#so he says it's a lie because it's easier to believe that than to admit that those horrible things might be true

[astraystayyh]

The snow falls, we fall apart.

summary: when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

genre: producer student!hyunjin x reader. roommates!au. friends to lovers. acute descriptions of heartbreak and general sadness. slow burn. hurt/comfort. healing and hopeless romantic hyune. very inspired by long for you so lots of pining and yearning. (wc: 13k)

warnings: mentions of alcohol. it is implied that reader was in an a very toxic relationship but no details are shared.

a.n: happy birthday to my hyunjin, my muse, my light. thank you for being so full of love that it made me love love again in return. this is i think my most personal piece, and i hope it reminds those who need it that love should be soft and kind, that it shouldn’t hurt, that it should heal not break. i love you guys and i love you my xi, writing this collab with you has been a true honor <3 also!! please listen to long for you while reading :,)

winter falls masterlist.

You’ve only ever felt utter despair twice in your life.

First, when you were seven years old, playing hide and seek with your cousins at your grandma’s house. It was a warm summer afternoon, the air sweetened by pastries you devoured hours ago. You decided to hide in a wooden cabinet up in the attic, only to end up stuck there. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, the oxygen seeping away from the cracks underneath the door, leaving you deprived of air, of life.

Second, at twelve, when you've come to discover sorrow's new facet, clad in grief's heavy cloak. Your parents adopted a hamster for your birthday, but they did not know he had a terminal disease. You were distraught, to say the least, when you awoke to its still form, death claiming a frail heart unaware of its imminent fate.

And now, third, many many moons later, you are knocking on Hyunjin’s door a few minutes after midnight. It is cold out, tears tracing rivulets on your cheeks, your fingers tinted pink from roaming outside in the harsh winds, your heart much heavier than when you were a child. More grief-stricken, at your own hands, this time.

A disheveled Hyunjin opens the door, his blonde ash hair tousled and sticking upwards, a clear indication of the many times he had run his hands through it in fits of frustration. His gray hoodie zipped up hastily, revealing the silver cross necklace he was wearing, nestling perfectly against his honeyed skin.

You've always had an aversion to seeking comfort, saw it as revealing your deepest vulnerabilities to a world that isn't always kind. It was easier, much simpler to do so when you were a clueless child— when you sank in your cousin Lia's hold as she attempted to steady your breathing, when your mother cradled you in her lap after Pinky died.

It is much harder now, much more embarrassing because Hyunjin has never seen you this sad, never glimpsed your shadows that now swarm his doorstep, unannounced.

“What's wrong?” he quickly asks, eyes darting over your figure in a rapid search for visible wounds. He wouldn’t find any. All your injuries stem from within— blood doesn’t have to be spilled for your heart to weep.

You had rehearsed a lie as you walked up to his doorstep. You would say that your car broke down near his place and ask if you could stay over for the night. He would insist he could drive you to your place and you’d refuse, saying that it was too late and you did not wish to bother him. You’d sleep on the couch and slip away in the early hours of the morning.

Yet, it is the genuine worry etched in his eyes that dismantles the fortress you've hidden in, melts the lie in your throat, morphing it into a steel lump coiling in your throat. He looks concerned when all you’ve had directed towards you recently was anger. And you missed someone looking at you in care, not reproach.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You admit, your voice shattered, fragments of your vocal cords scattered out in the wind like a broken mosaic, the sound of it scraping against your ears.

Blow one hurt. It felt like your body turned against you as it deprived you of oxygen. The sobs that escaped you once you perceived the light pained you, perhaps more than being confined in the darkness.

Blow two was even worse, it was your first time experiencing grief. It was too hard of a concept for your innocent heart to grasp, too complicated for you to find solace in anything as adults do.

You promised yourself that you’d reserve blow three for monumental agonies— big pains and big sorrows only. That’s how you managed to keep all your tears at bay for most of your life. Would they be worth losing your third sob for? No, you've always found the answer to be.

And in all the twisted scenarios you’ve conjured up in your mind, deaths and illnesses and the haunting tale of failure, you did not imagine that it would happen on Hwang Hyunjin’s doorstep. That you’d burst into sobs at the compassionate look in his gaze, and the sad smile he sent your way. As if he knew, as everyone did around you. That you had handed a knife to a serial killer and it was only a matter of time before he stabbed you in the heart.

Two weeks ago.

