I'm going to use water.” My eyes widened and I sat forward.

“What do you mean?”

“I'll explain later but for now you need to get changed into these.“She waved a hand in the air dismissively and shoved the bag she was holding into my arms. “Once you’re ready I’ll get the others back in and let them do what they do, then I'll explain what’s going to happen out there.” She shoved the bag she was holding into my arms. I walked over and into the tiny changing room and just before I shut the door she called out over her shoulder. “And I actually want you to wear the bra and pants. Unlike anyone else in this place.” I snorted with laughter and closed the door. Once I was alone, I zipped open the bag and emptied the contents onto a bench. A set of white underwear, a simple white dress and a matching set of heels. I quickly pulled them all on and stared at myself in the mirror on the wall. The dress fell around my body in a sheet of white, it clung to the upper half of my body like a second skin but flared out slightly at my waist and hung loosely to swing around my ankles. The sleeves sat off my shoulder, exposing my neck and collarbone, the sharp bones almost seemed to cut through my skin, the sleeves fell down to my wrists and the fabric formed a sharp point where my middle finger joined to the top of my hand. The shoes were open toed, thin straps crossing my ankles and just above my toes, they were unfortunately heels and incredibly uncomfortable. I walked unsteadily back into the room, arms thrown out to the side to balance myself. The second I stepped in, Megara whirled around and her hands flew to her mouth.

“Oh. You look perfect. The dress suits you so well, now sit, sit.” She waved me to sit down on a chair in the centre of the room. I sat and the prep team ran back into the room.

I was immediately swept up in a whirlwind of activity. They whipped out brushes, makeup palettes, hair brushes, sponges, pins, elastic bands, curling tongs, straighteners, and… was that a measuring tape? Quintus yanked my arms down to my side as Priscilla opened a huge case. He barked orders at her and she handed him everything he asked for. He painstakingly applied the makeup to my face, muttering things under his breath and twisting my head to inspect his work. Eventually he pulled back and Antonia took over. She brushed my hair viciously, making sure it was as smooth as possible. Then she curled it loosely, letting the curls fall down my back in spirals. She pulled the front part of my hair back and plaited them tightly around the back of my head in a crown. She twisted the loose strands out and let them gently frame my face, featherlight touches of hair against my cheeks. They finally stepped back to admire their work and gestured for me to stand up. I wobbled to my feet and gave a little spin, letting the hem of the dress flare out around me slightly.

“You are a masterpiece my dear.” Quintus told me. “You look incredible. Nobody will be able to top this.”

“Don't mess up the hair.” Antonia chimed in from behind him. I looked over my shoulder to see myself in a mirror Megara was holding up. They had given me only the thinnest layer of makeup to conceal my flaws, then added sparkling eyeshadow and dramatic mascara to lengthen my lashes. In effect, it made my eyes look larger and more pleading, more innocent. The dress revealed just over half of my back, cutting down in a soft curve and exposing the thin silvery scars weaving their way along my skin. Practically invisible from a distance which would be fine but close up they seemed to be the only thing you could see. They weren't ugly per se. They weren't as bad as some of the scars other victors had. In fact I quite liked them. They reminded me of home in a way. The way they twisted unpredictably across my skin like waves. Always changing, never staying the same for long. So no, they weren't ugly, at least not to me. To me they were beautiful. They reminded me of all the trials I had suffered, the torture I had undergone a few years ago when President Snow made me an offer. And I had refused. But you can't refuse Snow and expect to get away with it unpunished.

My hair was perfect, pinned up just right and styled in a way I never would have been able to recreate myself. The sleeves covered up my mark which was good, I wouldn't want to have to explain that to anyone, especially not the man I would be on the chariot with. I twisted my wrists to look at the palms of my hands rather than the white satin, soft against my sharp bones, reddened dents from my fingernails lined them, small bruises from smacking my hands down too hard on corner surfaces and calluses spread across them. Perfect as far as they could see, with the best clothes, flawless makeup . But not really.

“Now hold still just a moment dear.” Priscilla swooped down on me like a vulture, brandishing baby pink lipstick and gloss. She swiped them onto my lips as quick as a flash, leaving them slightly tinted and glowing. They all turned to look at Megara and when she gave a decisive nod of approval they all filed out of the room, lugging behind their suitcases and bags. No sooner had they left the room, Megara sat me back down and brought out a jewellery box. She reached in and took out a sparkling diamond necklace. I gasped and she clasped it around my neck.

“So the necklace is really just for a bit of bling. This is the pièce de résistance.” She dipped her hands back into the box and extracted a delicate tiara, thin pieces of silver wrapped around diamonds and pearls. She placed it gently on my hair, tucking the sides of it under the braid to secure it. “Now you look perfect.” She told me, holding up the mirror so I could see myself again. I took in the plains of my face, she was right, I did look the perfect part. She interrupted my thoughts. “I should tell you I have no idea what Finnick will be wearing because his stylist has hated me ever since I refused to go out with her brother. “ She rolled her eyes. “It's a long story that one. But given his appeal to the Capitol I would say it'll be interesting to say the least. In any case, you'll look incredible next to him. Now I should probably tell you what you're going to do when you're in the chariot okay. So listen up because I'm only going to say it once.” I listened intently, a smile blooming on my face as she gestured wildly, animatedly explaining her master plan to me. I asked a few questions which she answered, albeit a little reluctantly. Then she was checking her watch and ushering me out the door and down to where the chariots would be waiting. “We have half an hour until the procession. I know I'm only your stylist but try not to draw too much attention to yourself. Although that may be hard considering this dress. “ I laughed loudly.

“Don't worry Meg. I'll be fine and it'll all work out. I promise.” I clasped her hand in mine and grinned. “Now I'll make you a bet.” Her eyebrows rose and she leaned in. “I bet you Finnick will be wearing nothing on top and not nearly enough on the bottom.” She eyed me up and down.

“Okay then, why not. I'll take my chances. Besides,” she smirked,” I'm not so sure you'd necessarily be opposed to that.” Her eyes latched onto my wrist and she gave me a knowing smile as I flushed bright red. “I won't tell. I promise. We can gossip about it later.” She winked and with that was gone, yelling over her shoulder. “See you out there angel.” I smiled at her antics, a smile quickly replaced as peacekeepers escorted me through the doors and into the huge space where all the tributes were gathering. I took a deep breath and prepared myself.

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#finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick odair x you #thg x reader #the hunger games #angst #catching fire

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zgvlt · 11 months

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hearts held out of harms way ace trappola x reader x deuce spade (polycule)

commissioned by: shopkeep !!!

summary: in which (1) ace, a nobleman, desperately wants to be more than just the earl you and deuce serve; (2) deuce, a knight, doesn't how to get not just one but two people to fall in love with him; and (3) you, a fairy, try to push ace and deuce together while ignoring your own feelings for them

tags: gender neutral reader (only you is used), sfw, fluff, knight x nobility x fairy, commoner x nobility, poly relationship, getting together fic, 8.3k+ words, not beta read, completed (division by "chapters" = just a stylistic choice)

The young Lord Ace Trappola was a nobleman people found difficulty understanding. The new earl—and how new he truly was; how unexpected, too—was many things all at once and, depending on who was asked, they would all have something different to say in regards to the gentleman.

For instance, some would say he was no gentleman at all—some being a past love, who claimed she had never really felt his love for her at all. It was not too uncommon for nobles to abandon their old partner one way or another, but it did dishearten those in society seeking to become his marriage candidate.

Others, specifically his old schoolmates from the academy, would call him clever and cheery but a little too carefree, so much so that they were surprised he had been declared not just the heir, but had taken hold of the position the moment he left his youth. Was it the truth, that he was that kind of character? Yes, though it did give way to less than savory questions regarding his inexperience and capabilities.

Finally, though said noble would not know until later how the rumor had been birthed, it was said that he was a man who had deceived everyone magnificently into thinking he was who he presented himself to the public. As to who or what he truly was, nobody could quite agree. There were those that argued he was the manipulative sort, perhaps one who dabbled in illegal magic, for how else could he ascend to his position so quickly? There were those, too, who had proposed that perhaps their household had something to hide, that the young Trappola was simply a dutiful son to his father.

A small, terribly small group, however, would argue that the truth behind Ace Trappola was that he…

“Good morning My Lord!” Ace looked up from his desk, immediately abandoning his work. It’s not that he’s particularly excited or anything, but he sure does think that his two faithful attendants are far more fun than any scroll or sheet of paper could be.

Former delinquent turned knight, his right-hand man Deuce Spade had a serious look on his face despite the jolly greeting. Beside him was you, his right-hand’s right-hand, a fairy who greeted him in a calm but elegant manner. The juxtaposition between his two aides had surprised him once-upon-a-time, but he’d come to realize that they were far better suited to each other than he had initially realized.

“Lock the doors, then be at ease,” he ordered. Though he did not care much for appearing particularly prim or proper, the idea of being walked in on while he conversed with his two companions did not appeal to him either.

“Slacking again, Lord Trappola?” You peered over his shoulder, reading the documents he had atop his table. “Household affairs? New knightings? Isn’t that mere child’s play for you? You could very likely finish all of those in one go.”

“If I accomplish all of it in one sitting, they will think it a sign to pile more work for me the day after,” he explained, as though it were common sense. “It’s better to slack off a little bit sometimes. I understand I’m quite capable, but I detest people who push all their work onto others.”

“There, there. You can let your worries out with me,” you laughed at him, fingers combing through his unkempt hair as you did so. It was an action he always distinguished from his father and brother, who would purposefully ruffle it, or Deuce, who accidentally chopped a portion off with his sword.

He used to think it was out of pity, once, or some kind of disapproval, the way you could bicker and banter with Deuce but hesitated to do the same with him. However, nowadays it was easy to tell that it was your way of empathizing with him. That good-naturedness of yours was probably why Deuce clung to you, too. “Let’s have you spar with Deuce so you can catch a break.”

“Exactly what I was thinking! Can you read minds or something? You know I don’t know much about fairies.”

“You just so happen to be an open book, Deuce. If I had come to possess that kind of ability, though…” Ace knew you were merely being humorous, an attempt at getting a laugh out of him and a way to tease Deuce, but he did shiver the slightest bit as you laughed ominously. Just what would you do given that kind of power? “Though not quite fairy, I have heard of a fae that can see people’s dreams… Or was it manipulate? I can’t quite recall.”

“If someone were to see my dreams…” Deuce blanched, and Ace found himself curious by the reaction. By the looks of it, you were curious, too. Ace’s dreams tended to be the nonsensical sort—that or he could never remember them at all save for a detail or two, like how you or Deuce or even some old schoolmates from the academy would simply appear.

“Now that you mention it, I do remember you sleep talking.” You looked away from Deuce and back to him, fingers still weaving through his hair. “There was a night, when Deuce and I were still wanderers, where…”

Cruel, Ace thought to himself, smiling, the good-natured fairy could tease the poor knight again and again.

“You truly are incapable of not embarrassing me at every opportunity, especially in front of our liege,” the blue haired man huffed, though he hardly seemed frustrated. On the contrary, his gaze had gone through a fiery change, as though engaged in a new competition. “If we are to compare sleeping habits, then yours–”

“Are not as worse, I am certain.” In truth, Ace was unsure if you were being truthful, but that aside–

“Oho, feel free to argue and spill your deepest secrets in front of me~ Although…” he feigned a sigh, “did the two of you forget my presence? Or that I know nothing of either of your sleeping patterns?” Or that it was considered inappropriate to so much as discuss nighttime activities, no matter how innocent? Ace could not say he was against it, however, having always been less… traditional, he supposed.

At his words, neither you nor Deuce had the decency to be embarrassed, though the latter made a genuine attempt at appearing to be. Clearly he had done a good job of keeping things as casual and comfortable as possible, even with the imbalance of power. That he could not erase, but at the very least he would feel much better if it could be ignored.

“Ahem, so are you up for it, Ace? The sparring? It could be good practice for the upcoming tournament.” Deuce had been leaning against the door as he said it, but he jolted up as he’d come to realize his informality. “Or, uh, Lord Ace? No, should it be Lord Trappola?”

Never mind. Perhaps some work still needed to be done, after all.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ace said quickly, hoping to elucidate the matter. The previous topic had not been forgotten, but perhaps he would be able to bring the matter up at a different time. “It’s just the three of us right now. Isn’t it exhausting being so formal all the time?”

“I guess that’s fair,” Deuce replied, “although I have a feeling I’ll call you the wrong thing in public.”

“Mhm, it’s the same for me, which is why I’m avoiding forgoing the title,” you sighed, “we’d cause quite the scandal if we so much as fumble–”

“Like I said, it doesn’t matter!” Ace snorted, “What do they care? You’re my people, so if they have a problem with how I let the two of you address me, then they should bring it up with the Earl of Trappola himself!”

For the most part, he had been serious with his proclamation—the formalities were starting to get to him, and he’d prefer to maintain Deuce’s casualness with him; has been meaning to convert you into dropping the titles, too. However, the way Deuce blinked up at him and the way you began clapping made it feel as though he had put on some performance instead, a rare show of his nobility.

“Our Lord… is a noble too, after all,” Deuce said with disbelief—Ace thought it to be feigned, though a small part of him wondered if it was genuine. You followed suit with a slow nod of your head.

“We made the right choice of pledging our loyalty to him after all.”

“Hah?” Ace scratched his head, inevitably messing with what you had worked to fix. “Seriously, would the me of the past have guessed the two outsiders I brought into my estate would become the bane of my existence?”

He had said as much, though he knew—and he knew that his two attendants knew, too—that no regrets had been brought in with said decision.

Deuce Spade enjoyed the life he was currently living.

It was a stark contrast to the life he possessed back home, his troublesome ways before he stowed away on that boat, before he crossed paths with you in that forest, before the two of you somehow wound up in the Trappola estate.

It was a tough life and he had ways to go before he could show his face to his mother, but it was a life he could finally be proud of, a life that was his.

Which was why he trained intensively and persistently, the need to prove his resolve not simply to the world, but to the people who he cherished in that world—the parent who awaited his letters every week, whom he lived for, and the two he swore to protect, whom he would lay down his life for…

But he knew you would be angered to hear such a bold statement, and the noble he was guarding would ask how he grew to become so serious, so he supposed he would have to keep his perspective a secret.

He thanked the Queen and whatever deities there were up there that you could not read minds, or see dreams for that matter. How troubling would it have been for him if you knew how his affections had grown for you and for–

“Oh, is that for Ace?”

Though he supposed you already knew of that, thus he only had his feelings for you being leaked to be worried about. Not that he was not worried about his feelings for Ace being made known—both, both were cause of worry. The mere idea of him being fond of two people should have been troubling, what more that one was his close companion and the other his liege?!

“Ace? Is that right?” he said with a stifled chuckle, “Were you not the one who wanted to address him properly?”

“What could you possibly mean? I could never! Well, if you pretend you did not hear my informality, that is.” Stepping closer and fully entering his quarters, you peered over his shoulder, eyeing the soft fabric carefully. You prodded a finger at the handkerchief, tracing his attempt at embroidery. “You have gotten better! The heart is cute.”

“Only in the front. You should see how badly I fumbled the back,” he said, showing you the messy stitching himself. Still, he knew progress was progress, and he gleamed at you having taken notice of his hard work. “Whoever could have guessed that years of watching my mother stitch my clothes back together would be of use for this very reason?”

“I’m sure she would be proud to see your work so far.”

Genuine. That was always something he enjoyed about you—genuine in your actions, genuine in your words. Thinking about it, it was somewhat humorous that he had come to like Ace Trappola too despite his selective dishonesty. He supposed, at the end of the day, it had to do with his honed ability to detect those with immoral intentions, the inherent lack of such within the two of you.

Surrounded by people who were good to him, he often found himself thinking he could finally be on the right path—the path of becoming someone good for his mother.

“It might be nice to have one sent to her as well, though not yet,” Deuce replied sheepishly, “even though I worked hard on this one, it seems practice is still needed on my end.”

“I believe in you. What is a needle if not a small sword? What are stitches if not… hmm… different techniques using the needle, just as stances and movements are to battle?” Even you seemed unsure about the last analogy. Nevertheless, it had made Deuce laugh, your intentions in uplifting his spirits effective as always.

“More like things you must get after a battle,” he retorted, shaking his head. “Given the topic, it should be appropriate to ask… How’s your progress?”

“Progress with…?”

“Your token!” he reminded, finding you silly for forgetting. “You’ve chosen to craft an amulet, right?”

“I did say that, yes. It seemed fitting given magic is my specialty, even though handkerchiefs and ribbons seem to be the norm in society these days. I’ve yet to review the rules, though, so perhaps no spells can be imbued yet,” you sighed, “So should I give something, an amulet or some kind of charm would be good.”

By now, he could say he knew you rather well, and he knew that while you did your best to be truthful with him, you did not exactly shy away from allowing people to interpret your words differently. Sometimes, you seem to want to be misunderstood.

It’s just too bad that he caught and understood your choice of wording.

“What do you mean by should you? Did we not agree we were both giving Ace something?”

You shrugged. “Would it not be better if, oh, perhaps you were the only one to give him a gift?”

“But we both care for him as our liege and as his… friends? Companions? Whatever the appropriate term may be, we are that to him and he is that to us. Certainly he would appreciate getting something from you?” he reasoned, an attempt at convincing you to continue as planned.

“Yes, but you like him. I am able to give him a token at some other time surely, but for now… I don’t see how my giving him anything will aid in my mission to help you convey your feelings–oh don’t look at me like that, fine, your appreciation for him.”

He huffed out your name, willing to argue with you about the situation if he really needed to, but after staring you down the best he could whilst looking up at you, you eventually relented, as though carrying a soft spot for him, or for Ace.

Likelihood was that it was both.

“I will consider it, but don’t mention anything. In any case, since I’m banned from competing due to the humans-only stipulation, hmph, I’ll give you a token. Since you’ll be competing for the both of us.”

Deuce finally smiled. He would still try to make sure you handed Ace one as well, but for now he would pretend to be satisfied with his small victory.

“If–When I win, I’ll make sure Ace knows it’ll be on both of our behalves.”

You cannot stop yourself from smiling as well. “Have I ever told you I was thankful? That you are always trying to include me in things, even with matters in regards to Ace? Even when I’m not actually one of his knights?”

It’s because I like you too, you foolish fairy!

“Because you are our resident fairy and perhaps the best magic user in the estate,” he proclaimed. Always the first to tease you, always the first to praise you.

“Well if you put it that way,” you chuckled, “and since you are being so terribly kind to me today, I’ll put in the effort to defend you should the young lord throw a fit about his own knight beating him in the tournament… and of course, I shall comfort you should you throw a fit should you lose to him.”

“So win or lose, it will be a lose-lose situation. Absolutely wonderful!” He had only been joking, truly, but you gave him a slight nudge at the comment.

“Just do your best regardless!”

You laughed, a warmth not unlike the sunlight peeking from the woodlands the day he first met you.

“Besides, you have a goal when you win, don’t you?”

Momentarily bashful, determination soon replaced it. Fears and anxieties aside, Deuce knew that should he win, the adrenaline would certainly convince him to profess his adoration and devotion to their earl and, unbeknownst to you, their fairy.

“A confession.”

“Oh, for sure, but that should only be the first step!” you encouraged, always the first to aid him in his lofty ambitions. “Have you considered marriage? Or a grand trip to another nation? I heard the Sunset Savanna is lovely this time of year.”

He snorted, “Perhaps nobility move faster than us commoners, but I find a proposal would be too sudden even for human standards. However… A trip does sound nice.”

“Does it not? Ah, but should you go about one in the future, I’ll lock you both out of the manor if you fail to bring me a souvenir.”

“I cannot speak for Ace, but… Oh, I might as well—Ace will certainly lock you out of the manor should you refuse to come with us!”

“You shall be there to help me back inside.”

“Wrong! As a matter of fact, I will be present to drag you in the carriage with us.” He was being quite serious, but you laughed at his apparent persistence.

“All three of us stuck in a carriage, perhaps even a boat or two, for weeks,” you were groaning with feigned displeasure, but when you told him it’d likely be good fun, he could tell even you couldn’t lie to yourself there, that you enjoyed their company as much as he, and to speak for someone else, and Ace did.

But as much as he enjoyed having you around, he also knew that with you being in his room, any more progress for the day was pretty much impossible. Ace’s aside, he’s going to have a hard time starting on your handkerchief anytime soon if you’re going to remain a frequent visitor.

Ace knew he carried a certain attitude about the work assigned to him. He knew, despite the loyalty of those in his estate, his detractors would call him all sorts of insults, deprecate him and his character, see him as nothing more than a young man who cared not for aged tradition and stiff nobility, and had no ability to command and control his territory.

Ability aside, he simply never cared to accomplish them immediately as opposed to pacing them according to his tastes.