“I’m trying to understand you but you aren’t helping me,” Seungmin is frustrated as he paces relentlessly before you from left to right like a swinging pendulum. You sit on the couch, beholding only his shoes, avoiding his gaze that would reflect the truth you dare not confront.

“He’s sucking the life out of you, can’t you see that?”

You can, out of everyone that surrounds you, you can see it the most. You feel as if you are carrying a skin that isn’t your own, weighed down by a relationship that has taken everything from you. But admitting it is admitting that you were wrong, in trusting him, in loving him. You couldn’t bear it.

“We are fine!” you shout back, the defiance in your voice surprises even you. This is a familiar script with Seungmin, a recurring conversation spurred by your puffy eyes and diminishing appetite. He tells you, begs you to leave, but where could you go? How could you leave a home where you've shed all your treasured belongings at the door— your skin, your bones, your very self.

What place would welcome you now that you're stripped bare of your soul?

“When was the last time he made you smile, huh? All he does is hurt you, and you...” he chuckles incredulously, running his hand through his hair. “You are letting him.”

Deny, deny, deny.

“This isn’t true. He loves me,” the words taste foreign in your mouth like rusty metal dragging across your lips. A small voice whispers that love shouldn't feel like this, but you quiet it down.

“Are you hearing yourself? Yn, I…” he kneels before you, his hands resting comfortingly on your knees. This is Seungmin, your best friend of five years. You know he has your best interests at heart, you are even more sure of it when his voice softens, shakes slightly when he utters your name. “Yn, please. I’m trying to help you. Please.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you push away his hands, standing up. “I don’t want your help, and I don’t need it.”

You quickly leave Seungmin’s dorm, your heart heavier than when you entered it, foolishly hoping that he'd ignore your distressed state after yet another fight with your boyfriend. But Seungmin doesn't understand, no one around you does— you’ve gambled your heart, and you cannot stop drawing the cards, even in the face of losing strikes.

❁ ❁ ❁

Hyunjin offers you a cup of tea with a gentle smile and you grab the steaming drink from his hands. The smell of chamomile wraps around your senses, and your brain fizzles out for a second before the soothing aroma. But it is a fleeting respite, the tempest of your thoughts crashes back onto you with an unsettling force, causing you to almost drop the drink as your hands shake. You place it down the table without taking a sip.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced,” you apologize, wincing at the intrusion, “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I always sleep late. Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, but you know it isn’t a genuine grin, because his eyes betray an unsubdued concern, refusing to morph into their usual moon crescents.

You’ve always thought that Hyunjin wears his emotions openly— when he laughed, he did so loudly, his boisterous giggles traveling around Seungmin’s dorm. When he hurt himself, everyone in the vicinity would know so from his loud yelps. And when something worried him, he would bite his lip, toying with the plush flesh to ease his nerves.

As he is doing now. Looking at you.

“We broke up,” you quickly say, and your words hang over you like a gloomy cloud. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you want me to fight him? I’ll bring changbin too,” he suggests a serious tone underlying his playful offer, and it manages to tear a reluctant giggle out of you.

“Changbin doesn’t know me well enough to fight for me,” you counteract and he shakes his head. “He’ll fight for me, I'm his princess.”

“Are you now?” The giggle escapes your mouth less forcefully, and the smile that graces Hyunjin’s face is a genuine one.

“I am. My proposal stands,” he extends his hand and you wrap your fingers around his palm. “Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind,” you smile but he frowns, flipping your hand around in his hold.

“You are freezing,” he whispers, using his other palm to rub warmth into yours.

“It’s fine,” you lie, slipping your hand out of his grasp, not feeling deserving of his kindness.

Wordlessly, Hyunjin stands, walking into what you assume is his bedroom. You only know of his place because you dropped off Seungmin here some time ago. You are too exhausted to even drink in the interior.

“Here,” he returns, handing you a navy hoodie of his and black joggers. “This will keep you warm at night.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, hesitating for a few seconds before speaking again. “Can you please not tell Seungmin, I... I can't face him right now.”

“Of course. I’ll be awake still if you do need something.”

Hyunjin’s clothing is warm, although peeling away your own garments felt like shedding layers of your skin, as if the fabric melted into your very flesh, just like memories from the day did. You have never felt this worthless before, discarded like a forgotten leaf on the roadside, one he stepped on for his own enjoyment, leaving you crushed in his wake, unable to fly away again.