Thus, he would do as he wished, just as his ancestors would’ve before him. After all, would his family have become, and stayed for that matter, nobles if they had continued to abide by what was expected?

If anything, would it not be expected of him to differ from the rest of them? A smart person would, he believed.

Which was why he found himself in the markets again, not bothering to put on any sort of disguise. He grew up visiting the nearby towns anyway, with some of the vendors having practically raised him since childhood, so really, what was the point?

“I’m still not convinced this is the best idea,” Deuce sighed, following him a little too far for his liking, “not that my opinion should matter. What you say goes, Lord Ace!”

“You have gotten comfortable enough with me to complain about the tasks I give you, but not comfortable enough to walk a centimeter closer or call me by my given name alone,” Ace teased, putting on a show of scolding his knight. “Your perception of what is more egregious between the three astounds me.”

“It is one thing for you to be alright with it, it is another for the prying ears to be. If it were only up to me, I would talk quite informally to you, too.” Ace need not question who too was referring to, for there was only one other person in the estate Deuce relied on to the extent of comfort: you.

“And I’ve let you change the subject… Really, what will happen if an assassin, or someone who wants to cause you harm, comes across you in broad daylight?”

“Then you’ll deal with them! Although… I may be able to protect myself better than you, hmm?” he laughed, shaking his head at the slight irritation Deuce attempted to hide. He could not get back at him now, but Ace was sure Deuce would attempt to do so the next time they were on the training grounds. “And perhaps I wished to change the subject of our conversation.”

“To?”

“You, perhaps. Our one and only fairy as well, possibly.”

Except, despite his wording, he was positively assured of his choices. Discussing the two of them—well, the three of you, was always a difficult affair when you were around, and Ace is not dense enough to not detect your affection and yet avoidance of him, the scheming nature you seem to possess and yet hold back in front of him but fully show towards Deuce.

He never needed a companion during his trips out, sometimes preferred not to have one, so perhaps his invitation carried impure intentions.

Deuce stiffened and though he tried to pass it off as a simple response to his surroundings, Ace knew better. What could have rendered such a reaction? Was it a secret you, or him, or the both of you together, were hiding? Was it something he ought not to know but would undoubtedly weed out right this second?

“What could you possibly want to know?” his knight inquired, seemingly nervous around him. How uncharacteristic.

“A few things. For starters… There’s something wrong.”

“With what?”

Your name left Ace’s lips. Even to his ears it sounded a bit awkward, like he knew how to say it but barely uttered it outside of his head, at least compared to how Deuce would say it—undoubtedly familiar with you in a way he, too, wanted to be. It’s only then that Ace realized his hypocrisy… or, if hypocrisy was too strong a description, then the humor with the two of you.

His insistence at being just Ace and not Earl Ace or Lord Trappola, yet his persistence in calling you their fairy, their magician.

Maybe it’s the need to remind himself that you’re one of his people, too, without having to commit to actually saying it. Maybe it’s his way of letting you know of your presence in his life, considering you always seemed so insistent on downplaying your importance to him and, if his eyes are working as clearly as he thinks, to Deuce as well.

Really, did you think he played favorites? Because he did, obviously, but the plurality implied he certainly had more than one! For such a scheming being, were you not oddly dense?

“I see…” Deuce muttered. With a hint of embarrassment, Ace figured the knight actually understood, if not completely then partially, his troubles when it came to you. “What could I… Is there any way for me to help?”

Cute. He’d rather gouge his eyes out than admit he thinks it unironically, but he still remembers the rascal that appeared in front of his manor, all roughed up with a scary but determined look on his face. Seeing Deuce be so thoughtful and kind when it comes to both him and you is just plain nice—the heavens know the world needs more people like that around him… and in noble society in general, but he’d rather not share with them.

“Help?”

“With, you know… I could give you advice, or–”

Ace sighed. Speaking of dense… Is there even a good way to say, ‘If the two of you haven’t noticed, I have a severe, desperate need to infiltrate and be a part of whatever it is the two of you have’ without being perceived as rude, or worse, a complete nutter.

Not being able to think of anything, he reluctantly changed the subject.

“Let’s go look around the market. Help the local economy! Purchase a few things for ourselves.”

The man next to him narrowed his eyes, and for a moment Ace genuinely worried that Deuce realized everything. Sure, he mocked the two of you in his head for not understanding him, but he certainly was not ready to reveal anything! Especially without any assurance from either involved party!

The knight did not utter another word for a while, simply guiding him through the stalls, prattling about things you enjoyed. Alongside him, the earl absorbed every piece of information, all the while watching whatever it was the Deuce’s eyes landed on for more than a few seconds.

Ace, whether he was aware of it or not, harbored feelings for you, Deuce was sure of it. He had his assumptions beforehand, mostly due to his increasing number of delusions of all three of you. In any case, there was no doubt in his mind now—he was not alone in harboring feelings for you.

On one hand, he could not blame Ace. You were, for all intents and purposes, his first friend, a cherished friend, thus he understood how the earl could fall for you. If anything, he’s going as far as applauding the choice. If anyone deserves love and adoration, of course it should be you!

On the other hand, he’s reminded of his own troubles. If Ace is troubled with getting you to be more comfortable and closer to him, Deuce is troubled with getting not one, but two people to miraculously like him in the same manner he does. Meanwhile, Deuce can’t even tell if you like either one of them that way! It’s just a mess, truthfully, one he cannot speak of lest all three of you end up in a scandal, so he can do nothing but keep quiet…

Alright, perhaps that was not entirely true. There was something he could do.

“That’s a nice color,” Deuce commented. He can’t really differentiate the stones when they’re all round and smoothed out so he’s not sure if you’re holding a jasper or a carnelian (names he knows only because you had a knack for buying all sorts of stones) or something else entirely, but it’s this blend of orange and red and he knew it was chosen for a reason.

You smiled at him fondly, knowingly, “I’m not surprised you like the color. It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re already aware of what I think.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop with the teasing.” You abide by your word, dropping your stare so you could focus on the task at hand—creating an amulet for Ace. “It can’t be helped that I cannot resist either one of you.”

“Then don’t! Did either of us ever imply that you should do as such?” he huffed, “I know for certain that Ace—”

“That I would what, exactly?”

As though caught in the midst of an immoral act, Deuce scrambled to hide everything as quickly as possible for you, shoving the stone in the nearest box he could open. Meanwhile, you were left to face Ace, who made no show of being even the slightest bit apologetic for his intrusion.

“Aren’t nobles meant to have perfect etiquette?” Were you smiling? Yes. Did you look amused? Not particularly. “I’m always happy to see you, Ace, but I can’t say for certain that I appreciate your storming in my quarters without so much as a knock on the door.”

“You don’t look particularly happy right now.” Ace, by contrast, looked particularly happy at your slip up, and Deuce would do his part in not calling you out on it… until Ace left, of course.

But the earl seemed to have no intentions of doing so any time soon, propping himself up against the now-shut door.

“I’m perfectly happy, for sure,” you insisted, and though your face was not betraying it, Deuce thought you truly meant it. “But what are you doing here? You’ve never visited my room before.”

“I meant to look for Deuce to see if he wanted to train–”

You and Deuce locked eyes instantly. You’re trying not to make your change in expression too noticeable, but Deuce has observed you far too many times to not notice. It’s incredibly evident that it embarrassed him, almost, that you could be so happy for him because of something so very simple.

It was a childish sort of glee, which might have been why he accepted it so readily. He never had the chance to experience that sort of situation and he’s not too sure you have either, having a laugh with someone over some puppy love.

“He’s certainly free to do so,” you supplied, “if you want to, you’re free to take him off my hands right now.”

“Ah, but I’ve changed my mind. We train every day, so we should have a change of pace, should we not? Perhaps the tavern that opened the week prior?”

“Hmm, should you really be forgoing training? The current victor of the tournament, the young Rosehearts, will be competing, too.” you interjected. It’s not an outright rejection of a suggestion, but Ace should have prepared a better excuse if this was his plan all along, thought Deuce. Still, he was currently his liege’s number one supporter—more time spent with the both of you? He could not see it as anything but a positive for all parties involved.

“Oh please! What’s one day spent with my two companions instead of training until sundown?” Ace snorted, “And it was different last year! This year, my victory against the young duke is certain.”

“To be sure,” Deuce replied immediately, half out of belief and half out of solidarity of having lost to the same man. Next to him, you nodded your head slowly.

“Then if you’re certain…” What you said about not being able to resist Ace and Deuce must have been true, your reluctance at heading out visibly fading. This time, it’s Ace and Deuce who exchanged a knowing glance, and the same, childish feeling bubbled up within him again.

It’s not quite the trip to the other nation you mentioned to him, but it’s a delightful start, is it not?

“Then the both of you better get changed!” Ace grinned boyishly, “Or don’t! Regardless, I’ll have the carriage prepared by five!”

“Wait a moment, shouldn’t we be calling the carriage for you?!” you exclaimed, but the earl had already left your quarters. “Good riddance. Deuce, could I have the amulet I was working on back? We have some time before we need to leave and… I have the sinking suspicion he won’t leave us alone before the next few days.”

“Definitely. To both statements.” Remembering where he had placed it, he opened up the wooden box to retrieve the stone, only to be distracted by an already completed amulet—a nice blue that reminded him awfully of… ah.

“Deuce? The amulet?” you asked again, shaking him out of his reverie.

“Here.” If you notice anything odd about his expression you do not speak of it, allowing him to leave your room peacefully to ready himself for the awaited excursion.

“I told Deuce I would comfort him should he lose to you… I can’t say I expected this turn of events instead.”

Perhaps Ace should have trained more.

In his defense, he did not think Riddle Rosehearts would have done that well in the tournament considering there were no horses to ride on this season. His athleticism was never the best either during their days at the academy, so even if his swings were passable, his stamina should have run out quickly enough. And yet…

“But next year surely, my liege,” you comforted him, wiping the sweat off of him with a white handkerchief, uncaring of the fact that the both of you were in public or, perhaps, knowing everyone’s eyes would be on the ongoing match rather than the two of you. Even though Ace prided himself of being the (self-designated) mature person amongst the three of you, he did not say no to the opportunity of receiving your attention and affection.

“Besides, not all hope is lost. We can still have the winner come from our house.”

Our house. Ace gleamed at your words. Of course. The ideal situation would have been to face off against his knight, but as much as he wanted to be the winner, Deuce being the victor would have been just as much of a joyous affair for the Trappola Earldom.

“If our Deucey wins, he’ll never let me forget it,” he sighed.

“But it would be worth it, having someone to avenge you, wouldn’t it?” Seemingly having deemed him presentable enough, your hands returned to your lap, handkerchief in tow. It's only then that Ace realizes it.

“Deuce gave you one too,” he said, more amused than anything. “What’d he sew for you?”

You didn't respond but you did smile, so it was likely something meaningful to you. If you were happy, then Deuce must have done a good job at choosing something for you, just as he chose something that well-suited him.

“He did not have to. I’m not competing in this tournament, so…” Again, Ace thought, you were smiling, so what did it matter if Deuce did not have to. Could people not act based on wants, now?

“And yet you’re using it, just as you’re wearing the tassel I gave you.” He grinned, fingers flicking the fringes the color you loved most, allegedly. If Deuce gave him the right information. You liked it enough to keep it on you, at least. “The tassel I did not have to get you.”

“It’s nice. They’re both nice gifts,” you murmured, and even though you’re no longer meeting his gaze he can still tell that you’re being honest. A part of him will attribute it to his amazing observation skills, but another, far warmer part of him knows it’s because he’s gotten to know you better.

The two of you are already by his side, closer than before, and yet it is still not enough.

“What design did Deuce sew for your handkerchief?”

“Don’t pretend like you do not know.” For he knew for a fact that Deuce must have shared it with you, or at the very least failed to hide it from you (just as he failed to hide his tokens from Deuce).

“Then what do you think of it?”

He brought it out of his breast pocket, having tucked it in there before his matches began.

“The hearts are differing in sizes. You can tell there were loose threads he tried cutting as much as possible without ruining the whole work. Still, there are hearts, the symbol of Trappola.” The symbol of Deuce’s dedication and loyalty.

“It’s… I suppose it’s—” You threw him a look, and Ace reluctantly gave in, “—It is good. Give me a break! Nobles tend to have a hard time being honest, you know! If you think I’m bad, you ought to see the rest of them!”

You laughed, “I know, I know. I won’t tell. You should do it by yourself, after all.”

“Only if he wins,” he said, grinning.

“So I’ll tell him for you if he loses?”

“A menace, you are,” he muttered, “I’ll tell him you thought he would lose, then.”

You no longer respond to his taunt, eyes now stuck to the grounds, clearly waiting for a certain blue-haired knight to appear before everyone’s very eyes, but your hands are moving, reaching into one of your pockets as though searching for something.

“I meant to give you something as well,” you said, pulling out two amulets. The stones are different in color, different in shape, but the similar craftsmanship all lead to one creator—you. “I’m aware these types of tokens tend to be given out before the matches, for good luck of course, but I’ve gone and imbued magic so I couldn’t take the risk of disqualification, and thus…”

You’re explaining. Overexplaining, really, in Ace’s humble opinion, every possible meaning you could think of—the importance of the stone’s color, the stone itself, what rune’s been inlaid and what spells you’ve enchanted it with. It’s detailed and clearly an overly complicated process and yes, he cannot deny that his heart is not unaffected by the gesture, but looking at the clearly matching amulets just makes him laugh.

He snatches the red one out of your waiting hand, knowing what was clearly meant for him. His heart had just calmed down and yet it is full again.

So he might have been dense too, but at least he was the first to figure it out. That is a victory in and of itself, one he is never going to forget and let go of. Ever.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing!” He’s thumbing the amulet within his palm, invigorated despite his loss earlier. Even with the magic, he doubts it’s the stone’s doing. “Just thinking of how entertaining things will be from here on out.”

“Because of the match?”

“Sure,” Ace laughed, “because of the match.”

“I still got further into the competition than you,” Deuce argued, nursing his own injuries with one hand and… holding onto your amulet with the other hand. The injured hand. He justified it by saying it was because the amulet had healing properties, as you said, but he was just busy admiring it and thinking of a way to combine it with his (Ace’s) tassel to make a combined good luck charm of some sort.

“Second place is still the first place loser, Loosey-Deucey” mocked Ace, though not out of ill-intent. He knows malice is not at all there by the way he patted him on the back after his duel, the way he beamed at his progress, the way he promised to train harder with him so either one of them could take the young duke down. It’s the sincerity before everything else that makes him take everything he says with a grain of salt.

You seemed to understand all the same, simply allowing the two to go at it with each other since they were unable to do so officially.

“It does not matter. I would have won if it was a competition of fists over swords,” Deuce laughed, “it’s just a shame. There was something I wanted to do if I won, but since I lost, I don’t have it in me to proceed.”

“Pray tell, what could that possibly be, dear Deuce?”

He stared the earl down, shaking his head vehemently. “Absolutely not. You can find out when I win next year, my liege.”

“Is that so?” Ace asked, quirked eyebrow, almost as if he interpreted his personal oath as a challenge to beat. “And if I win instead of you, will you not go about completing this quest of yours?”

Beside him, you stood up.

“Perhaps I should set off—”

“Absolutely not!” Ace interjected just as Deuce reached out to stop you from moving, hand grasping your arm. There’s a momentary confusion—he knows why he stopped you from moving, you and your assumptions on this and that occurring between him and Ace and you wanting to step away from it, but Ace stopping you is…

“Hold on, should I leave?”

“What, no! Nobody’s leaving! I’m not getting up from here either! Are the two of you truly oblivious or are you playing oblivious?” Ace groaned, scrunching up his nose in distress. “Why is being the smartest person in the room such a difficult affair?”

“Rude,” Deuce muttered, before quickly inquiring, “but to what are you referring to?”

Instead of words, Ace made an odd motion with his hands, some triangular gesture that was clearly meant to speak louder than words.

Deuce wants to laugh because it’s an amusing action for a nobleman to be making but humorously, it works well in getting Deuce to understand. It was to be expected, considering he spent much of his time thinking of this exact scenario (albeit, a setting more romantic than the manor’s medical ward, but he’s not in a position to be fussy about the details). He’s trying to catch your eye immediately, but compared to him, you just seem… confused.

Not confused in the sense that you did not understand what Ace was referring to—there was no subtlety in his implications—but more so a general confusion over what was happening.

“I know about Deuce’s feelings, quite obviously, and I was more than certain that his feelings for you had a chance of being reciprocated, so my being here…”

Deuce cannot help himself anymore, and it appears neither can Ace as they both erupt into laughter of chaos and disbelief. Who or what they are laughing at is not a question—it is everything, and then themselves for their own, self-induced stupidity and suffering.

“I get that it might not have been obvious with me, but with Deuce?” Ace exclaimed, astounded at how you failed to realize the knight’s affections. “He could not have made it any more obvious if he tried!”

“Sorry? It’s quite difficult to determine gratefulness versus love versus love…

“And let’s not be a hypocrite as I could say the same for you, my lord! I thought Deuce was plenty obvious about his feelings, and yet, if I am right in regards to the timing of this affair, you’ve just realized it recently,” you huffed, “we are one in the same.”

Deuce stops laughing. Why did it feel like the two of you were blaming him for your respective lack of analytical skills?!

“As long as we agree that’s not my fault! If I was incredibly obvious, as the two of you would put it, the two of you are anything but.” But with Deuce’s insistence, the two of you turn to look at him as though he had grown a second head.

“What? No! We could make an argument for Ace as I was only mostly sure that your feelings for him were reciprocated, but I hardly made any effort to conceal my own.”

“Agreed. It was as clear as day to the point that I thought the two of you had already gotten into a relationship,” laughed Ace, probably the most honest he was going to be for the rest of the day, “and without me! I was quite offended at the thought of being excluded.”

“Like we could ever leave you be, my lord,” you replied, half a joke but fully the truth. “What would have become of us without you in the first place?”

“Like you would ever let us leave you be,” Deuce quipped, having finally absorbed the situation. If it was an accurate assessment, Ace had no plans of letting them know, merely grinning in response. “What would become of you had we not arrived at your estate?”

“Well there would be far less rumors about me, for one.” Still, the Earl Trappola will remain himself, the need to appear as though he had the upper hand when they all knew the feelings shared between them were of equal measure. Still, with a singular gesture, the two of them walk towards their liege—amulet clanging against his remaining armor, tassels swaying with your very steps.

“But who cares about that, right?” Deuce replied, knowing it would be what Ace wished to hear—after all, he’d been pretty apparent about it since day one. As they neared him, Ace pulled them closer, making sure the both of them sat on either side of him.

Then, Deuce heard the door lock. Ace and Deuce both turned to you, the obvious culprit, and you merely shrugged. “I know we’re not supposed to care, but let’s not cause a scandal today of all days! Who knows how many prying eyes there are in the estate!”

“Too many. Don’t be surprised if a strongly worded, but supportive, letter from either father or my brother arrives at our doorstep tomorrow morning,” Ace snorted, “Just hope it’s not some distant relative. I’m sure there are some spies prowling in our manor as we speak.”

“There won’t be any if we deal with them!” Deuce declared, “We’ll protect your dignity, my lord!”

You nod in agreement just as Ace smiles. “I’ll hold you two to that!”

There are other things Deuce wants to declare, to ask and to question. He wants to know what they are now, what will change between the three of them, and what will be of them in the future. He wants to ask and yet it doesn’t feel quite right, not now, perhaps because he already knows, and what he knows is not mere fantasy but reality.

Dear Madam, Good day to you. I hope you do not mind if I skip the formalities. Until this fairy learns how to send letters with magic alone, the cost of these letters will unfortunately be priced according to how many sheets of paper we use up. In any case, Deuce must have updated you about everything that has happened in his letters. He must have also mentioned that the earl and I will be sending you letters to ask for your permission or blessing or whatever word it had been that the earl had used. In truth, we had been mostly joking regarding that. Ace—the earl—does not believe that the process of seeing one another requires permission from one’s parents, he is far from traditional, but we had come to the agreement to push through with the letters first due to the unusual state of our relationship—that being that we are all seeing one another, with one party not being human and another one being the noble we serve. Foremost, we agreed to send our letters out of respect for you, as we’ve long known what you mean to our knight, and what he means to you, his mother. As previously mentioned, I believe Deuce has told you much of our household affairs and much of his life, but I believe you would appreciate knowing how we see him. I am certain you know that your son spends much of his time training to become a splendid knight, and I am sure you would be happy to know that, day by day, he arrives closer to his goal. It would only make sense considering his sparring partner is none other than our competitive lord as well (and tell not the earl, too, but after keeping track of their victories and defeats, Deuce may have a lead on the tally). His skills are not which I wish to share the most, however. Ace and I have learned from Deuce about his past, we’ve known for some time now. Constant is his worry, just as constant is his change. His warmth and the good of his heart has become more evident than ever, and should Deuce not come to see you soon, we will be the ones to present him to you. (A mere jest. If it were Ace, he would find a way to bring you to the earldom.) That is all I can say for now. With your approval, madam, I hope we could become close correspondents. I would love to tell you more about Deuce, Ace, and myself, as well as know more about you yourself. Faithfully yours,

Ace’s arm wraps against your shoulder just as you’re signing the letter off with your name, loudly talking your ear off about how he just won against Deuce (as expected, he tells you). It’s a tie now, though you know you won’t correct the tally you mentioned in your letter.

Deuce, meanwhile, chalks it all up to luck, some sleight of hand the earl must have pulled, and swears he’ll beat him tomorrow. You want to tell Deuce to try twice as hard, just so you won’t tell his mother a lie. Instead, you joke that they both need to try harder else you come out as next year’s victor.

They’re shouting now, mostly about how you’ve finally picked up their competitive spirit, about how you’re challenging them, about how they won’t go easy on you and about how you shouldn’t go easy on them. It’s a whole lot of noise one after another but, unsurprisingly, it fits your very idea of a peaceful day.

“You’re smiling. Is that your way of saying you’re confident you’ll beat us?” You stare at Ace for a moment, wondering if you’ll lie, before shaking your head.

“Not at all. I’m just happy.”

You don’t play it for laughs or take it back, finding comfort in the fact that you can leave the truth just as that.

“What has made you so softhearted, huh?” You know you’ve got them when Ace can only scratch his neck and Deuce can only cover his ears, perhaps knowing it would match the hue of his liege’s hair. “As long as you're happy, then.”

It’s a rare moment of silence in the estate, and while you know one of the three of you will break it soon enough, you appreciate it while it lasts. You think to yourself, even the quiet can be peaceful, too. Peace is, and yet beyond, the volume of one’s chatter, the clashing of their swords; the quietness of their breaths and the unheard beat of their hearts.

Beyond sound, peace is a place, a place you have found with them.

end notes | masterlist

[ 1 ] Decided to just leave the details about Reader’s tassel (from Ace) and handkerchief (from Deuce) blank, mostly since I didn’t feel too comfortable assigning something for them.

[ 2 ] As per my research, “In the Regency period (1811 - 1820) it was very expensive to send a letter. The cost of postage could be as much as a day's wages for a working man”. Of course, Deuce and the Reader have Ace to pay for the letter since they’re all sending it together (and I am not going for historical accuracy, lol), but I figured they’d still be conscious to cut to the chase to write as much as possible per sheet of paper.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #ace trappola x reader x deuce spade #adeuyuu #twst imagines #twst #nathya twst writing #nathya comm pieces #twisted wonderland

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sanjoongie · 5 months

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𝚨 ꓝ୦𝜊￨ ꭵ𝗇 𝐋𝜊ꮩ𝒆

🤎A/N: Kicking off this month of revenge since it's Scorpio season is this beauty. Sometimes you just gotta torture you bestie @mejuii with her own professed weaknesses 😘 🤎Pairing: Lee Juyeon (The Boyz) x Reader (f) 🤎Au: Model au, Stylist au 🤎Genre: smut, angst 🤎Trope: unrequited love, oblivious to love 🤎Warnings: reader is mean to Juyeon (think tsundere), sub!juyeon, dom!reader, verbal instruction, oral (f), hair pulling (m), praise kink, hand kink 🤎Rated: 18+, MDNI 🤎Word Count: 1,727 🤎Summary: Juyeon is in love with you, his stylist, who degrades him at any chance she can get. But little did you know... all he wants you to do is order him around

🤎credit to @cafekitsune for the banner!

“Juyeon, you better stop looking at her like that, she’s going to bite your head off,” Sunwoo nudged the older man.

Juyeon sighed heavily. If only his stylist felt the same way about him as he felt about her. He watched as Sunwoo ran-walked to you and smiled happily as you fussed over his hair and makeup. Sunwoo gratuitously pushed his lips out as you rubbed some lip stain on his lips and you smacked his chest for leaning in too close. Sunwoo could afford to be playful with you but you would never let Juyeon act up like that. Where was the fairness in that?

Juyeon had a massive crush on you. Maybe he was stupid. Maybe he was attracted to the idea of a slightly toxic relationship. Maybe he really liked the twinkle in your eye you got when you talked to Sunwoo. Whatever it was, Juyeon wanted you to look at him like you looked at his model partner. But that never seemed to be a reality for Juyeon.

“Juyeon!” You barked for the model to come over and get inspected before they went back to shooting.

Juyeon’s long legs took him to your side pretty quickly. His effortless brain-empty grin pulled on his face as you took the handle end of a comb and moved some strands of his bangs. Your eyes were focused on the task at hand but you were chewing on your lip and Juyeon’s heart exploded. What he wouldn’t give to press his lips to yours, for you to giggle, and let him sweep you off your--

“Helloooo?” You snapped your fingers in front of Juyeon’s face. “Earth to Juyeon? I said I’m done.”

Juyeon moved to where Sunwoo was lounging on the set, fighting everything to not send a hurt look over his shoulder. Juyeon already knew you would give him a look as if he was a child and he’d regret it.

Sunwoo was cackling by the time Juyeon joined him. “You look like a dog with his tail between his legs.”

The next time Juyeon saw you was at his red carpet event with Fendi. You had walked into the room where Juyeon was preparing. What you had not expected was to walk in on that man in slacks and a silk top that draped on his form. His blazer was still hanging on the rack as he waited for you to do hair and makeup.

You stood there with your jaw on the floor until you managed to school your features before Juyeon turned around. Except it didn’t get better. Juyeon’s dark eyes looked down at you as you formulated a plan for his look.

“Sit in the chair so I don’t have to crane my damn neck and break it,” You barked.

Juyeon easily slid in the stylist chair, eyes still on you. “Do you like the top?” He asked. His big fingers rubbed the chain between the pads of his fingers.

“That’s none of my business,” You replied in a clipped tone and Juyeon’s face fell.

“Looks stupid, doesn’t it,” Juyeon lamented, “I knew it.”

“I--” Your mouth snapped shut. You hadn't actually intended to make Juyeon feel bad about his look, you just didn’t want to feed his ego… “It’s beautiful,” You said quietly.

Juyeon’s head snapped up, eyes meeting your own again. “Really?” he said, that casual, happy smile was on his lips again.

“The top,” You clarified, “With the blazer over it, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Juyeon let you do his makeup and then his hair in silence. You had to straddle his feet and legs a bit to style his hair and you froze when you felt one of his hands cup the back of your thigh to steady you. Fuck, his hands were huge.

“Juyeon,” You said, “Why is your hand on me?”

“You looked like you were going to tip over,” He said, somewhat innocently, but you could see the look in his eyes. Instead of the empty-head appearance, his eyes were sharper right now.

“Get them off,” You said in a clipped tone.

“Why?” Juyeon asked, putting his other hand on your opposite leg, “Do they bother you?”

“They do,” You said in a reserved tone, “Now get them off of me.”

“And why do they bother you?” Juyeon pushed.

You couldn't very well tell him that your entire body wanted his hands to cup your ass too, and kneed your cheeks, perhaps splitting them open as he thrust--You shook your head. Nooooo, that was not happening. “Because I need to move freely and you’re stopping that. Now. Let. Go.”

Juyeon did and you felt the tinge of regret and stuff it down; far, far down. And when you told him you were done, Juyeon stood up and you stumbled back to avoid touching him--which caused him to reach out and grab your upper arms. Would his entire hand grip harshly onto your arm as he thrusted into you or would he be soft and rub your arms as you--?

"Juyeon," You said in a sickly-sweet voice, "what are you doing?"

“You almost smashed your head on the glass!” Juyeon protested, eyebrows furrowing cutely.

“Remove your hands or I’ll knock you into your next life,” You threatened.

Juyeon looked so dejected as his hands left your body that you felt that stupid tinge of regret again that you thought you had buried. “You sure do listen well, for a man,” You found yourself admitting as you finally stepped away from the chair.

“I could listen real good for you,” Juyeon said.

You froze in disbelief. You turned around slowly. Juyeon met your eyes. “What did you say?”

“You reward Sunwoo for his bad behavior, but I could be really good for you. I would only do what you say I could do. I’d crawl for you if you ordered it. Wear a collar and leash for you, please--”

You threw your hands up to stop whatever was coming out of Juyeon’s mouth. It was…it was too tantalizing. “No, nope, stop that right now.”

“But--!” Juyeon had puppy dog eyes, pleading with you. Was this really what he wanted? And with you of all people???

“I am not--we cannot--Juyeon, I’m your stylist!!!” You objected.

“So what?” Juyeon raised his chin stubbornly.

You sputtered some more. “That’s unethical, that’s morally incorrect, that’s insane!”

Juyeon took a step forward. “You want to, don’t you?”

You took a step back. Damn it, wasn’t Juyeon supposed to be empty-headed? You cleared your throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Juyeon moved to his knees. “I will do whatever you want.”

You rolled your eyes. “Then crawl on your knees to me.”

Your eyes bulged out of your head when Juyeon did in fact do that. And once he arrived at your feet, he looked up at you. “Tell me what to do next.”

You let out a laugh because you couldn't help yourself. This was ridiculous. “Prop my leg up and kiss up my leg.”

Juyeon cupped your foot and put it atop his knee and began to lovingly kiss up your leg along your dark tights. Your lower half tightened inadvertently in anticipation. What was this fool doing to you?

While looking down your nose, you instructed Juyeon. “Lick my cunt through my tights and underwear.”

And didn’t Juyeon dive head first into your clothed pussy. Your plaid skirt was up to your hips now, Juyeon enthusiastically poking and prodding your cunt. His nose brushed your clit and you bit down hard on your lip. Only then did Juyeon stop, if only to plead with you. “Please, if I can’t kiss you, don’t bite your lip. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel.”

“No one can know, Juyeon,” You hissed.

Juyeon jutted out his lip but continued back with his task at hand. You grew frustrated and then bold with the need to feel more. “Rip my tights, Ju. Rip them and push my panties to the side. Be a good boy and make me cum with your tongue.”

Juyeon gripped your tights, and with a loud rip, made a hole in your crotch. His fingers reached through the hole and pushed your panties in the way. And then he really showed you how much he wanted you. That tongue circled your clit, making you buck your hips upwards. Your clit grew engorged from the pleasure and soon he was able to suck on the sensitive flesh, rough tongue flicking and tempting and pushing you towards your high.

You couldn't help yourself, your hands buried into his hair, part of you screaming that your good work was about to be ruined, and another part of you saying fuck it, you wanted to cum. "That's it, Ju, you're doing so good! Make me cum."

Juyeon moaned into your mound and then wrapped his arms around your thighs. He ate like a starved man, sucking, licking, nipping; whatever it took to make you cum. You came with a muffled cry in the back of your throat. In the height of your orgasm, you don't remember getting head like that ever.

Juyeon let go of your arms and sat back on the balls of his feet. You had praised him, finally. Juyeon couldn't do an awful lot in your eyes, but he could do this for you. Finally, he could be of use. "Was I good for you?" He asked, eyes hopeful of more praise.

You couldn't look at him, however. "I came, didn't I?" You said under your breath.

Juyeon grinned, the empty-head type that you normally hated. "I told you I would treat you good; that I could be good for you."

You shimmied your skirt back down your hips and pushed your hair behind your ear. "Yes, well, get back onto my chair. I need to fix your hair and makeup again," You grumbled.

“Does this mean you’ll start taking me for Taco Tuesdays with Sunwoo?” Juyeon wondered as he sat back down in your chair.

"Don't push your luck," You muttered, unconsciously tugging his hair into place a bit harder than normal; perhaps even just like you did when he was eating you out.

And Juyeon remained smiling the entire time you fixed him.

Taglist: @starlitmark look i finally wrote juju 🥺 thank you for all the help with the new formatting, you're neat 💞

#revember=revenge+november #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #cultofdionysusnet #the boyz smut #lee juyeon smut #tbz smut #juyeon smut #lee juyeon x reader #the boyz x reader #juyeon x reader #βtbz #topaz's work

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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C, I, K, L Q and Z for Jax plz? 👀

Fluff Alphabet w/ Jax! (1)

as of writing this i only have this request and one more!! i didnt think i would be able to catch up them all when i woke up this morning, but ive been killin it today i guess! yahoo! Im still taking requests but after this and the next ill take another short break to stretch my legs and recharge my brain !!

CUDDLING- if you read the caine alphabet, i believe i mention that caine would wrap his arms and legs around you and trap you (at least i did, im p sure i did but im too tired to check)

well, jax does that to you, pretty much, but hes a lot more stubborn about letting you go and wants to see you squirm and fight for your freedom... so good luck if you had anything planned that day...! he looks like he would be soft, both because bunmy... but also like, stylistically he looks like he would be squishy.. pretty pleasant to cuddle in to!

IN HOUSE ADVENTURE- unless the adventure gives him some ammo and/or way to be a menace to others, i think he just skips them. or if he does stick around he just. doesnt help, instead kind of just not doing anything.. now whether or not you and jax share similar traits is up to you, but if you needed help and asked nicely he would help you with something but otherwise youre on your own sister (gender neutral)

KISS- lots of kisses, especially if you get flustered easily. sure, you get a bit of a break from his antics but not by much... and if he can make you turn red from simply kissing your cheek hes going to exploit that.. speaking of, a lot of the kisses he gives are quick and fleeting, usually short pecks while hes walking by

LOVE LANGUAGE- little harmless pranks that make you do a double take or mildly confuse you are how he shows his love. now this is different from his usual stuff, because what he does to you is like. he leaves you a note. aww hes telling you how cute he thinks you are..! you pull the note out and BOOM! theres now powder everywhere and the note says you're sweet (the powder, being sugar). shit like that. outside of that words of affirmations work for him to, giving and receiving.. gonna be real though, i think jax is one of the hardest characters for me to write for since hes an ass (no shade to everyone asking for him! i love a little challenge!)

QUIET TIME- does not like quiet calm moments, but thats because hes an enjoyer and bringer of chaos, so moments of true silence are very rare. but lets say you two both just sit down and just. exist. actually, ill do you one better and tie this into the cuddling segment, he would probably busy his hands with your hair or any accessory you have on you

ZZZ- assuming you guys can sleep if you so desired, and you somehow convince jax to sleep with you (i think he would be the type to need to be talked into it), he would steal all the blankets. and the pillows. regardless of if hes actually sleeping or not. if this were the real world, and you guys were normal people and you actually needed to sleep due to exhaustion he would ease up on you (if hes doing this while awake). most definitely the type to say something as youre trying to sleep

"first person protagonists in video games never blink" or something similar

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #jax x you #jax x reader #jax imagine

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shepherds-of-haven · 9 days

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Who in the shepards is good with hair? Who is willing to help MC do their hair if asked? Who is gentle with a brush and who brushes hair like a mum lol

Blade: is he good with hair? the results speak for themselves

but he is very gentle and tender about brushing and is good at braiding if you tell him it's the same principle as making a rope!

Trouble: he's not a good hair stylist, but he's happy to help brush your hair if asked! Just don't bring him into it if there's lots of complicated pins and structures involved. He's gentle with brushing and can fumble a ponytail or braid together well enough, but it will be crooked and will come out at some point

Tallys: probably the gentlest with hair of them all, she can style neat, simple things (braids and crowns or simple up-dos are fine, but not really complicated hairstyles or pompadours or anything like that). having your hair brushed by her is like going to a head spa and you are very likely to fall asleep! She's very happy to do it, too, it's probably one of her favorite things to do as a couple!

Shery: she's good at doing hair and is gentle about it, though perhaps a little over-anxious about hurting you and will check in too frequently with, "Does this hurt?" "Did I pull too hard? I'm so sorry!!" She can manage lots of different hairstyles though, it's very impressive!

Riel: he is not the person to ask for you to do or handle your hair, lol. He wouldn't enjoy it and I suspect neither would you... the concept of getting your ✨ hair oils ✨ all over his hands is distressing to him. It is definitely not something he'd willingly do and he would be frankly puzzled that you'd ask, there's like 20 staff members and servants on hand at his house at any given time that are more suited for helping you with that!

Chase: he's surprisingly gentle with hair and is good at doing hairstyles too! He takes more time with it when he's intimate lovers with someone (and probably uses it as a method of seduction) but can do it for platonic friends too!

Red: he's gentle, but unpracticed; he could manage a braid just from mentally reasoning through it, but please don't ask him to do anything more complicated than that lol

Ayla: she'll reluctantly help you if you're really close, but I don't think you'd want her to, she brushes hair like a mom 🥲 and don't ask her to do anything fancy with it, either!!!

Briony: she's gentle at hair brushing but hopeless about doing hair, even if you ask her to do a ponytail, which you'd think she'd be quite good at... it's like tying a tie on someone else, it's different than her habitual, unthinking movements and ends up giving her the yips! She's just neutral about being asked to do it, though, it's not something she particularly enjoys but she enjoys the closeness and intimacy it conveys (as long as they take turns)!

Lavinet: I mentioned this in this ask and this one, but although Lavinet enjoys braiding/doing hair for fun, she doesn't like being asked to do so by someone, as she views it as a bit servantile or demeaning unless she offers or does it of her own volition first! Like she's fine if you come up to her and say, "Hey, does my hair look okay for this ball?" and then she'll sort of sigh and fuss at it and comb it more neatly or style it better, tutting all the while, but she won't really like it if you approach her and say, "Could you sit behind me and braid my hair into a French plait?" --Something she knows you're perfectly capable of doing yourself, but presumably just don't feel like it. She's not used to doing hair on other people at first, but with practice she becomes quite the expert at it. She doesn't really enjoy brushing hair though as a bonding/intimacy activity and would prefer for it to be the other way around, and when she does it, she's quite firm, neither particularly gentle nor really hard!

Halek: gentle with hair and surprisingly adept at doing hairstyles, too, probably the best out of all the guys!

#Shepherds of Haven #hair #hair brushing #braid #braiding #all characters

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neochan · 2 years

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MY AWARD (M)

PAIRING | idol bf!mark x reader

SYNOPSIS | mark looks damn good in a suit which leads to a bathroom quickie.

WC | 1.5k

WARNINGS | bathroom sex, french kissing, spitting, hickies, light slapping, degradation, creampies

A.N | super rushed and shitty writing, but the spit scene has me on my knees so idc and also credit to @ncteez for coming up with that part. ily bae 🫶🏻

twenty three men in suits yet you couldn't tear your eyes away from mark lee.

it was your first award show with your boyfriend and you were already hot and bothered. the suit the stylist had put him in was tightened in all the right places, the corseted waist hugging his abs, and the tailored suit pants showing a bit more than the paparazzi ought to see.

he walks the red carpet ahead of you, one hand holding yours as a guide to keep you in line with him while the cameramen went absolutely wild as 'seouls newest and stunning couple' made their first public appearance.

you leaned your head on his shoulder and smile wide, the bright flashing lights temporarily blinding you. the photographers cooed and jeered at the cute pose, but little did they know why you did it.

through gritted teeth you hiss at mark, "baby, i have to go to the bathroom." giving the camera another angel of your dress, you turn around and throw your head over your shoulder.

"wait till we're in the arena." he grits back, not faltering in his award winning smile. you let your arm hang for a second before pinching his thigh, which makes him jump a few inches back.

"no. i have to go to the bathroom."

his eyes narrow at you in an intense side stare, "we're at an award show, cameras pointed at us from every angle, and you want to do this?" his disbelief has you giggling and the cameramen start rapidly taking shots to capture the moment.

staring at mark, you shrug your shoulders and he rolls his eyes, a true smile blooming on his face as he literally sweeps you off your feet and cuts through the red carpet line of nct members.

the photographers can be heard laughing behind you, the taunts from nct members not going unheard either. this was sure to make headlines tomorrow.

seoul just couldn't get enough of the two of you.

it took forever to find the bathroom, but after ten straight minutes of searching, you find them tucked away at the very back of what you and mark had become to call the 'idol maze'; a vast amount of hallways that led off to out of use rec rooms idols could chill in.

the first thing mark does is pick you up and set you on the rather spacious counter, and lock the door. "why are you so horny babe? it’s your first award show. you're supposed to enjoy it!" he smirks at you and moves closer so that his hands were playing with the hem of your rather short slip dress.

"because you being in that suit is driving me crazy." you grab his wrist and slip his hand under your dress, maneuvering it so that he was pressing a palm against the soaked cloth of your panties, "see. i can't help it... i need you to fuck me."

"god y/n, you didn't think this fucking dress had me bricked up on the way here?" his free hand tears at the silk fabric while his word choice makes you giggle. "but you know what?" he coos, the hand underneath your dress kneading the soft inner flesh of your thigh.

"what?" you mumble, eyes fluttering heavy with lust.

"we're so far back in the venue that no one will hear you screaming for me."

your eyes shoot open but not before he closes the gap between you and captures your lips in a heated kiss. it was messy and sweet, the taste of urgency metallic on his tongue when he slips it past your lips to meet your own. spit smears against your cheek when he grabs your jaw to hold you against him, his teeth finding your bottom lip and pulling back; and when you whimper, it reminds him of the wetness between your legs that had probably grown immensely uncomfortable by now.

there was just one more thing he had to do...

"open up." his hold on your jaw tightens until you have no choice but to part your lips, tongue darting out and sitting heavy on your bottom one. you see him swish around before hovering over you and spitting directly into your mouth. his free hand taps a light smack to your cheek as to tell you 'close it'. "now swallow like a good girl."

the sweetest smirk falls upon his face and you do as he says, the only thing filling your mind being the fact that he just spit in your mouth. oh my god, he just spit in your mouth. and you feel a gush of wetness flooding out of you.

"you're fucking nasty for liking that." he sneers, his hand dropping from your jaw and smacking your thighs, "now open these... wanna fuck you dumb."

he helps lift your hips so that your dress could slide up your back, and hurriedly, he pulls your panties to the side while you reach below his belt and unzip his pants.

“how are you already hard? we’ve been in here like three minutes” you pull out his cock, a bead of precum leaking out of the tip. the veins stood out incredibly so and he bucks into your hand.

he was multitasking; kissing your neck and pulling at your hair, so his answer came out in one breathe “i said your dress was driving me crazy, didn’t i?”with one smooth motion he presses himself against your entrance and pushes into you, the both of you gasping and grabbing each other tighter.

"fuck." he whispers against your neck, hands fluttering over your back as he tries to create a rhythm.

it felt good, the heavy feel of your boyfriends cock pulsing in and out of you, his low grunts filling the nearly empty room.

he pulls away from you, looking down to watch his cock disappear between your legs and pull out of your needy hole dripping wet. what a fucking dream this was. "what's a slut like you supposed to say?"

"thank you mark."

"good girl. you should be glad i'm filling you up. giving you what a filthy slut like you needs." he sticks his tongue out between his lips and starts rolling his body sensually into yours, and when he looks up, your head is thrown back, eyes closed. "does my cock drive you crazy baby?" you hum in response but mark needs more and grabs the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair, "use your words ."

"fuck, m-mark, yes... love your cock, need it." you incoherently babble, too focused on his cock between your legs.

"so pretty."

god he loved the way you fell apart underneath him, how obedient you became with just the taste of his cock. and the fact that all of his members probably thought you were sitting in the venue, yet here you were with his cock shoved deep in you. how fucking dirty the both of you were was lost on the rest of the group... if only they knew.

for a fleeting second mark thinks about pulling out his phone and snapping a pic to send to the group chat, but the rational side of his brain intervenes and the thought is pushed aside and replaced by the fact that he really needs to cum.

like really fucking bad.

“god mark i can’t, fuck, can't hold it” you hiccup, hands roughly clutching the front of his suit which accidentally pops open a few of the buttons. your orgasm washes over you too fast making you lose sight for a quick second and all that could be heard was your loud moans, a few curses and marks name repeatedly dripping from your lips.

he came after, with your walls squeezing him, milky ropes of cum flood your core. his lips find your neck, sucking a few fresh bruises into the supple skin while his hips stutter into yours, riding out his high as long as he could.

leaning his forehead against your own, you lock eyes and notice the innate sparkle in his. he was so fucking hot.

"that was nice." you whisper, a hint of a smile ghosting over your lips.

with a kiss to your lips, he pulls out and sags against the bathroom door fixing himself. you reach for the paper towel dispenser trying hard not to dribble cum on your light colored dress... and victory is yours when you clean up without so much as a smear.

"now can we go out there and behave ourselves?" he asks, clutching you in his arms when you hop off the counter.

you nod and turn around to look in the mirror, just in case you needed to fix your hair again, but you're met with an even bigger issue.

"mark! what am i gonna say if people see this?"

scattered along your very exposed throat were hickies of all colors, some large and some small, but all of them very obvious.

all he does is chuckle and open the door.

"i had to let people know that i already won my award."

tag list: @ncteez @rainyjeno @mrkis @saintlyhyuck @dearj43

#neohub #neowritingsnet #mark lee smut #mark smut #nct mark smut #nct mark lee smut #nct mark x reader #mark lee x reader #nct dream smut #nct mark lee imagine #nct mark lee x reader #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct 127 mark x reader

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snarky-art · 4 months

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bbyyyy SOTLK dresses redesign?

These were actually really interesting to work with, both in trying to keep colors and shapes from the original dresses combined with adding my own lore to it! Except for Aisha’s which wounded my so. I really wanted to keep her flowers but I just,, couldn’t get it to look right🥲 I added purple instead tho which is the color of the flower of andros, which is similar in appearance to a Camas Lily. They bloom in lush expansions all along the coast of the land of Androsia, where the mainland and sands meet.

More info on outfits below!

Musa: Tang dynasty influence. Did my best to keep some of the shapes from the og gown. The 2 red dots that I’ve featured a few times in either side of Musa’s mouth in different designs represent loudness and boldness and are commonly used symbols in a lot of melody, which are traits one would want to represent when holding as representation for the different cultures of Melody, proud of their heritage and great unbending will.

Aisha: mentioned some above about the purple additions to be the substitutes for actual flowers. Kept the split down the middle at the dress itself, just changed its length and shape, trying to keep the shape of the original one some with the purple bits below the corset tho

Tried to keep more true greens than teals too. She deserves more sleek satin fits also. Most of the stuff I draw her in I imagine there’s satin I just decided to do shading this time lol

Tecna: I decided before even designing this I wanted to keep that jacket on them at all costs. Happy with the shapes overall here and really love the colors. Probably my favorite of these looks. Shiny pants and silk featured because they look good on them. To me, they aren’t Tecna if they don’t have some weird heels too.

Flora: probably my least favorite design just because I feel like I need to get better at giving them more variety in their outfits, but I did what I could to keep a lot of the shapes present. Instead of those 2 long flower strands, I just had them replaced with the split full of flowers down the side.

Bloom: empire waistlines are very much the norm in Dominion fashion with not as many ruffles or as expanded a gown shape as featured here, but Bloom is new to this and her parents wanted her to be as comfortable as possible for the celebration. Bloom got to have direct input on the adjustments to the dress and is living the princess dream she’s always wanted currently. She intentionally looks a little awakward as a result, the stylists doing what they could to accommodate what she wanted and mesh it with traditional Dominion fashion styles to reiterate that Domino is what she represents. The slightly more formal front hairpiece with the additional 2 gold curls is present to make the statement that Domino is so back and Bloom is even wearing the golden headpiece that the heir wears to show this. It’s not until after the party she learns it was Daphne’s, and that leads to some Insecurities and the reality of what reviving Domino actually means for Bloom. More spirals coming in waves after this point. As always with Dominion garb the cyan gems are for those of the royal family and purples are for those that work with The Dragon Flame.

Stella: by this point in the story, Stella really starts to get more involved with Lunarian stuff and connect with her moon culture. It starts small in her presentation, with certain cuts of cloth (the slope of the fabric on the top part of the skirt) and the style of some of her jewelry, specifically the one with gems that is tilted to match the fabric shape and the incorporation of more blue gems. She also stops straightening her hair all the time (her hair is blonde from her mother, whom is Lunarian, but the saturation comes from her Solarian genetics, making the color look like it’s from Solarian genetics. Straightening it to match the majority of Solarian hair was a sure way to make sure she passed as Solarian until someone notices her pupils, which are Lunarian. She no longer fears if she’s passing or not. She is learning to take pride in her moon side).

Stella choosing to have the little blue gems on the bottom of her gold jam dress bit instead of gold or more orange is a bold move also she is starting her proper journey to doing joint work and advocating properly for systemic change for Lunaria.

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alluringjae · 2 years

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sinfully vowed to you - jjh

open your legs, not your bible | sinfully vowed to you

SUMMARY. how far will you go for love? perhaps to the point you’re bound for marriage, but the groom you seek isn’t the one your heart beats for. and desperately, you must gamble everything without regrets.

PAIRING. jaehyun x fem!reader

WORD COUNT. 13.2k

GENRE. loads of angst, fluff, and slice of life at the end | rich bad boy!jaehyun, rich good girl!reader, implied enemies to lovers!au, forbidden romance!au

PLAYLIST. don’t blame me (sped up and reverb) by taylor swift [the main reason of how this story came to be]

WARNINGS. arranged married to a surprise neo, mentions and appearances of more neos, references to and slight bad-mouthing Christianity, one heated argument where 2 of the 10 commandments are recited, mentions and portrayal of manipulative parents, explicit language, petnames, “stop the wedding” shenanigans, mentions of Satan, mentions and potrayals of physical and verbal assault, eloping, allusions to virginity loss and sex, mention of praise kink, tension between rival families, pregnancy ((let me know I missed anything else))

⤑ vero’s words: reposting bc tvmblr being a bit rood for not showing up on the tags 💀 also did some minor edits and added extra parts i forgot from my final draft huhuhu but omg yeah thank you for all the love for the first part!!! i didn’t expect it to blow up my phone notifs soooo i hope this second part (unsure if it’s the last one who knows right) makes up the sudden cliffhanger HAHAHAHA happy reading!!! 💗

⤑ disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. i don’t own the people/characters written, but the plot is mine. translations or copying my work is not allowed.

⤑ masterlist

⤑ leave me some feedback or hellos!

SIX HOURS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

They say a wedding is every little girl’s dream. Whether it was the white gown or having a gorgeous partner at the end of the aisle whom they truly love, it’s like magic unfolding by the eyes of their esteemed guests.

The power of love ever so beautiful, and how everyone anticipates for it to grown each passing. And for the couple, to be eternally bound and in love until their final breath.

You were one of those little girls caught up in the fantasy, until it was tainted by the bitter reality of your pre-constructed future.

Hushed chatter are exchanged between your assigned makeup artist and hair stylist. They express pride in being booked by such an influential family for such a lavish wedding, doing their best to live up to the high expectations. But they’ll never understand how the smiles you give when they loop you into their small talk, it’s an act. Deep down, you dread their fruits of their labor working out.

Yet you wish to stop yourself from changing into this magnificent white gown cascading every curve of your figure. The upper half is of a tube design, folded twice and sewn. As for the bottom, the fabric are crafted into ruffles that flair until the bottom. A veil is clasp on top of your bun, awaiting until the big event to place over your head. Oh, there are gloves to match.

“Keep yourself entirely covered and pure after your wedding vows.” Your mother once insights as you nod along during your first dress fitting back then. Quite ironic to hear that now, huh?

Eventually (and much to your convenience), the overall styling is done. You bid genuine gratitude to the staff before they exit your hotel room while you remain alone to rest up. It was going to be a long day of superficial joy before facing lifelong period of unhappiness and duty.

As much as you want to enjoy your beautiful reflection right by the full-length mirror, your heart cannot simply move past the tragedy and pain strongly throbbing inside you.

What was the point to be dolled up like this if the groom you seek is not the chosen one?

And what more for a wedding being the happiest day of every little girl’s life if your arranged groom already has a special someone vacating their heart?

The outside world can only rejoice for such a joyous occasion, but the two of you can only mourn for the freedoms that have been permanently washed away.

Quite frankly enough, you still remember that very day you met your fiancé. You can only grieve for what has already been done without your willing knowledge and consent…

And for what else is to come after it.

TEN MONTHS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

It’s merely two days after your father’s sudden announcement of marriage, and your groom-to-be reached out to you through your mother. He didn’t have your number, so he contacted her first then you.

Meanwhile, your poor heart remains to sob and cry out every ounce of pain. Yet it never decreased, especially when you still had to tell Jaehyun. But you still didn’t have the bravery, dodging his calls and texts on your burner phone.

For the meantime, you needed to face your groom-to-be in hopes for at least a civil relationship.

The cafe near your office was a good 5 minute walk for him, and out there he already laid out his honest intentions and thoughts.

“I understand what we must do for our families’ empires.” He starts off in a downcast manner. “But do know that affection-wise, I can never reciprocate it with you.”

You curved a mini grin. “What’s she like then?”

“Wait, are you not offended?” He’s taken aback. Nothing has occurred but rejecting any future romantic endeavors to the kindest and most angelic woman in the city. He’s aware of the asshole move, but your reaction is very unlike you.

You laugh, breaking a bit of the tension. “Should I be?”

“We’re set to be married, to fall in love over time. So it’s unfair for you if I can’t give you just that. And my, you deserved to be loved in full.”

You heart wrenches. “But you deserve that just as much as I do because--“

“Because?”

“My heart belongs to another as well.”

Silence floods the both of you. Eye contact is evident, not ignored. Your irises drain of energy, of hope. And yet, there’s a nudge of comfort in sharing burdens together.

The burden of your liberty fading day by dad and impenetrable heartbreak.

And even if Jaehyun doesn’t know it yet, you’re already grieving.

“If not a loving relationship,” He cuts the tension. “May we at least remain amicable? I understand that our fates are shitty, but I cannot find any reasons to hate you.”

“I-I’d like that.” You stutter, glad that one good thing came out of a rather pleasant conversation. “I look forward to putting on a façade for the world with you.”

And as if by magic, your future dons a gummy smile. “Likewise, (Y/N). It’ll be a lot less hellish with you by my side.”

The two of you shake hands to it.

“I truly apologize for my family’s greed, (Y/N).” He says with guilt.

“I apologize for the same thing as well, Doyoung.”

THREE HOURS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

Speaking of the man, your phone pings with a notification. The two of you communicate constantly like close friends, a surprising pro to everything.

DY KIM: My mother is looking for you

DY KIM: She wants a photo of her future mother-in-law

(Y/N) Lee: Ew gross

(Y/N) Lee: How fake can she get this time in liking me

DY KIM: As fake as her beloved nose job

(Y/N) Lee: Jesus Doyoung

DY KIM: HAHAHAHA I’d say hurry once you’re done having some last minute alone time

DY KIM: I really don’t want to be around your parents, especially your over-the-top, conservative mother

(Y/N) Lee: Is she telling you not to meet me rn bc it’s gonna bring us misfortune

(Y/N) Lee: If she is, don’t even bother

(Y/N) Lee: Althoughhhh I do stand by that if you don’t mind

DY KIM: Oh, I see. I’m sorry about that, I didn’t know

(Y/N) Lee: No worries, we have our whole lives to figure more things about each other

DY KIM: such a scary idea

(Y/N) Lee: not as scary as both your parents asking me about our future children

DY KIM: I AM STILL SO SORRY ABOUT THAT

(Y/N) Lee: It’s alright, Doyoung

(Y/N) Lee: That is one of my main duties as your future wife

DY KIM: But I don’t wanna think of that yet

DY KIM: Let’s focus on getting through this show

DY KIM: So I’ll see you in the altar?

(Y/N) Lee: Definitely, see you then.

It’s strange how you and Doyoung managed to create a friendship in the midst of your emotional distresses. Maybe in this lifetime, you’re only destined a marriage out of duty. But out of love? There’s no room for that.

Though perhaps now, you may have given yourself an exception. You share a loving look in the mirror because regardless of the occasion, you’re dressed to the nines. You shall not waste it.

You’re only going to get married once after all, right?

“Miss Lee.” Someone knocks on the bedroom door of your suite. It was one of the wedding planners, whose arms carry a captivating bouquet of white roses.

Your favorite.

“These are lovely!” Your legs carefully rush towards her, hoping not to break your heels. “Are these the flowers I’ll be walking the down aisle with?”

“Yes!” She replies. “In fact, this was a last-minute decision because the original red roses sent by the Kims are a bit too striking to the eye. You should be the main star after all.”

You nod. “If that’s the case, may I know who I sent them?”

“Funny you ask, Ms. Lee.” The planner takes a few steps back, only to return with an enclosed white envelope. “This gift came from an anonymous person, and one of my team members was informed that only you can read the letter it comes.”

Your brows scrunch in suspicion and confusion as you accept the envelope. But before you can question it, the planner interrupts your thoughts. “The car you’ll be riding in to go to the church is arriving soon, so we must head out in a bit.”

“Yes, I got that.” You affirm, trying not to get too caught up on this extra frenzy. Curiosity is a great trait of yours, but it can be problematically uncontrollable at time. “May I just spend a few more minutes to read this letter and touch up on my perfume? This can be from all my brothers.”

“Of course.” With that, the planner bows with respect as she leaves the room and closes the door behind her. Without anymore time to waste, your fingers rip out the envelope whilst enjoying the fresh aroma of the flowers. Straight out of the shop for sure, could all your brothers possibly have the time to buy it?

Taeyong is too occupied with his wife and only son to consider such a request.

Ten, your half-brother, just flew in this morning from Thailand. Staying any longer than today can cause major havoc, especially with your mother.

Mark sucks at being romantic. No wonder he can’t keep any of his ex-girlfriends.

Jeno, well. It’s not his thing. Not with his playboy personality lately.

Haechan is still hungover from partying with his friends just last night according to your sibling group chat.

Yet even with this, you’d still like to give all of them the benefit of the doubt. As the only girl in the Lee family, they respect and love you in their own ways. And it’s your wedding day, for God’s sake. They’re aware of how unhappy you are despite denying such, so sending flowers are their way of cheering you up.

Oh, how wrong you are.

Innocently, you unfolded the letter and bit by bit, your mouth lets out a gasp. The handwriting is all too familiar from the first few words on top, alongside the fresh perfume that was sprayed on it.

It came from the last person you can ever expect. The last person you could think or dream about.

Yet the only person your heart desperately longs for.

You’re gutted, yet you needed to contain yourself.

But fuck, flashbacks of the last time you saw each other replay in your head. And none of them were good memories.

FIVE MONTHS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

Time is crucial in everything you do.

And you knew you fucked up when you kept delaying on telling Jaehyun your wedding when he saw it on today’s major headline in the news.

Here you two were, in your apartment where he manages to sneak in perfectly as always.

But confusion and anger were his driving emotions, and you couldn’t blame him the slightest.

What a coward you are.

“When will you ever stand up for yourself, (Y/N)? When will you call out those people who keep trampling over you?” Those were the first words he expressed, pacing your living room back and forth.

“But these are my parents, Jaehyun!” You tried to stay strong and neutral. You had no choice. “God, I hate them but I can’t lose them. If I do, I lose everyone else.”

“Are you really afraid of losing them or losing the privileges you’ve gained over the years from them?”

“Excuse me?”

“Admit that you are.” He marched forward where you stood. By the window, you’re looking down at the impending traffic. At the cars desperately eager to get home, was this how God saw everyone? Does He watch the suffering of His children in hopes they learn a lesson, or to put them through absolute misery?”

Because nothing else can destroy your heart but Jaehyun’s pain directly speaking at you.

“They’ll remove you from their wills and inheritance, try to blacklist you everywhere, badmouth you to other, rip the whole city apart even to find wherever you are if you run away.” He listed on and on. “How do I know? Because I’m afraid too.”

“Fearing of starting anew, fearing that no one will support you, fearing of what’s to come when you disobey mommy and daddy because you’ve broken Commandment #4.”

“Honor your mother and father.” You responded naturally. How can you not when it’s a major rule you followed all your life?

“But you and I both know that they’re neither deserving of such because they are a lot worthy in the deeper realms of hell.” He spat without care.

“Don’t say that!” You protest.

“But you know I’m right!” And you knew was, but your pride was too high for that. Call it your only sin, one of the seven deadly ones. Truly ironic on your end.

“But it’s not that easy to stray away from my family! Unlike you whose parents give you so much freedom to explore, I am always on a leash.” You try to defend yourself, close to being on the verge of tears. Everything you’ve built with Jaehyun is starting to fall apart. The only person who’s made you feel sane and at ease. But you’re cornered with no choice. “So if I choose to be impulsive, I’ll be trapped. Locked in my bedroom like Rapunzel.”

You distance your glare towards another view, not wanting Jaehyun to see your now falling tears. “And if I run away and fail, my fate can be similar to Taeyong and Ten.”

Memories of Taeyong and Ten being beaten up to a pulp by your father and his henchmen when they tried to expose the corruption of your family to a media news outlet replays your mind. You were still in university, and didn’t mean to see that happening if not for your dying thirst. There was a water dispenser outside your bedroom, and wretched sounds from downstairs piqued your curiosity. Alas, whines from your older brothers as he was punched ruthlessly and bloodily in the living room. Your mother can only cry on the side, merely being a bystander to the abuse because she can’t stop your father.

“But has it crossed your mind that maybe, your brothers not want you to go through what they went through?” Jaehyun tries to compromise. Anything to keep you in his life. “That they too want you to make the big change in the family?”

“Even if they did, I just can’t risk it. Especially as the only woman among my siblings, marriage out of duty is my right.”

“What about us? Our freedom?”

“Freedom for a love like ours…” You trail. “… can only leave us 6 feet under.”

“But aren’t we worth a fight?” He begs. “I know what we signed up for our love likes ours, but shouldn’t we give it a shot? Give us a shot.”

“Jaehyun--“

“Do you not love me enough? Or is it me that loves you more than you?”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Everything that’s happening right now is bullshit because rather than doing what’s right, isn’t pushing through with the wrong?” His temper nearly tramples your room down. Getting a noise complaint right now is the last thing you needed. “Isn’t that contradictory as the good religious girl you are?”

“So you think that I am the bad one here?” You almost scream in stress. “God, I should’ve never given you a chance.”

“Say that again, angel.” Jaehyun’s voice lowered.

Oh shit, you fucked up with your mindless words.

Your lover straightens his back, showcasing his full height. How he hovers you, making you walk back again while he follows. That’s until you hit the wall loud and clear. “I don’t think I can’t hear you clearly.”

“You Jeongs are trouble and always will be. How dumb of me to have been so merciful to sinners like you.”

“That’s not what you said when you kissed me back a lifetime ago.” He plays around your charade. He knows you don’t mean it.

“What makes you think God will take you back?” You challenge.

“If I had to attend mass every day and bathe myself in holy water to clear myself of every remnant of you, so be it.” His hands rake over your body, one landing on your waist and the other planted on the wall near your face. Lowering his stance, your body get goosebumps from the words that he whispers in your ear. “Commandment #9: Thou shall not bear false witness against me.”

You bit your lips, which he makes him smirk. To add, “We all know you’re uttering a lie, baby.”

As his ego inflates, that’s only when your senses return to their normal state. “Get off me.”

“But you’re my religion, baby.”

“Commandment #1: Thou shall have no other Gods before Me.” You retaliated. “Convert back to your old self, Jaehyun. The one before you rejoined Bible study.”

“Baby.”

“It’s blasphemous to describe me as a religion when I am no god. So If you really love me, you’d understand my sense of duty and let me go.” Don’t. Please. You’re at a point of confusion, but you cannot let whatever feelings you have for Jaehyun jeopardize your life. Perhaps these feelings shall pass too.

Right?

“(Y/N).”

“Please don’t make it any harder for us, Jaehyun.” You weakly pushed him away. “So please go.”

Jaehyun’s been the type to rile you up, to take risks. But he knows when enough is enough. As your orbs have been drained of its light, and your back slouched in fatigue, it’s a pain to see you this way.

But the pain that piles in his chest was more superior, and he starts to lash out. Like he’s back in square one with you.

“I loathe your family. You robbed my family all those years ago, so I thought I’d never like you no matter how kind-hearted you are in and outside the church. But I was so fucking wrong.” He starts to cry, which he rarely does. And it’s from the last person he ever expected it to be from. His only lover, the only person who understood him, was leaving him.

“You’re the only one who understood me when everyone turned their backs at me for my sharp tongue. Sure, we argued a lot but you put me in my place. In my cold world, you embraced me with warmth. You taught me how to soften up and make amends with Sungchan, and showed me what real love is unlike the harshness of my parents.” Your back was turned when he kept talking this point on, refusing to confront him more. It’s too much you can mentally and emotionally handle.

“But that doesn’t really matter anymore.” He sighs, giving up. “I fell for your tricks, and now, you robbed my whole heart. How it beats for you, and only you. Truly, robbing runs in your blood and it shall stay that way forever.”

“Jaehyun, wait--” From your cold stance, only now were you awakened by the consequences of your actions. But it was too late. Jaehyun was by your front door, opening it to exit your home.

And your life forever.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).”

TWO HOURS BEFORE THE WEDDING.

Will you ever be ready to read this note when your parting all those months ago was bitter?

Yet it does cross your mind how he’s been, how can you not be?

If this was your last connection to him, you must savor it. All the sweetness and bitterness blazed in it.

Dearest my angel,

Weddings allow you to witness the passion and love between a couple right before your eyes. There’s truly nothing more breathtaking than that.

I am so sorry for the way I acted that night and each word I spat at you. I pressured you into something that you weren’t comfortable with out of my greed, inconsiderate of how much stress you already were under beforehand. Rather than putting you on the spot and lashing out my growing heartbreak, I should’ve been by your side. To be your shoulder to cry on, especially when we know what kind of love if we’re in.

But forgive me and my poor heart: it still cannot accept that you’re betrothed to another. I cannot invalidate my emotions that day either, but regardless. I am sorry for my actions that night.

They say our kind of love is forbidden, disrespectful to our ancestors who loathed each other. But can we really blame our souls to find connection in the mutual pains of our manipulative families? Should we choose to hate our neighbors because they told us to do so, to continue the generational tradition? Damn, we should never be religious if our sense of humanity is fucked.

By this time, you’re already dressed in a fascinating white gown. You’ve always been beautiful, but you’re bound to make every angel above cry in praise as you walk down the aisle. They’ll see what I see in you, even if I’m not the man who gets to take your hand. Until death do us part, but we’ve already parted before we can ever truly begin.

Thank you for accepting me for who I am. Thank you for making me realize how much I’m worth versus the bad things my parents say about me. Thank you for always encouraging me to go after my dreams even when a lot of people has turned their backs on. Most of all, thank you for loving me as I have loved you.

I don’t deserve a space in Heaven, but I am glad I found Heaven in you. And now, I’m ready to step down. Not necessarily to let you go yet, but in time, I’ll be able to let you go and look back at our memories fondly.

So please don’t shed any more tears if I am the cause of them; it aches my heart thinking of it because you deserve all the happiness in the world. Freely live a new life with your groom and create amazing memories with him.

I believe that my purpose in God’s plan for you, which is to love you fully and authentically in this world of lies, has been fulfilled.

- J

“We must leave in 5, (Y/N).” The muffled voice of the planner echoes through your trance, one that has you silently sobbing underneath your lips. Tears that threaten to brim down, but your head shakes before they do so.

What have you done? You became a slave to your cowardice for the longest time, only for your courage to finally knock some sense into you. You simply cannot go through this ceremony, you had to get outta there.

But it was already too late. Life doesn’t wait on cowards like you.

With the white bouquet in hand, your last connection with him, you pull yourself together.

“Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

ONE HOUR BEFORE THE WEDDING.

Pictures here, pictures there.

The ceremony hasn’t started, and yet your parents and Doyoung’s demand numerous shots with you by the hotel and in the church. Your toes start to ache in your heels, and to your side, your eyes beg Taeyong and Ten to save you from your misery.

The latter boy laughs from afar, giving you a thumbs up. Or rather his expression read, “You’re on your own to do your duty!”

Meanwhile, Taeyong cuts in between you having dreaded small talk with Doyoung’s self-righteous mother. Already proud to claim herself as your mother-in-law, your ears can bleed for every screech in her tone when she opens her mouth. Under the excuse of “having some 1-on-1 time with my only sister”, Taeyong escorts you to a quiet, closed room within the church.

“Thank God for you, Yongie.” You hug him with utmost gratitude. “I’m about to lose my mind if Mrs. Kim wouldn’t shut up.”

Taeyong laughs, gladly returning your gesture. “Anything for you, little sis.”

You scoff, correcting him. “Your only sis.”

“You know what I mean.”

The two of you smile at each other, enjoying the comfort of silence. Since you were children studying in your living room back then to the first time Taeyong taught you how to drink when you turn 18, he was like your best friend. Through thick and thin, and against your parents the two of you were. Slowly, you’re breaking the cycle of bad deeds.

Or trying to. Because neither of you got away with your arranged marriages.

Speaking of which…

“So this is really happening, huh?” Taeyong starts as he hands over a bottle of water from the refrigerator behind him. It’s by luck the two of you ended up in the private lounge of the church for esteemed wedding guests. “Are you ready for this lifelong commitment, (Y/N)?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” You say flatly. “You had to go through this as well, but eventually, you began to love your wife so maybe it’ll work for me too.”

“I was very lucky with Minyoung. She’s my soulmate.” He smiles upon the thought of his lover, but it only enables the green monster of envy into your being. “But I don’t think our situations are ever going to be alike.”

You squint a brow from your stance by the window. “What do you mean?”

“I was single when I was arranged to be wed, no person vacating my heart nor had intentions to look for one.” He lingers, locking eyes with you. His bright, wide pupils that can easily read a person, it was like he was analyzing your entire mind and body language. But alas, he already knows a lot more than you can ever imagine.

It only explains how your fingers drastically slip from your bottle, spilling incandescently on the floor. Thankfully, it didn’t break because of the curtain above the wood. You alertly scurry away from the wet zone and lean against the glass bookcase of religious books. Dare not can you look at your brother in the eye, too busy being washed out with shame, guilt, and misery.

“Taeyong, I can explain.”

“What else is there to explain, little sis?” He keeps his composure, unfazed. No anger, no outlash, no negative emotions bubbling his figure. “Other than you’re in love with another man, one you know will cause mayhem when mother and father know of it.”

You want to deny everything he’s blurting out to you. But your sudden reaction is too much of a giveaway, and lying to Taeyong is impossible. Not when he’s best at sneaking around and digging secrets about everyone. Why do you think he figured out that Ten’s your half-brother, not just some exchange student from Thailand during your high school years?

“Of all the men out there, did it really have to be Jeong Jaehyun?” He asks with concern in his tone rather than judgement. It was the first time he utter the man’s name without hatred. Not when he’s someone very dear to you.

“Hush your voice! Someone might hear.” You order, peering at the door. Anyone can walk in, or eavesdrop. Your world has eyes and ears everywhere.

“Just answer the question, (Y/N).” His tone deafens, but his composure hasn’t wavered.

You sigh, gazing downwards while your fingers tightly clutch on your gown. “The heart wants what it wants. And I’m sure that until the end of time, it’ll always long for him.”

Taeyong remains speechless momentarily to calibrate with his thoughts. He’s been hesitant with Jaehyun the second he saw return to church a lifetime ago. Always up to no good, yet never to start a fight because he’s not the type. And luckily, they never crossed paths outside. He recalls how nervous he was upon hearing from the latest gossip (aka your mom) that Jaehyun joined the Bible study as probation for his consistent outside bar fights. You’re a consistent goer, so he can only pray that nothing bad happens to you.

Over the course of time, he witnessed Jaehyun tame down and become more active in church. Rather than be bitchy, he was impressed. Only God can judge people, not him. Yet at the same time, he observed how more laidback you became. You’re firm to your beliefs and faith, but not really the toxic, conservative type to force others that your beliefs were better than yours. It was more like you’ve loosened up strings and allowed to let your hair down, socializing more and trying new things. Perhaps riled your mother up for being “unladylike” at times, yet it didn’t bother you anymore. If you had fun and hurt nobody, how should a conservative mother’s unnecessary opinion affect you?

So now, onto you and Jaehyun.

It took him back when you’d both get in trouble by the nuns for your arguments, earning a scolding from him on the phone because “you’re better than this!” or a similar kind of pep talk. It’s merely enemies to somewhat friends when he thinks of the both of you, especially when you opened up how you came into a compromising understanding with Jaehyun out of maturity.

But the idea of love came rushing as he unintentionally saw the two of you kiss on the second floor of the open church. Jaehyun’s palms were situated on your waist while your arms loop behind the nape of his neck, both of you smiling at every movement your lips made.

The second floor is where the choir stays, and you and Jaehyun were packing up their songbooks post-mass. He showed you the different colors of light being reflected from the stained glass artworks. Specifically the image of the Virgin Mary, it lit up the best before the sunset. The both of you were distracted from such beauty, and eventually towards each other when specks of colored light hit your faces. Caught up in a meaningful moment, a passionate kiss where your bodies are right in front of the big crucifix was followed.

A symbol of showing Him that love had no boundaries or limitations.

A symbol that further enlightened Taeyong on how you’ve both changed.

You and Jaehyun balanced each other out over time, so it should be a no-brainer that this was going to happen. Yet he chose not to say anything about it then because he wanted to hear it from you. It was clearly a private moment too. He could’ve been mad, but he wasn’t.

You’re in love, and it’s real.

However, it’s only leading into a loophole of misery. Arranged marriages are a given in your clan, hence refraining from creating close relationships with the opposite sex. Oh, how you broke that rule ruthlessly.

“Who else knows?” You quiver, self-conscious and vulnerable. Were you not secretive enough? Did the burner phones you and Jaehyun used were actually trackable? Did someone follow you? All sorts of questions cloud your already cluttered brain.

“Ten.” Taeyong bluntly responds, and you stiffened.

As much as you love Ten, any so-called steamy information he gets within his circle he uses it as blackmail just like Taeyong. You would know; you were there when he confronted your father about his affair with his mother. That if he has no place in his empire, he’d expose such a scandal. It’s no question your mother (his step-mother when he got adopted a month after the threat) despises him to the core, a lot more than her disloyal husband.

But before the paranoia can worsen, Taeyong chimes in. “Don’t even think he’ll use it against you. In fact, he’s in favor of such like I am.”

“Wait what?!” Now, you’re confused.

“I know I confronted you at the most wrong time, and my tone this whole time is very vague.” He clarifies, and with every word, he walks toward you. As his clammy hands now holding yours, he fully lets out his main truth. “You have to make a choice, and we know this wedding isn’t the right one.”

“Taeyong, it’s too late.” You beg, utterly weak in his eyes. And how it aches him to see you like this. “He’ll never take me back. Not after he found out about the news.”

“You can never be too sure, so I wholeheartedly think that you need to make a move.” Taeyong’s quick vision spots a growing tear in your lid, wiping it carefully with his index finger. “It’s always been you being a pawn in our parents’ game. But this time, change the direction and claim your power as queen.”

“But our younger brothers…”

“I failed to set a proper example before so please learn from my experiences, (Y/N). Show them that we cannot let ourselves be controlled by our parents.”

Right as you wanted to reply, an impatient set of knocks intrude your now-or-never conversation.

“I’m already annoyed that I wasn’t invited to your heartfelt chat.” Ten’s sarcasm pipes in, which eases the tension surprisingly. “But the wedding starts in 5, and I want to spend some time with the bride as well.”

Taeyong hastily unlocks the door, while you followed behind him. Lo and behold, Ten graces a mischievous smirk as he leans against the door frame. Taeyong pecks your temple a final with a fervent look screaming “time is running” before he runs to assist Jeno refix his necktie.

That leaves you with Ten. With his arms crossed, he first marvels at your beauty.

“My sister, ever so beautiful.” The sweet scent of his parfum whiffs your nostrils, making you hum in comfort and familiarity. Regardless of being half-siblings, you always treated him the same as the rest.

“Thank you for coming. I feared that you wouldn’t after your recent brawl with dad.”

“I’d never let any shitty fight with that monster stop me from see you walk down the aisle. Plus, when are we not fighting?” He jokes, his hands finding the cloth of your veil to help you put it over your head. As per tradition as the beauty of the bride must only be saved by her groom. “But are you really happy to be here?”

Always straight to the point, that was Ten for you. With one brow lifting upwards in question, he continues on. “I’ve always known that you wanted real love, and when you did, you chose not to go through with it.”

“It’s complicated, and you know that.”

“Do I?” He challenges. “You’re in love with a boy who’s part of the rival family. That’s not hard to piece together.”

“How do you even know it’s him we’re talking about?”

“What other guy, excluding us siblings, have you been constantly around with?”

“Doyoung is there.”

“But he came in the picture late. Jaehyun, however--” He lengthens the tension. “He may have gotten on your last nerve numerous times in Bible study, but not when I saw you both have a secret late-night date by the Han River.”

Your eyes widened. Taeyong was right earlier. “Excuse me what?!”

Ten laughs at your shock. “I was trying to easen my hangover from my bar-hopping adventures with our younger brothers that night, but definitely sobered up when I saw you and him giggling over the smallest things by the river.”

“Ten, I—” It was your only public date with him, when no one could ever question or follow your moves. Even managed to convince your parents that you needed fresh air that day after all the stress at the company headquarters.

“Life is too fucking short, (Y/N).” He lays out his advice flatly. No detours, no sweet words. Just the real, harsh truth. “If you don’t make a stand, the regret of it all will kill you.”

PRESENT TIME.

Time can’t spare you a moment to breathe to answer him or deny his intentions. Because the second the wedding planner stressfully calls you over to stand behind the main church doors, all you can focus was this event. This wedding, one that numerous people anticipated. Loads of influential families that are acquainted with your parents filled up every pew, bridesmaids and groomsmen are lining up to enter the church first.

On the other hand, your parents stood each side of you. They beam in excitement, while you try to match them. Everything is for their selfish sake, anyways.

As the doors officially open, harmonious music from the band on the second floor play for everyone’s glee. Couple by couple, flower girl after flower girl, then Doyoung’s youngest cousin as the ring bearer, every single person has their eye on you. How much you’ve grown over the years, the elegance you embody is simply natural and no gown or makeup can compete with that.

Especially your groom, who shares an enchanted gaze at you from afar. And as flawless as he looks in his black suit and tie, the truth-binding words of your older brother resurface your mind. From trying to appreciate the efforts put in making the church a more enamoring location for a wedding, uncontrollable tears grace your visage. You’re glued to the program of this show, and any refusals will be disrespectful.

“Don’t get too emotional now.” Your mother comforts, only thinking that you’re overwhelmed in joy. “It’s only getting better from here.”

Lies.

Only you and Doyoung can truly share the same feeling at this moment. Even if he finds you ever so dashing, he proceeds to mask his own pain with a tight-lipped smile as he watches you walk down the long, flowery aisle. It was a representation of your life together ahead, especially seeing the petals blacken from the dirt. The reality of it all is only hitting you now as your parents hand you over to Doyoung, who directs you to the center. His hands still hold on to your covered ones, keeping up your façade.

“I’m sorry.” He mouths.

“Me too.” You reply.

The first of many. Such a disgrace to the crucifix above, yes. But what else can the two of you do now?

The priest politely greets the two of you before the ceremony officially begins.

The first and second readings ran smoothly, being read by your father and Doyoung’s mother. It’s almost like a typical mass, where the Homily often bores you to the point you wanted to pass out. Even had Doyoung, who sat beside you, worried.

“You look pale.” He comments. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I’m fine.” You reassure with a genuine smile. “It’s just hot in this church.”

“When has it not been?” He tries to joke, which you actually enjoyed.

Once the short-lived humor died down, you try to refocus your mind on the ongoing Homily. Surprisingly, you finally pick up and find yourself attentive for a change.

“Love is blind, they say. Perhaps, that’s true, as one cannot control how their heart can beat for another one. But there is also this saying: souls don’t meet by accident. Nothing in life is a coincidence: there’s always a reason why they meet. And when they do, it creates magic. They balance each other out in aspects they fall short, but not necessarily complete them. They bring the best sides of them out, yet fully let their vulnerabilities come under the light without fright. Because they know they’ll be protected than reprimanded.”

You’re unsure how restless your pupils became, eager for new perspectives. Maybe you need a fresher view other than the bright altar? If only you had your eye drops with you to alleviate the dryness, you certainly wouldn’t have felt this way.

As you blink once, twice, a couple more times, your eyes begin to feel better from the natural tears they make to lubricating itself. However, little did you realize where you were looking at.

From the altar, your vision went peripheral. By the second floor, right beside the choir, a silhouette stands up from their pew. Arms crossed and wrapping their arms around their blazer, he was rather suspicious. At this point, you’re quite acquainted with every guest present today. To the point that no one is meant to be seat up there unless you’re in the band.

You’re suddenly become aware that the longer you view that shadow, the weirder it’ll look for the guests. Your curiosity can really take you the far places, but often times, you need to be anchored before flying too far to the sun.

Speaking of which, the bright, shining light directly hits on the aforementioned shadow. Almost like a prayer, it heard you so it gave what you pleaded.

And man, you’re stunned by what unraveled before you.

His brown hair is styled upwards with a few strands in front of his forehead. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were folded to his elbows, while his black trousers have minor creases on the bottom hems. His eyebags darkened, showing lack of sleep on his end. However, his orbs greet yours with warmth. A reconnection, as you find it difficult to stray away. Dimples pop out as he smiles your way, fluttering your heart like a young teenager.

Why was it so familiar to you?

But there’s no way this was real, right? Have you started building delusions in your head as a coping mechanism to your upcoming lifelong misery?

You blink and shake your head for reassurance, but as you reopen your eyes, he was gone like magic. Yet his silhouette lingers through your mind. Alongside that, the ending words of the homily seeped through with a vengeance.

Or rather, redemption.

Because for some reason, the silhouette urged your mind to remember Jaehyun.

“The utmost beauty of these souls is how neither of them were looking when they found each other.” Insert the moment when Jaehyun emerges to the Bible study room for the first time 3 years ago. With a sinister grin and stance, he managed to lock strong eye contact on you as you were passing out Bibles to the other kids. How unshaken you were, yet so entranced by him.

“From meeting, in comes the unconditional love they’ll build.” The innocent memories of your relationship with Jaehyun when you started seeing each other romantically dance around your brain.

“In that love, they put effort everyday through the small things.” You’ve always liked white roses, while Jaehyun fancied sweet potato chips. Every getaway you both had, you’ve gifted each other with those items.

“In that love, it’s impenetrable to conquer every battle and fight that stampedes there.” If not your last encounter, there was one time you may have succeeded here. You recall defending Jaehyun from your parents at home when he put you trouble and “trouble” after Bible study. How even if he’s the so-called enemy, he’s a good person relearning what’s right from wrong. How he is not his family.

“And in that same love, it makes them feel at home.” Cue all the imaginative, future plans you and Jaehyun drunkenly made if your love story wasn’t an impossible tale. How you’d leave it up to the multiverse, you both giggled.

“So my brothers and sisters, in every story, these two souls here,” The priest naively refers to you and Doyoung. “It’s not a coincidence. The Lord knew what he was doing. He didn’t create a perfect love, but a love only the bride and groom would ever know and feel. Yet it’s a love He created in His likeness and image because He loves His children, and only bless them with eternal happiness with each other.”

In your parents’ eyes, they saw your future with Doyoung.

In your eyes, the future was set with Jaehyun. Wherever you are, all you can think of in every word the priest spoke.

And that future with him is ever so clear and beautiful…

Holy shit.

This wedding must not push through.

“Kim Doyoung and Lee (Y/N) have invited us to share in this celebration as they affirm their love before us, pledge their faith to one another and enter into the joys and privileges of marriage.” So caught up in your reverie, you’re back to standing up and facing Doyoung. The recitation of vows approaches. “If there is anyone present who can show just cause why these two persons may not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Stillness, much to your parents and Doyoung’s delight.

But now, you could care less about what others think. This needs to stop.

This is your life, and you’re reclaiming it as yours.

You need to run far, far away and find him.

Your real love, Jeong Jaehyun.

And to that, you pray within yourself:

“Oh Lord, save me, my drug is my baby. I'll be usin' for the rest of my life.”

“I can’t do this.” You object boldly, stepping back. “I can’t marry you, Doyoung.”

The audience behind you gasps, the priest and Doyoung especially. “What do you mean, (Y/N)?”

You felt so apologetic for his confusion. “You deserve someone who truly loves you without judgment.”

Your eyes peek over his shoulder to find a woman beside his younger brother Jungwoo quivers at the entire scene. The same woman whom you’ve found out was his first and only love, if not for you asking about her during your first encounter. Yet never did he act on his affections due to the standards of his family, and being the best friend of his brother. He feared of the consequences, but this is no time for fear.

It's time for action. If you’re going to make your move, so should he.

“Fight for your true love. Don’t make them take it away from you.” Your eyes linger momentarily on Doyoung’s real love. “Don’t let them take her away from you, and choose the life where you can be unapologetically and incandescently happy, Doyoung.”

No more words can Doyoung utter towards your plea, but instead lets his daring actions communicate back to you. It was the way his arms looped around her waist, hugging her for dear life. And how she gasped loudly the entire church can hear as she returned his empowering gesture, lacing her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry, Sejeong.” Doyoung whispers a little too loudly. “It’s you. It’s always been you, and will forever be you I love.”

Not a breath wasted, these two lovers rapidly make their exit through an emergency door of the church. Doyoung utters nothing more to his parents, but expresses disgust and anger at how he glares at them. I’m done with your shit, his eyes read. Oh, how his dear mother cries out for him to come back while his father holds her back. Jungwoo, on the other hand, claps at his brother’s impressive move. He didn’t even bother listening to his father who ordered him to chase after him.

“They’ve always been in love with each other. Who are you to tell me to stop them?”

Meanwhile, time is ticking for you. You’ve had your run at playing matchmaker, now you need to return to your lover. One you can hope will take you back after your cowardice pushed him back to the pits of hell, while you crawled back to your seat in heaven. Although tainted you are, nothing but a few prayers and consistent good deeds will gain favor from Him again.

And so you ran. Heels of your heels click clack the marble aisle as you remove your gloves. Your freed fingers grasp on the fabric on your gown to move arther and farther away from the altar. Guests are even more bewildered by your actions, never expecting you to turn out this way.

“Lee (Y/N)!” Only the frantic voice of your mother halts you. Call it a natural reaction when you’ve grown up under her care, her ever so manipulative and overprotective care.

You huff, turning around. “What is it, mother?”

Only a few meters away from you, her hand hurtfully grips your arm. “Ow!”

“You disgust me.” She spits. “How dare you embarrass our family like this?! Have you no conscience?! Why are you acting like a child?!”

You scoff, annoyed. “I think I should be asking you the questions.”

“Excuse me?!”

You yank your arm away from her sharp fingers. Your posture stands a little taller, which is your way to signify confidence. Bravery from her threats.

“All my life, you dictated my every move. You constructed me into this good, religious good girl image so others can stray away from the corruption of our family businesses. You banned me to make my own choices and live my own life because you solely believe that your and father’s choices are the best ones. You taught me misleading ideals and beliefs, urging me to hate others who don’t resonate with me and abandon those who are lower than me. And now, you attempted to sell my freedom for the price of overflowing greed.”

You blurt out every ounce of pain you’ve gained all your life, finally relieving yourself of the burden. If only you could see the proud expressions your older brothers sport from afar, while your younger brothers can admire your courage. You’re finally taking a stand so neither of them would face a situation like this.

“You are lying!” Your mother tries to fight back, even if her lips quiver. Never would she think her only daughter could turn out like this. “That’s a sin, young lady.”

“But nothing as worse as greed, mom. One of the seven deadly sins, like you once taught me.” You smirk.

“Do not dare talk back to your mother!” Your father joins the heated scene. “What happened to you, (Y/N)? How did you turn out like this?”

You laugh, placing a hand on your chest to hold yourself back. “Your sheltered, devious way of parenting me and my brothers led me here. So much for saying we’re a self-proclaimed “God-centered” family when we are far from th--”

Your outburst is dramatically cut off with a stinging slap from your mother. Your legs give out from the impact as your butt lands flat on the marble. The crowd is in a disarray from the sudden commotion, full from all this information. Information that’ll give every journalist and gossip meals for months.

Meanwhile, all your brothers race to your aid. This has gone too far.

“You’re no longer my daughter, but the daughter of Satan himself.” Your mother rages while your palm covers your reddening cheek. You can only yourself back because physical violence shouldn’t be responded with the same thing. And being Satan’s daughter? So be it. It’s better than being the offspring of your parents.

“If not Doyoung, us, or your brothers, who would ever love and accept your lost, pitiful soul?”

“I would.”

A deep voice sends shivers to your figure. Almost like he’s enraged, you swivel your head to the source like everyone else.

It was none other than the silhouette from earlier, emerging from the darkness of the aisle. Except now, he was no regular silhouette. It embodies more sharpness and tidiness, like prestige and power exalts his bones. Almost like a complete redo.

Speaking of which, what your eyes laid upon prior wasn’t a hallucination. The more light from the church and the sun combined shines through, you managed to piece their appearance.

And how stupid you feel not to have pointed it out. The voice alone should’ve knocked some sense of you, because it was none other than--

“Jaehyun.”

The mentioned man continues to strut out, gradually exposing and making himself known to everyone present today. And it’s without a doubt that the gossip from this event alone can feed a whole country, especially with your father seething from his stance.

“Why is there a Jeong in this immaculate event?” He blames. “Have you not learned from your probation and dare barge in my daughter’s wedding?”

“What wedding, sir?” Jaehyun smirks sinisterly, slowly approaching your feeble figure. “It’s more like I witnessed physical and verbal assault against your daughter. In fact, everyone did. Including the Lord himself.”

“I oughtta-” Your father prepares his fist to meet Jaehyun’s face, if not Taeyong’s swift hand catching it.

“Not today, father. And never.” He throws a death glare at his predecessor.

Simultaneously, Jaehyun’s hands reach out for yours. You wobble for a bit when you get up, but you find your balance. His rage and frustration soften into concern at your overwhelmed state, lifting the veil over your head to cradle your weary face.

“Are you okay, my love?” His palm soothes your aching cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t save you on time.”

“You--” You start to choke on your words. “You’re here. You came back for me.”

“Of course, I did.” He grins genuinely. “I should’ve never left you like that back then. Not when we needed each other the most.”

Before proper words can leave your scattered mind, your father screams like he witnessed a bloody murder.

“What is the meaning of this?! There’s no way this is the man you love, (Y/N)!” He screams, while your mother faints at the sight.

“Surprise, father.” You smile with mischief. “I fell in love with the so-called enemy, and I shall spend the rest of life eternally with him.”

“I object this union!”

“I don’t fucking care.” You curse without remorse. Sparing a loving glance at your man after, “Fuck you, mother, and everything else in this feud. I am done.”

Angrily, your father nearly charges in front of you and Jaehyun. But you’re spared in a flash if not for Taeyong and Mark pulling him back. Jeno and Haechan, on the other hand, hold on to her before she loses her consciousness again. And also avoid her from hurting you.

Ten calls out both your names from the side. Suddenly, a pair of car keys are thrown at your direction. Jaehyun catches them instantly.

“Save your sweet yet vengeful reunion someplace else and run! Now!”

You’ve completely forgotten how public this wedding was as every person spectate how you take hold of Jaehyun’s hand, leading you to a more private exit of the church. Taking the main doors will spark a frenzy by the paparazzi, and that’s the last thing you need on your agenda.

Now in the parking lot in the back, Jaehyun’s fingers from his free hand click the buttons of Ten’s car keys, One of the cars activates in perfect condition, lights flicking and beeping sonorously. And thank God, it’s right in front of you.

“Motherfucker, it’s a Ferrari.” Jaehyun marvels.

“Jaehyun, we gotta go!” You rush inside the shotgun, conscious of who may find the both of you.

It’s not a surprise that the journalists got ahold of your speeding departure since you have to drive out in front of the church to get away from it. Even if Ten’s windows were tinted so no one can detect who was inside, the guests finally vacated from the building and told their own versions of what unfolded in the supposed Kim-Lee union.

And while the news are brewing and buzzing, you and Jaehyun have absolutely no idea where to drive off to.

“That was insane!” You burst out. The adrenaline rush of it all still raced your veins, while Jaehyun’s attention is firm at the road ahead of him. “I never felt or done anything like this!”

He chuckles as his fingers retract to your hand again, lifting it to kiss the top. “You’ve turned into a bad girl, baby. What are we gonna do about that?”

“Would living a new, happier life for ourselves be the best way to avenge everything they’ve done to us?” You suggest. “I know we’ve been through a lot, but I was no better for letting you walk out like that without a proper fight for our love.”

Jaehyun sighs from the painful memory. “And I understood why you did. I had no right to pressure you into something so drastic when your family has already stressed you out enough.”

“But still!” You acclaim. “You’ve always fought for us, so I should’ve done the same before all of this happened.”

“So, you must truly love me.” Jaehyun attempts to lighten up the mood. Reaching a red light, he tilts his body to face you. Even after being chased down, he remains ever ethereal as beads of sweat rest on his brows and his once-perfectly done hair is crazily tousled.

“If I didn’t, I would’ve never caused a scene especially with God watching us.” You lean a little closer to him, resting both of your hands on his shoulders. If not for the car handle blocking you, you’d be sitting on his lap. “Because He sent you to me as a blessing. Not a curse from the devil, but a blessing who taught me to be brave and never take anyone’s shit.”

“Cursing like this still feels so new to me, baby.” The glimmer in his eyes darken with desire, moving closer to your lips.

“Better get used to it, sweetheart.” Merely inches left, your lips teasingly brush his. “It’s you and me until the end of the time.”

The confidence of your tone was met with the element of surprise when Jaehyun’s lips finally planted on yours. Your sultry yet romantic-filled words put all his senses of haywire, as if you bewitched him with your everlasting charms. Your lips curve into a smile as they part so his tongue can slide in. The taste of his favorite mint candy mellow your nerves down, easing you back to a calmer state of mind.

How you missed his touch.

How you missed his presence.

How you missed him, and everything that goes along with it.

As passionate as your affections are at the moment, it’s only to be interrupted by the loud, irritated honks from the vehicles behind you.

The red light has now turned green.

The two of you can only laugh in embarrassment, like two horny teenagers caught by their headmasters. Yet the youthful energy you both radiate remains. Jaehyun holds your hand again before stepping on the engine, rubbing the sides of your thumb.

“Oh, baby. I’d be more than glad to be sinfully vowed to you.”

5 YEARS LATER.

Jeong Estates and Co. secured the highest rank of top real estate companies within Seoul.

This wouldn’t be made possible if not for Krystal Jeong, second in line at the Jeong family business. One of the Jeong cousins rather. No bitter feelings she felt on getting the job. In fact, she’s more than ecstatic to acclaim the highest position in their clan. As for Sungchan, he just entered law school in high hopes of taking over his mother’s law firm. But only years after taking the bar exam then starting for the bottom up. Often times, he secretly gives his older brother a call on his burner phone or vice versa. No matter what, they are still brothers. Heck, highly urged him to chase after you when he found out the truth behind his older brother’s love for you.

Lee Properties, the real estate company of Lee Corporation, are more focused on expanding their branches across the world. Ranking no longer mattered, as long as the quality of their work constantly. Mark, under the guidance of Taeyong and Ten in the beginning, took over the company. Thanks to the three, they branched out to the US, UK, and Japan. Family-wise, the 5 brothers isolated themselves from their parents since that day. Everything has become business for them. Because they refuse to be associated with people responsible for the almost-downfall of their only sister.

The general feud between families remain unsolved, even after the mayhem of the failed wedding. Although there have been are rumors circulating that the brothers of each family made amends, but nothing has been confirmed. The tension intensified, and no dares to get in their loop.

People who work in media make sure to never put them in the same room for interviews or events. People working in their companies dare not to speak of the enemy company. Anyone who’s within the presence of any family member can only bow their head and pray they don’t get called out.

Most of all, everyone goes silent of the forbidden romance built between their each of their children.

That’s the thing with the Lees and Jeongs: they’re old-money royalty with filthy history. If you get in their way, might as well say goodbye to everything you worked hard for.

That’s how powerful they are.

Yet only two people defied all the odds.

Speaking of them, where do you and Jaehyun stand?

“I’m home!” Jaehyun greets loudly as he opens the door. He drops off his satchel of tools by the doorstep, removing his dirty loafers and switching to house slippers.

“In the kitchen!” You respond. Just in time for dinner, you love how prompt he is.

From behind, warm yet sweaty arms wrap around your waist. He must’ve had a long day, especially when he was gone the moment you woke up. But it’s not much of a worry since you also had a early start that day.

“Smells good here.” Jaehyun’s chin tucks on your shoulder. “What are we having tonight?”

“Homemade ravioli as a gift from Francesca next door,” You continue stirring the aromatic pan. “With tomato sauce made by me.”

“Delicious.” He sniffs. “I missed you.”

You giggle from his short kiss on your cheek. “I missed you too, but you reek off sweat.”

“When am I not?” He teases. “Gotta earn to maintain this roof on top of our heads.”

“Keep that habit up, or someone else here might make me vomit like last time.” Your free hand lowers his hands to the bump of your swelling stomach. Perhaps only now did you believe that there is one when it used to be slightly flatter.

“Speaking of which,” He rubs it gently. “How’s she today? No trouble?”

“Thankfully, no.” You turn the stove off, satisfied with the finished dish. Turning around, your hands situate themselves on your lower back. A new habit since your body has been adjusting to all these new changes. “I’m confident the nausea is subsiding, but now my feet hurt like crazy.”

“My love,” Jaehyun coos, caging you in his arms. “How about I take a quick shower, enjoy this meal you made, then give you a foot massage?”

“Oh yes, that sounds divine.” You hum, pecking his lips. “Now get off me. You seriously stink as fuck.”

So much for your mood swings, Jaehyun chuckles as he makes his way to the bathroom of your master bedroom. You roll your eyes st the playful man while you prepare the dining table. Yet you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Life ever since that crazy day became more peaceful and joyful. Freeing to retake the control you have over your life, whilst sharing it with the man you truly love.

For a couple of months, you and Jaehyun resided in a private cottage somewhere deep in Jeju Island. Only he knew of its existence because he himself built it from the ground up. Formerly in the real estate, he’s always had an interest for architecture. But instead of picking that major in college (because his parents were against it), he studied elsewhere with his own money. It clearly paid off as it gave the two of you the perfect hideaway from all the drama.

And led the most memorable of nights in your shared bedroom, especially you finally confessed your deepest desire of him fully taking your purity away. Sure, virginity is a social construct but you trusted Jaehyun with your life. After everything you’ve been through together, how can you not?

One kiss is all it took before he had you squirming and moaning on his cock, thrusting and hitting your sweet spots. His words of praise in every movement led you one step closer to heave. You see, heaven wasn’t just a place you go to when you die in good spirits. But it can be through a person.

And his name was Jeong Jaehyun.

Physically, your body turned sore the following day. But emotionally, you’re thrilled. He took good care of you like the passionate lover he is, but that’s bare minimum. We shouldn’t celebrate those things, though there’s something unique about it when Jaehyun carrying you to a warm tub and feeding you your favorite homemade meals that very day. To make up for hitting it too hard, he egotistically claims.

But can you blame him?

Exactly.

Later on, the two of you permanently migrated to the countryside area of Italy. Having loved the quiet side of Jeju Island whilst craving a new adventure, Europe took an interest to the both of you. Italy became your top choice if not for having individual traveling experiences there. And how you equally enjoyed its culture and aura.

Thus, you wanted to create more memories together and start anew. And by that, you and him rented an apartment within Tuscany and worked different jobs from your university majors.

From being a business management major, you became an English teacher at the local elementary school. You enjoyed taking care of children, teaching them all new things and encouraging them to be their best selves. There are also times you walk some of them home if their parents cannot fetch them. Holding your hand so they avoid any cars passing by, your heart is full when they obey and tell you all sorts of imaginative tales. You adore their curiosity, and you always make sure to be the best role model you can be.

From majoring in finance, Jaehyun ventured into construction and architecture. He was always hands on, conceptualizing and building all sorts of things for other people’s needs. It’s a plus that he’s always followed an active lifestyle, his muscles making it easier to bring those things to different destinations. The big boss of the business he works for can rely him on him big time, saving money on gas for the moving truck. So it’s no surprises girls attempt to throw themselves at him for his looks and strength. But it’s nothing you worry about.

Because at the end of the day, it’s still you he comes home to you. And makes you come until all the stars of the universe are within your periphery.

With all the money you both earn (and pawning your unnecessary designer items), it eventually becomes enough for two things: building a new house and your wedding.

There’s a piece of land Jaehyun’s boss gifted him as gratitude for expanding his business, which is near one of his beloved vineyards. Since that day, Jaehyun devoted time and effort to build your dream home. With some help with friends he made from work.

It meant sacrificing alone time with him, which did strike an argument or two. But it’s nothing too big you couldn’t resolve. Because you’re both sure that his efforts are going to be worth it.

And how beautiful the final output was. Modern with a rustic feel, there were 3 floors to your entire home. With a patio, there’s also a garden of various flowers and crops you and Jaehyun planted during the construction process. And now, they’re finally coming in full bloom this time around. After that, you can see the various vineyards which trails to the best view of the sunset.

Quite the villa, you two have. It has everyone in town wanting to take a visit whenever they can and how inviting you’d be to all of them for special occasions.

Upon tradition, the whole home was blessed by the priest before you fully moved in. And boy, nothing could hold you back from running through every furnished floor, only to hold and kiss your man for a job well done. But the mood became heated as his hands cup your butt and lifted you up as he lead you to your master bedroom.

Your wedding came shortly after. It was held at a small chapel within Tuscany, with locals you’ve befriended over time, your brothers, and Sungchan.

Yes, they accepted your private invitations and made sure not to disclose this event to anyone back home. Most especially, both of your parents.

You and Jaehyun feared your brothers wouldn’t get along the slightest. Initially, there was tension when you invited them to dinner at your new home. Mark, Haechan, and Ten inspected with Sungchan with suspicion, while the younger boy returns the judgmental loo. Jeno and Taeyong, on the other hand, fell silent as they didn’t want to utter a word at him.

Accepting Jaehyun took a while, so what more with Sungchan? He was outnumbered by your 5 prideful brothers, and based on the tales of your then fiancé, he was a good boy.

“Yah.” It was your sharp voice that cuts the tense air, which was a new experience for everyone. In fact, they’re all getting used to your newfound voice that’ll slice and dice anyone that disrespects you. “If you are all going to act like children, we’ll turn out m like our parents and those before. We’ll never end our feud, and hurt more people we love.”

“Whatever problems you have with each other, sort that shit out right now. Or we can kick you out, where the nearest motel is 4 hours away.”

So yes, you may have threatened them. But it does spark change within both families, especially when Jeno opened up about his interest for the law firm under Lee Corporation. He was in 2nd year of law school that time.

Instead of thinking as competition, Sungchan started up about his life as a freshman because it turns out that they’re studying in same school. Eventually, Mark and Taeyong came around to talk about their hobbies. And as for Haechan and Ten, they were responsible for filling up everyone’s wine glasses until everyone passed out in the living room.

You’re merely lucky how the wedding was still a week and a half away. But mostly, new friendships were made and you’re certain this will cause a major shift in the feud.

And finally, as you and Jaehyun said “I do” and sealed a kiss in front of your loved ones, off to your honeymoon you go. Funded by Taeyong and Ten (which you failed to reject out of embarrassment), you and Jaehyun went to your favorite Italian city: Milan. The both of you spent all the cash they gave to your heart’s content after putting them into your home and wedding, exploring the designer stores and shops of the locals.

With the former, it made you reminisce your younger self. The one who was so naïve to everything while she threw the money from mommy and daddy’s credit cards on bags and clothes. But now, designer items are just items with an esteemed name. Their worth is nothing compared to the culture of the locals back in Tuscany, and the love you continue to grow with Jaehyun.

It’s no wonder that over time, that same love eventually created something magical.

And it came in the form of your unborn child that you fiercely carry. It’s only like yesterday when you and Jaehyun anticipated in your bedroom for the tests you took. This came to be after your period not arriving, the weird food combinations you consume, and your mood swings being out of this world. Or that’s at least what Jaehyun shared, but he can be quite overdramatic at times.

As we return to the present time, you caress your hard tummy that holds so much life. How you feel the smallest flutter of your daughter as she continues to grow or the first time you heard her heart beat in the monitor. It still makes your heart soar when the doctor confirmed the gender of your baby. In a world of boys, another girl just like you made you feel complete. With Jaehyun, he’d have a little girl he can take to all sorts of adventures and dance around with.

Heck, he already made the crib from scratch from his excitement and cleared out one of your guest rooms for the baby. If that doesn’t soften your heart, you didn’t know what will. He’s always had a fondness for kids, especially with your profession. And now, the both of you shall have your own to take care and love.

5 months down, 4 more to go.

You lay on your back on the couch, resting your head by the edge. Your fingers skim through an open book as Jaehyun’s hands work their magic to relieve the constant ache of your feet.

“What matters most are the simple pleasures so abundant that we can all enjoy them...” You read aloud the text of your precious novel. The baby enjoyed being read to, whether it be from your or Jaehyun. Meanwhile, the mentioned man listens along as it is one of his childhood favorites. “Happiness doesn’t lie in the objects we gather around us. To find it, all we need to do is open our ey-”

A strong set of kicks to your gut interrupts your reading, a loud groan leaving your lips. Jaehyun’s alert to help you out, clutching on your stomach as you try to sit upright.

“What happened?” Jaehyun chides. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

“She…” Your eyes begin to well up. “She’s kicking for the first time.”

The baby wildly makes her presence known as she remains persistent in her actions. Stunned, your hands find Jaehyun’s and place them on your stomach. This has never happened to either you, and both of you wanted to treasure the moment.

Your husband keeps quiet upon his amazement in feeling his small feet of his baby girl. He smiles, changing his hand positions to find her in your womb. It’s almost like you’re raising 2 kids.

“That tickles, Jae!” You squeal, readjusting your stance. Back pain is becoming a bitch lately.

“Does it hurt?” His hands stay put in one spot near your belly button, where your daughter enjoyed to play around the most.

You give a tight-lipped smile. “Not really, but now it’s a bit bothersome.”

“Oh no…” He says with worry, head leaning near your tummy to speak to your daughter. “Baby, don’t hurt your mommy. She makes sure you’re strong and well, so be nice, okay?”

You gush from his words. Your mind is elated to create future scenarios of their father-daughter bonding, something you wish you had more of when you were younger. But you know your husband, the family guy he’s become. Because you both made an oath to never become your parents, to be better and wiser.

Finally, the kicks weakened and felt your daughter rest on one corner of your tummy. By this time, she’s fallen asleep. And by her actions, it exhausted you as well as her unofficial punching bag. Jaehyun, who was bound to resume his massaging, catches you yawn and stretch your arms out.

“Tired?” He asks, and you nod.

“I think I’ll continue reading the book tomorrow.” You close your beloved copy of the Little Prince, and pull your feet off from your husband’s lap.

“Wait.” He stops you, standing up before you do.

You quirk a brow. “Yes, babe?”

“There’s no way you’re walking up the stairs with sore feet.” Suddenly, he lifts you off the couch as he carries you bridal style. You shriek with shock, but not loud enough to disturb your baby.

“Jaehyun! Put me down!” He shakes his head. “Am I not heavy? I’m carrying your child after all.”

“Nothing will be heavy enough when it comes to you and our baby.” He reassures. “Now, let’s get both of you to bed, hmm?”

Refusing his advances would be an endless fight, so you concede the moment you nuzzle your head on his chest. Fresh laundry, his scent fills your nostrils. You loved the warmth when he’s close to you like this, nearly dozing off when he walks up the stairs. He was your home, and you don’t ever want to leave him.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, is enamored by you each passing day. He witnessed all your good and bad times, the latter especially as they eventually led to the better days of your shared life. He didn’t want to admit how afraid he was when you two eloped from everyone, but you’ve always known. He didn’t have to tell you because you put in your own efforts to make him feel at bay. That it’s okay to feel vulnerable, that it’s okay to take risks. Because you were both in this together, that’s in the vows you unofficially said back in Jeju Island and reiterated in your actual wedding.

Another thing Jaehyun loved about you was this endless glow when you’re passionate about your job at the school, stand up for yourself, and express true joy from the small, finer things in life. But there came a unique kind glow you embodied since you told him the news of your pregnancy.

It was a major step in any loving relationship, and if there’s anyone he’d experience it with, he’s blessed that it’s with you. Like he once said when you were younger, you are God’s favorite angel.

When he gently lays you down on your side of the bed, catching how your eyelids effortlessly fell down, he kisses your forehead. “Good night, angel.”

As he rests on the opposite side, your hand finds his chest.

“Jae.”

Surprised, he moves to face your side. Your lids may be droopy, but you had extra strength to carress his cheek with the same hand. Under the moonlight from your balcony doors, he looked effortlessly beautiful. Even with some greying hairs on his nape, wrinkles forming in his forehead, and eyebags darkening from his restless nights, your heart is full of love for him. Whether it’s from your hormones acting up or not, that’s never going to change.

He's a representation of your bravery, and how glad you are to take on the challenge to push for your love.

Because in the end, it all worked out like you both wanted.

“Hmm, baby?” His hand cup yours.

“Thank you for not giving up on me.” You place his other hand on your tummy again. “On us.”

“Thank you for fighting for our love, for showing those who doubted us that it has a place in our world.” Jaehyun shares an endearing smile, paving a way for his remarkable dimples. Some things don’t age, like your youthful souls. Ever so daring and adventurous, parenthood doesn’t sound like such a bad idea if it’s two of you embarking on it together.

“Even if it almost earned a punch from my dad?” The once-frightening memory earns a chuckle from both your lips. Little did your younger selves know what they’d face after.

“What can I say? I meant every word I say then, to be put in his place.” He defends. “And you know what else I meant that day?”

“Enlighten me.”

Oh, you can only feel real happiness and gratitude for the man in front of you. He is a man of his word, and proved endlessly with his actions. And he shall continue to do so for the rest of your lives.

“I’d be more than glad to be sinfully vowed to you, (Y/N). Forever and always.”

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ghosty-schnibibit · 9 months

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alright, so, now that i am not an incandescent ball of fury:

i was extremely disappointed with go2 and downright angry about the way it concluded. i've already read some excellent posts by other lovely people that articulate some of my grievances really well (which sadly i can't link here or the site will eat this post entirely) but i want to add my own to the pile. if you enjoyed the season then more power to you, but i very much did not.

after this post i won't be complaining about s2 again or really posting anything about it at all, positive or negative, and will probably just block the tag entirely. like i said in my much shorter vent post last night, i just want to get all of my negativity out in one go and then pretend it doesn't exist. with that out of the way:

the pacing was terrible. the plot went in circles around itself and the mystery was handled so poorly that it somehow managed to be too convoluted and too simple at the same time. we spent five entire episodes wondering what was going on only to have it resolved by an exposition dump of about five minutes. the mini-sodes ground multiple episodes to a halt and squandered the majority of the season's runtime on pointless fanservice that cheapened some of the previous season's most emotional moments, runtime that could have been better spent setting up the gabriel mystery or developing literally any of the new characters introduced. speaking of which,

the new characters were pointless. nina and maggie were given no characterization beyond being pale expies of az and crowley, and the fact that a substantial part of the b-plot revolved around them makes this even more apparent. i do not remember the name of the angel pretending to be a constable and i don't care enough about them to look it up, they had literally no plot significance whatsoever. same goes for the processing demon from the third episode. the flip with jax from being a somewhat neutral character to a big bad in a party city wig felt like a failed attempt to recapture some of what made hastur and ligur work in the previous series.

gabriel and beelzabub. their relationship was unbelievable and clashed so heavily with their previous characterizations. i called it from the first episode and dreaded its conclusion right up to the finale. they feel like an ill-thought parody of ineffable husbands pulled out of an enemies-to-lovers crackfic. every romantic moment in the last episode was insipid and cloying, and them getting a consequence free happy ending retroactively cheapened the stakes of the previous season. it honestly felt like the writers just wanted to mash their dolls together.

aziraphale's character was assassinated and crowley was basically just there to play the hits. both of them were flanderized to the moon and back, but poor aziraphale got the worst of it. all of his character development from the previous season was thrown out the window in order to give us the big angsty conclusion set-up for a third season. they were both utterly flattened and i feel so bad for michael and david, they were clearly doing the best with what they were given but what they were given was just plain bad.

most of the humor and warmth from the book and the previous season were just… gone. no narrator, only one or two comedic asides from the title cards, a total of maybe three minutes of queen music across the whole thing (and most of that a piano cover), and a whole lot of little stylistic touches that went by the wayside and left the world feeling a bit hollow. also the comedy in this season was much more reliant on a "hey, aren't the characters acting so silly right now? aren't they failing at looking/acting normal? isn't that funny?" style of humor than on the wit and subtle satire of the first.

it was nothing but set up for a third season. learning this after finishing the season did not make me feel better about any of it, but it does explain a bit why it felt like all set up and no pay off. i have zero confidence about the ship being righted in a potential s3 that we likely will not see for many years (if at all, i'm already hearing murmurs about the show getting axed).

so that's basically it. i'll reiterate that if you enjoyed this season then i have no beef with you; your opinions are your own and, while i have no desire to have a dialogue about them, i respect them. but the original good omens book was very personally meaningful to me, as was its adaptation in s1, and this poorly thought out continuation has disappointed and saddened me to the point that i feel like i don't want to engage with the fandom in its wake.

#go2 spoilers #good omens 2 critical #good omens 2 negative #i know the ship dealio is where i disagree with people the most #bc i'm seeing a lot of people who have a lot of the same critiques of the pacing and tone but like beez and gabriel together #to which i will simply say i'm sorry your otp is my notp and move along my merry way like the fandom veteran i am #and with that i shall disappear into the void again

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drunkewok · 5 months

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Tiger Inside Chapter Twenty-Eight

Stray Kids Mafia (ongoing)

Masterlist

Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated

WC: 3.8k

Pairing: Lee Know x reader

Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, violence, weapons

Disclaimer: Any portrayal of Stray Kids or any other idols in this story is purely fiction and do not at all reflect their own personalities or how I view them as a person, it is purely for the sake of the story.

Please do not copy or repost my work

The fall of night came upon us quickly, the clock ticking closer to the beginning of my fake shift at Blossom. With the pull of a zipper, I flattened the fabric of my skirt down, studying my outfit in the mirror.

It had definitely been a while since I adorned the stylistic choices of a cocktail waitress, a skirt a bit too short and tight for my liking and leaving little to the imagination, legs only covered by a pair of tights. Although the need to make some alterations to my normal top choice presented itself fairly quickly. While my choice commonly had been a snug tank top, I had made the decision to go for a well fitted v-neck t-shirt instead. The thought had crossed my mind that it might not be taken lightly by our regulars that I had vanished into thin air, only to return unexpectedly with a gunshot wound to the shoulder.

I ran my fingers through the curls in my hair, ensuring everything was laying flat and proper, and did a final check of my makeup. I was back to my masked character, and double checked in the mirror that I still possessed the ability to adorn a fake customer service smile.

Grabbing a pair of heels, preferably one with a thicker heel to assist me in the snow, I pulled my purse from my bed and started my way out my bedroom door.

Faint voices carried from downstairs, everyone having clearly started to congregate together before heading out. I pulled myself around the end of the bannister, starting down the hallway towards Seongho leaning in the archway into the living room. He slowly turned at the sound of my footsteps, his gaze traveling down my body before returning to my eyes.

“Well look at that, you can still clean up nice.”

“Oh shove it.” I pushed past him as he snickered, making my way into the room and taking a seat at a stool before fastening my heels.

The majority of the group was already there stretching from the kitchen to the living room, only lacking the presence of Felix and Jeongin.

I settled my feet back on the ground before placing my hands on my knees, staring at Chan.

“So what car am I supposed to be taking?” Before Chan had a moment to answer, a set of keys was tossed in my direction as I quickly caught them in my hands. My eyes followed where they came from, giving Jisung a quizzical stare.

“Figured since you’re already familiar with mine you should take it.” My head tilted as I tried to understand what he was implying, my mouth dropping before I had a chance to speak. “Your joyride?” My lips quickly snapped shut, ears burning as I felt blood rush to them.

“Jisung, I’m sorry, I didn’t know whose car I was taking I just-” He quickly waved me off, shushing me in the process.

“Nah, no need to apologize. Just take care of her.” I gripped his keys with a smile and nod, agreeing to his terms.

“Well with that, we should probably get going.” I beckoned Seongho towards the door, the two of us heading out separately from the group. I stopped to give the boys a small wave of goodbye, only just now realizing Minho’s eyes drilling into the back of my head before I quickly pulled myself from his line of sight.

I linked my arm in Seongho’s as we made our way down the front steps towards the car I recognized all too well, the lights flickering as I hit the unlock.

“Heading to work together, just like old times.” He chuckled, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Tell me about it, this feels really weird.” I made haste in turning on the engine, praying for a quick warm up to distract myself from my far too exposed skin in the winter weather.

The radio was barely a quiet hum, the melody faint as I drove. I was losing myself in my thoughts with each passing streetlight, a tight knot in my throat making residence as I tried to ignore exactly what tonight would entail.

“I've been meaning to ask you-” Seongho’s voice broke the silence, only turning to me after I pulled my eyes from the road to glance over to him. “-how have the nightmares been lately?”

“Surprisingly, not too bad.” I focused back to the street in front of me, pulling the car around a corner. “They've been a lot less frequent.”

“That's good to hear.” He fell back into silence for a moment, hesitating on his next words. “When this is all over… Do you think you'll stay with them?”

My hands gripped the steering wheel as I realized the thought hadn't truly crossed my mind, having been too focused on the current situation to really think ahead.

“I… I'm not sure to be honest.”

“I think you should.” I glanced over to him, Seongho instead choosing to stare forward and avoid eye contact. “They're good people. I can see how much they all care for you, and you seem to be thriving with them. Much more than you did at home.”

“But what about you?”

“What about me? I'll be fine. Especially now that I'll know you'll be taken care of. Someone’s gotta be looking after your stubborn ass.”

I glanced at him with a soft smile and a chuckle, reaching over and taking his hand in mine with a squeeze. In that moment, the past and future didn’t matter. I had those who cared about me close, defending each other’s backs no matter what.

With the car securely parked, we made our way to the front door together just as we had for so many years. Seongho jiggled the lock, trying to pull the door closer to him to work with the janky lock. The door finally swung open, I entered before him, switching on the lights and bringing the room to life.

Stepping into the break room, my eyes fell on the line of lockers on the far end, the one so familiar to me still with the name Siu written across the top of it. I turned to Seongho, my bottom lip jutting out in a subtle pout.

“You never took it off?”

“Of course not…” He stared forward to the locker, an emotional mask trying to hide the hurt behind his eyes. “I kept hoping you’d come back. Plus, I didn’t want any of the newbies to take it.”

I stepped forward and put in the code I remembered, swinging the door open to see it exactly as I had left it, except for a handwritten note sitting on the bottom as if it had been pushed through the vents at the top of the door.

“I slipped that in there…” Seongho spoke over my shoulder as I bent down to pick up the piece of folded paper. “Just in case you came by to clear out your locker when I wasn’t here.”

“I’m so sorry Seongho.” With a pained groan I turned and wrapped my arms around him, burying my face into his chest. “I’m so sorry for how I left, you didn’t deserve that.” His hand settled on my back, rubbing gentle circles.

“There’s no need to be sorry, I understand.” His chin settled on the top of my head as I tried to fight off the tears of my heart shattering into a million pieces. “At least now I know what was going on, and I’ve got you back no matter what, that’s all that matters to me.”

“Stop, you're going to make me cry and this is fresh makeup.” I pulled back, playfully pushing him away by his chest and staring to the ceiling, trying to blink away the moisture building on my lash line as I fanned my face with my hands.

With a huff I reached into my purse, pulling out two small skin-toned earbuds before tucking the bag into the locker. I grabbed Seongho’s wrist, pulling his hand out and placing one into it.

“Felix gave me our earpieces, go ahead and put this in.”

“Ohhh how official.” He fumbled with it for a second, trying to get it to sit snugly in his ear before pulling his hair to the side to allow me to check it.

“But can you hear me in it?”

Seongho blinked for a second as my voice echoed from in front of him, to inside his ear, before giving me a nod and a thumbs up.

“Fantastic. So let’s head out there and pretend it’s any old normal day.” As we headed out to the main room my body quickly turned on auto pilot, the strange feeling of recounting old steps quickly coming back to me.

The mahogany gave its familiar response to my heels against the wood, the noise clear amongst the sea of empty tables. I checked each surface for the proper stocking to start the night, before pushing open the door to the VIP suite.

I flipped the switch, bathing the room in light as I ensured all chairs were in place and ready for the two groups' arrival. I leaned against one of the chairs, surveying the room with a sigh. In such a short amount of time, negotiations would be taking place around this table.

I left the light on behind me as I crossed back into the main room, watching Seongho assemble two shots on the bar in front of him before it was time to unlock the door.

“Don't tell Chan I'm taking a shot before this.” I said with a chuckle, grabbing the glass and clinking it against Seongho's.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

With the doors finally open, the atmosphere within the lounge was warm, so many joyous smiles and cheers from regulars as they stepped in the door to notice me standing before them.

I continued my routine as normal, the circling of the room, a balancing act with a tray of drinks, and conversations with our regulars as they updated me on how life had been treating them.

My muscle memory movements were halted as the door chimed, signaling an entry as I looked up. Chan was the first to come in, closely followed by Minho and Changbin.

The three of them look crisp, and I couldn’t help freezing for just a moment. Their faces were stoic, standing tall and walking with confidence. I quickly swallowed the lump in my throat as they neared closer, trying to flash a smile as Chan came to a halt before me.

“What may I help you gentlemen out with today?”

“We have a reservation for your VIP room” Chan let the smallest of smiles cross his cheeks before continuing “just waiting on the rest of our party.”

“Yes, I’ll be glad to show you three back.” I promptly turned on my heels, leading them through the crowded room to the back hall before ushering them into the VIP room.

Chan crossed to the opposite side of the table, taking his seat in the middle and letting the serious mask finally drop.

“I didn’t know you had the ability to be so polite.” Minho snickered as he crossed behind me, letting the door close behind us.

“Oh please, not something you should be getting used to.” I gave him a side eye as I glanced over my shoulder before my gaze took on a mind of its own, scanning over his figure and only just now becoming aware of his appearance.

His clothes were a bit too perfectly tailored to his body. Dressed in strictly all black, the sleeves of his button up rolled to the elbow emphasizing the contrast of his skin as his arms crossed in front of him, his long black tie tucking behind them.

“You get a nice look? Or should I do a little turn for you?” My eyes darted to his, snapping me out of my daze as I found the smirk plastered across his face with head tilted.

My mouth opened and closed for a moment as I tried to formulate a sentence, heat quickly growing in my ears as I felt the room closing in on me with his gaze. With a clear of the throat, I broke our eye contact as I quickly looked at Chan, choosing to ignore Minho entirely.

“Are there any drinks or anything you’d like me to bring you guys?” Chan and Changbin both snickered as they tried to suppress their grins, eyes darting between Minho and I as they attempted to stay level.

“No, I think we’ll be alright, but thank you.” Chan smiled as he sat back in his chair, interlacing his fingers in his lap.

“Don’t think that just because I’m pretending to be on the clock means I’m not able to kick all of your asses.”

“Not with that shoulder you’re not!” Minho called out with a snicker as I quickly flipped him off before shutting the door behind me.

Re-centering myself, I settled my skirt down and stepped back into the main room. My eyes fell on Seungmin, now tucked away in a booth in the back corner. He gave a subtle nod of acknowledgement before my feet took me on my rounds of the floor once more.

I tried to keep my eyes from the door, a surprising level of nerves starting to settle in my stomach at the realization that Big Bang would be stepping into the building at any moment.

Slipping over to the bar, I leaned against the counter and watched Seongho as he prepared a drink for the patron standing beside me. I turned and let my eyes scan the crowd while I waited, doing another visual check-in with Seungmin, before the guest beside me walked away with drink in hand.

“So help me god if people don’t stop ordering the most off the wall cocktails tonight..” Seongho mumbled as he tidied up his work space, leaning his hands onto the bar as he looked at me with an irritated stare.

“Oh god forbid people ask you to do your job, bartender.” I mocked with an exaggerated emphasis on his title.

“I’m about to put up a sign that says no obscure cocktails plastered directly above my head, you can’t stop me.” He flung his towel over his shoulder, attention quickly pulled to a new patron stepping up to the end of the bar.

“Excuse me, I was told to speak to a Siu in terms of a reservation.” A smile quickly spread across my cheeks as the voice came from behind me, my chest swelling before turning to see Jiyong standing behind me.

His cheeky grin in return warmed my heart, a familiar face bringing such joy after being separated by a painful stretch of time. My body moved before I had a chance to stop myself, quickly wrapping my arms around him with a squeal, all plans of acting professional promptly thrown from a window.

“Would you look at that, a dead girl walking.” Taeyang spoke from beside him, a chuckle leaving his lips as I pulled from Jiyong and gave Taeyang a swift punch to the arm.

“It's not my fault none of you thought to actually confirm if I was alive or not.” My eyes studied the men before me, my brows creasing in confusion as I counted them. “Wait… where's Seung-”

“We've got some things to catch you up to date on, Seungri being one of them. But this is not the place for that.” Jiyong's face quickly grew serious, the other three quickly avoiding my gaze.

“Did he leave? What happened?”

“Like I said, this isn't the place to explain. We had a mission go south.”

My heart dropped into my stomach, the unexpected news feeling as though it was hitting me with the force of a fully loaded freight train.

“We'll get you updated after tonight, okay?” His face softened as his hand rested on my arm. I swallowed the painful lump that was firmly lodged in my throat, before giving him a solemn nod in response.

“Right, okay.” I attempted to shake off the painful feeling, squeezing my eyes shut before resuming my customer service smile. “Let me show you back to our VIP room.”

The four followed closely behind me as I led them down the hall, giving two brief knocks to the door before poking my head in.

“They're here”

“Ah, yes yes.” Chan ushered me in. I stepped to the side, holding the door open and beckoning the others inside.

“Let me introduce you all” the door clicked shut behind us, my hand gesturing to each of the men standing before us. “G-Dragon, Taeyang, TOP and Daesung.”

Chan rose from his seat, followed closely by Minho and Changbin, as he reached a hand out and shook each of their hands respectfully.

“It's an honor to meet you all, the names Bang Chan, and these are my men Minho and Changbin.”

“Please, now that we'll be working together I don’t see the need for our discreet names.” Jiyong was quick to brush him off, each of them properly introducing themselves with their birth names.

“It’s good to hear that you guys are already confident in the choice to work with us.” Chan smiled as he gestured to the seats in front of them, offering the others to sit.

“Well if y/n here hasn't driven you all to madness yet, clearly you’re a strong bunch.” Jiyong smiled back at me, chuckling as I returned a roll of the eyes. He turned back to Chan, a fake grimace crossing his face. “I hope she hasn’t given you all too difficult of a time.”

“She has her moments, but we’re glad to have her.”

“You guys do realize I’m still here, right?” The two leaders let out a laugh in unison, my lips pressing into a line at their immediate teaming up against me. “Right. Okay. That’s my cue to get back out to the floor. Let me know if there’s anything I can provide for you all.”

With a subtle bow I excused myself from the room, trying to ignore the smile taking over my face, the effortless camaraderie between the two teams bringing a warmth to my heart.

Out on the main floor, things seemed to still be progressing as normal, nothing out of place and nothing out of the ordinary. Pacing the room, I continued making stops by each table, checking with each patron for any needs. I scanned around the lounge, making a mental note if I had checked in with everyone as my eyes landed on the bar.

Seongho was hunched forward, speaking to someone sitting across from him of much smaller stature. Seongho had a smile plastered across his face, the occasional laughter leaving him before looking up and making immediate eye contact with me. He motioned with his head for me to come closer, a grin as he nodded towards the gentleman in front of him. I scurried over, Seongho calling out just before I reached him and leaned onto the bar beside Hyunmin.

“Siu! Let me introduce you!” Seongho held his hand towards him. “Siu, this is Hyunmin, Hyunmin this is Siu.” Hyunmin held his hand out as he turned his head towards me, my stomach immediately dropping into my ass the moment our eyes made contact.

“Siu! What a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard so much.” His smile stretched across his face, smug and cocky as my eyes scanned his. I should have expected this, Hyunmin didn’t exist.

The person sat beside me was Wooyoung.

I forced a smile as I took his hand, worried that I had already let my face drop in an instant moment of panic. I had only seen his face in grainy photos, but there was no mistaking him. His tongue ran across the inside of his cheek as his smile faded into a subtle glare, the grin flashing back once turned to Seongho.

“Took you a while to finally introduce me!” Wooyoung’s playful demeanor was quickly back, head cocking to the side with a pouty lip. “Was starting to think you were trying to keep me a secret.” Seongho quickly shook his head, hand settling on top of Wooyoung’s.

“Not at all, Siu’s just had it a bit hectic lately and hasn’t had much time.”

“Oh I’m so sorry to hear that.” Wooyoung turned back to me with a vomit inducing excuse of fake empathy, my blood quickly starting to burn hot as I forced a smile.

“Well it was my pleasure to finally meet you Hyunmin, but I surely should be checking in with our guests. Please don’t let me intrude on you two.” I gave each of the boys a nod before stepping away from the bar, eyeing Seungmin in the back corner.

“Seongho. You’re going to listen to me very carefully.” Once toward the back hall and positive I was out of earshot, I turned on my heels and gazed back to the bar. Seongho tried to look like he was scanning the crowd, instead being a bit too obvious that he was focused on me. “Don’t look at me. As far as Hyunmin knows, I’m not speaking in your ear right now.”

Seongho smoothly broke his gaze toward me, instead giving Hyunmin a smile before collecting the glasses around him and attempting to appear busy.

“Hyunmin isn’t who he says he is.” Seongho continued a conversation with the man seated before him, his flirty smile returning in an instant as he tried to deflect.

“Y/n. Is everything okay in there?” Minho’s voice cut through the radio quietly, right alongside the pounding of my heart in my ears.

“He’s a member of Ateez, Seongho. His name is actually Wooyoung.” I turned back to Seungmin, who’s sharp eyes cut through the crowd toward the bar in an instant.

“Do we have eyes on anyone else?” Minho’s voice was slightly louder, clearly not trying to discreetly whisper in front of Big Bang anymore.

“Dear patrons of Blossom!” A loud voice boomed from the doorway. My head snapped away from Seungmin, eyes quickly falling on the entrance where a dark figure in a long trench coat stood tall. Gun held firmly at his side, his head rose slowly to scan the room. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it looks like we’ve got to close a little early today.”

Song Mingi slowly stepped to the center of the room, brows raised in offense as he scanned through the patrons, all frozen to their seats in silence but all eyes fixed on him. In a split instant, a gunshot rang out with his gun pointed directly in the air, piercing a hole through the ceiling. “I SAID OUT!”

The room delved into a moment of chaos as people quickly rose from their seats and ran for the exit, a sea of panic as they tried to funnel out the door to safety.

The wild card has arrived.

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@venusmoonxnight @leagreenly @moonlight-the-writer @jamlessstars @ishz @minbinboo

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thisisourlovestory · 4 months

Text

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Word count- 2.8k

Notes: Happy New Year! Hope you enjoy this one. My phone deleted half of it so I had to rewrite it but that worked in my favour and I think it’s better than it was

Chapter 3

The next morning I was awoken by knocking at my door. Assuming it to be Lysander I ignored it and took my sweet time getting ready, taking a long shower under burning water, brushing my teeth vigorously, loosely clipping back the front strands of my hair and slipping on a pale blue dress from the wardrobe in the wall before making my way to the dining area. I followed the smell of freshly cooked bacon and pancakes, my mouth watering as I sat down and took a few pancakes, stacking them up, cutting a slab of butter that melted as soon as I dropped it on top, drizzling sticky sweet syrup over them and layering bacon on top. I grabbed a fork and dug into my towering pillar of food, the salty bacon contrasting with the sugary syrup. I polished it off in no time at all and reached for the piles of jewel like fruits, stacked in tiny ceramic bowls in the centre of the table. I had just bit into a slice of watermelon, pink juice dripping down the corner of my mouth, when Mags walked in with Lysander who flaunted a garish purple and gold striped suit and he began to speak as loudly as ever as I quickly wiped my chin.

“Good morning!” My head hit the table.

“Goodness Y/N, did you not get enough sleep last night?” He asked, looking at me with slight concern.

“I'm fine thank you for asking,” I answered, “Just woke up a bit too early.” I rubbed my head, smiling sheepishly and his gaze softened.

“That simply won't do!” He exclaimed, “We need you to be on top form for when you’re in the arena.”

“Lysander.” I called out softly, interrupting what was sure to be a long tirade. “I… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for my outburst yesterday. I don't know what I was thinking. I suppose, well I suppose I was just a little overwhelmed by all this. I hope you can forgive me. “ I twisted a strand of my hair in my fingers and he took the bait immediately. I could almost see what he was thinking. Such a kind girl, she must be terrified, very sweet of her to apologise. His eyes gained a look of sympathy as he raised a hand to his heart and walked over to me.

“It's quite alright dear, no need for apologies. I completely understand you must be feeling absolutely terrified of all this. You did such a kind thing volunteering for Miss Cresta, so selfless, dear and I’m sure she appreciates it very much.” I nodded, going back to my food, and he clapped. “Now that's all sorted out, we need a plan for you.” He looked me up and down, assessing me as Mags grinned into her bowl at the look on my face. “I'm thinking we play the innocent card, the fact you were so young when you won will help with that a lot. You are one of the youngest in the games this year after all. We simply must also use the fact that you are a true performer and ballet is such a beautiful art form indeed so,” he turned to Mags, “I propose we paint her as an angel.”

I choked on a piece of watermelon, the apprehension on my face giving way to horror. Mags patted me gently on the back and I straightened in my seat, sending a grateful smile her way as Lysander continued, lost in his own world.

“Of course only your stylist can decide this but I’m fairly certain I can put in a word and if they didn't already have the same idea after watching the reaping then I'll eat my hat.” I eyed the purple monstrosity on his head and imagined it being stuffed into his mouth, wondering if maybe that would be the thing that would finally shut him up. I wanted to scream at him, tell him that I was no angel and he was a monster for finding some kind of pleasure in this, deciding what part I should play as I die. Instead I just smiled slightly and lowered my head to stop him from seeing the tears in my eyes. At that second Finnick walked in and Lysander's attention was immediately drawn to him. I sat silently as he practically interrogated him, asking how he was feeling, if he thought he could win. The answers were short, not letting anything interesting slip but giving enough to satisfy Lysander and fool him into thinking he was basically his new best friend. I zoned out part way through Lysanders rant about what the Gamemakers would throw at us this year- as if we hadn't all been thinking about it since they were announced. Suddenly, I was brought back to reality by the sound of my name.

“Y/N, Y/N.” I blinked and my gaze shifted to Lysander.

“Sorry.” I muttered

“Quite alright dear, you must be tired if you didn't get enough sleep. We're going to watch the games you were both in, for reference.” My mind didn't register the words and I simply nodded before I realised what he had said and my eyes widened in shock.

We watched Finnicks first, since he won before me. From the reaping all the way through to the crowning ceremony. He was confident in the interviews, dressed in the most impeccable suit and tie, clearly designed to show off his beauty, laughing at Caesar Flickerman's comments and responding with his own witty quips, not just a pretty face at all. Then utterly deadly in the arena. For the first few days he had lain low, not much excitement but enough to keep sponsors interested. Then he got the trident, the most expensive gift ever seen, and it was over. District 4 was fishing after all, and it seemed Finnick Odair was born to wield the trident. He captured tribute after tribute in a net and killed them all, offering no mercy. And finally the last cannon went off announcing him the winner. Fourteen years old and he had won, the youngest victor, the most handsome victor, the Capitol darling. Finnick Odair. If he was that good back then, I had no doubt he would be extraordinary now. He had it all as well, the looks which first made the Capitol love him, he was intelligent, and undoubtedly one of the best fighters that would be going into the arena. Mags and I sat there speechless as Lysander congratulated Finnick endlessly.

“And how you used that trident, extraordinary! I don't believe you'll struggle in these games now that you've had ten years to practise.” I could only think of how young he'd been, how he'd been forced to grow up so quickly after, how he'd won- but what was the cost?

Then my games were switched on; I saw myself going through it all over again. The walk up to the stage after my name was called, all eyes on me. The chariot ride where they had dressed me up as a mermaid, all shimmering fabrics and a golden crown. The interview, where Caesar asked me questions about my life back home and I answered quietly, barely audible, playing the sweet little girl as I danced for them momentarily. The arena, my frightened face as the boy from 10 died in front of me, running and hiding. Then a cut to as I made my first kills, I saw the light leave their eyes as the blood left their bodies. Another cut, to the chase and confrontation with Arion, the second the knife left my hand I closed my eyes and the thud as it hit him echoed in my ears.

They showed the crowning ceremony last, I stood calmly on the dais with my hands clasped in front of my body. I had been made to wear a white dress that fell to my knees and had a red bow tied around it. The same red adorned the pins in my hair, shaped like roses, and the single gem hanging from a silver chain around my neck. The significance was not lost on me, young as I was. I had killed three people in the arena so I wore three pieces of red. One for each of them, the crimson colour their blood on my hands. President Snow walked up slowly and placed the golden laurels on my head. He looked down at me, a small smile on his face as I gazed up at him, he whispered something that only I could hear. Words that left me pale and confused, words that could have been good but in the circumstances only sounded like the promise of a life of pain. His mouth moved on the screen and I read his lips.

“The Capitol will love you.” He stepped away and proclaimed me their victor. And it struck me how I looked so tiny compared to him and everyone around me, as the Capitol roared with applause and my big eyes stared out over them, disbelieving and uncertain before the tape ended leaving the compartment in silence.

I shoved my seat back, the legs screeching on the floor, and stood up quickly. Everyone turned to face me as I stayed still for a second.

“Y/N.” Lysander began but I cut him off.

“No, I just, I need to, I can't.” My brain was jumbled, old memories being dragged to the surface unwillingly. So I turned and I ran.

I sprinted along the train, pushing doors open as I ran through the compartments. Avoxes jumped out of my way as I barreled past them, looking at me in curiosity. I came to the end of the train and held my hands in front of me to push through the doors. I crashed through them and fell into the railing. I gripped onto the cold metal as if it was the only thing keeping me in reality, the wind rushed past me and my hair floated in front of me, strands whipping in the cold air. I could barely see, tears blurring my vision and hair covering my face. I took a shuddering breath, letting the cold air flood my lungs, and I broke. I cried and cried and cried. Letting out everything that I had kept bottled up for seven years. I had cried before, that day on the cliffs, that was for the games, for the fact that it was happening all over again for so many people across Panem. But this. This was for me. For every pain I had endured since I won, the evenings spent dancing and singing under lights focused solely on me, the fear of making a mistake stopping me from enjoying it fully, the nights spent alone, unable to sleep because of the nightmares, the days spent wandering around like a lost soul, wondering if it would ever be better than what it was.

So I cried for myself, in one selfish moment I allowed myself to only care about myself. Tears dripped down my face, droplets falling on the railing for what felt like forever. Eventually my throat grew raw and my eyes seemed to run out of tears to cry. I dropped my head forwards into my hands and my eyes glazed over with the memories I had suppressed.

I was no longer on the train headed to the Capitol. I was in the arena. Perched on an icy tree branch, pressed against the tree trunk to keep from slipping off. Hidden by the frozen leaves in the white fluffy clothing they had given us to wear. A tribute ran underneath my hiding spot, running away from something, two others followed chasing him. I immediately recognised them as career tributes, this was all just a game of cat and mouse to them. And they caught him. I shoved a piece of cloth in my mouth to stop myself from letting out any noise that would give myself away and clapped my hands over my ears to block out the noise of his screaming in pain and crying out for help from someone as they ripped into him, their laughter echoing in the otherwise silent forest. A warning that they were on the hunt and if you valued your life you would get out of there as soon as possible.

I had stayed in that tree for the first few days until I was eventually forced to move when the gamemakers released mutts into the arena. Great big slobbering beasts that lumbered along harmlessly until someone tried to kill one. Then all hell had broken loose as they chased tributes up trees and then hurled themselves unrelentingly at them, bringing them down and mauling them beyond recognition. They brought about the deaths of five tributes before they just disappeared, presumably called back out after doing their job.

I snapped out of my daze as I felt someone standing next to me. My gaze cleared as I pushed the memories back into a locked box in my mind. I didn’t need to look to know who it was, the mark on my wrist burning and on instinct I pulled my sleeve down and took a small step to the side to lessen the sting. It eased immediately from the small distance between us and faded to a dull throbbing. Finnick said nothing at my movement and we just looked out over the passing countryside, rolling green fields, trees that touched the sky and vast lakes stretching beyond the horizon. We stayed like that, peaceful, just taking it all in until he finally broke the silence.

“You were so young.”

I smiled bitterly, resting my chin on my open palm propped up on the railing.

“We all were but we had no choice. They just want to watch their games. And they don’t care if innocent children die so they can have them.” I laughed slightly. “Then they get the one that lives.” I shook my head, my fingers tightening on the rail, the cold metal biting into my skin. “They get to kill us then they get to keep us.” I turned around, leaning backwards onto the railing and looked up, watching the clouds move slowly away in the blue sea of the sky. Then the Capitol came into view, towering buildings taking up the skyline, marring it with grey,

“I'm going to go back in,” Finnick said, following my line of vision, “You should as well.” With that he stepped back into the train, not sparing a second glance as I watched him walk through a set of doors and out of sight. I relaxed as he left and stayed in my position, head tilted skywards, eyes closed until I felt tiny drops of water on my face. I opened my eyes to see rain falling, a light drizzle but enough to dampen my clothes and hair, I laughed slightly and walked inside, the warmth hitting me in a blast. I hadn't realised how cold I'd been before but the heat warmed me and my clothes quickly dried off. I looked over my shoulder as I walked through the doors that slid open, the rain pattering on the windows lightly, a last glimpse of normality.

I quickly made my way through the train, hearing Lysander screeching at unfortunate avoxes to find me as if I was missing and he had no idea where to find me. I stepped into the compartment to see him looking frazzled, he immediately caught sight of me standing unsurely at the edge of the room and gave a dramatic sigh of relief.

“Not to worry everyone she's here.” The train jolted to a stop. “We have arrived.” Lysander practically squealed and eyed me.” Dear, you should just fluff out your hair a bit, and try to look happy for the cameras.” I nod my head once and plaster a smile on my face. He nodded in approval.

We made our way to the doors. Finnick and I stood either side of Lysander and Mags was just behind us. I can see people through the windows already, screaming and shouting with excitement.

“Now everyone, remember this is the first time they will see you so make sure to leave a good impression. That means smile and wave, blow a few kisses if you have to.” Lysander told us, focusing his words mostly on me. A bell rang and he quickly turned around to me, perfecting everything he could see wrong, the tiniest hair out of place, my sleeves at different lengths and pushing my cheeks into a smile. Facing forward just in time as the doors slid open and we stepped out into the masses.

Taglist:

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x you #catching fire #angst #finnick x reader #finnick odair x annie cresta #the hunger games #thg x reader #finnick angst #this is going somewhere I promise #at the moment it's literally just angst

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