Hyunjin’s rose perfume wraps around you, and you find relief in sleeping somewhere where your, his, scent was no longer around. You foolishly hope that if you close your eyes hard enough, you’ll manage to convince yourself that you’re someone else, tonight. Someone who isn’t tethered to the heartache, someone who can slip away from the clutches of a love that hurts more than hate could ever manage to do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Heartbreak isn’t beautiful, no matter how eloquently you try to dress it in the syllables of poetry, no words can soften the burn in your lungs, the searing ache that courses through your very core, reminding you that deep within, down to the fundamentals of your being and the most basic alchemy that ties your atoms together— you are unlovable. Whether you cut your hair or allow it to grow, change your heart, or leave it as it has always been, you will remain so.

You don’t remember much of the past week, blurry fragments here and there that float in your mind like a distorted water reflection. There is little room for memories when you are busy trying to remember how to breathe— one inhale in, one exhale out. The simple concept seems harder when there are unkind hands permanently lodged into your heart, squeezing it tight.

What you do remember is telling Seungmin through text the next day, because you couldn’t bear the way his eyes would soften if you spoke to him in person. No signs of surprise cast on his figure, because he knew that it was long coming, a train with one final inevitable destination— you in shambles, him okay.

You remember Seungmin cradling you in his arms when he came to see you, and you trying desperately to keep the tears at bay— too focused on pinching your arm to let Seungmin’s warmth radiate through your being, Hyunjin lingering uncomfortably by the entrance of his living room.

You remember begging Seungmin to grab your belongings from the apartment you shared with your ex because you were unable to face him, him, and everything that your old place spelled out for you. Stand in the ruins of what you once thought would be your permanent home.

And now, you watch as Seungmin and Hyunjin bring suitcases full of your stuff into the latter’s place. And you feel like an outsider in your own body, standing at the corner of the room gazing at utter destruction, unable to stop it, unable to mend it. Seungmin quickly reassures you that you could crash in his and Minho’s place until you find a new one to live in, already taking out his laptop to search for new apartments for you.

But you did not care for it, your eyes zeroed in on the satin shirt peeking out of your suitcase. The one he bought you on your first month anniversary. Back when love felt like a gentle feather running down your spine, and not a dull knife slicing away at your skin.

“This place's expensive too,” Seungmin sighs, rubbing his temple warily. Your logical best friend could not fix your heartbreak but he took it to heart to alleviate your other troubles. You would thank him for it, later, when your tongue finds enough will to move.

“What if you move in with me?” Hyunjin suddenly says and his words filtrate through the fog in your mind easily, as if he rehearsed them enough times so they’d roll out smoothly out of his mouth. “I mean, Felix is away for the next year since he went back to Australia. And I was looking for a new roommate anyway.” He shrugs and Seungmin turns to look at you, his eyes convey the question his mouth doesn’t articulate— is it okay with you?

“I don’t…” your voice is croaked, so you clear your throat. “I don’t want you to do things out of pity.”

“I’m not. If I was, I would've told you to move in with me for free. I still need you to pay rent,” he raises his eyebrows, a playful tease and you smile in relief, nodding, “Okay, I will. thank you.”

Heartbreak is ugly and all-encompassing, weaving through the roots of your heart and infecting each organ with its insidious touch. It renders you immobile, incapable of performing the simplest tasks, burdened by a weight unseen by the world. But you try your best, your very best to contain it.

You smile at the cashier as she hands back your money only to wonder if her soft, well-manicured hands would too crush a soul without remorse. You go to all your classes without fail but your mind is elsewhere, contemplating why the sun filtering through the windows no longer warms your skin. Can nerve endings perish when subjected to too much pain? What's left of life when you can no longer feel the caress of the sun?

You watch a movie at Seungmin's dorm but your mind is elsewhere, fleeting to this morning and how you refused to stay in the shower for more than three minutes because your thoughts might become haunting ghosts tempting you to follow them. You brush your hair and spray your perfume, only because you have to, because you live with Hyunjin and you wouldn’t want your sadness to taint him too. You wonder how long you’ll have to bear it. You wonder if it’ll ever leave you or if the veins in your heart have molded themselves after the pain and they wouldn’t know how to accept happiness anymore.

You greet Hyunjin as he walks past you, shaking your head when he asks you if you want to eat dinner with him, quickly retracting back into your room. You have ten unread messages and a pile of growing laundry you need to do, but all you can muster is to gaze at the empty walls, mirroring the void within you. Your mom told you to call her again and you don’t know how you’ll speak to her without bursting into a sob, how you’ll tell her that all it took was one person to break you. Or maybe it was two people, your hands and his tearing apart your flesh and bones. Maybe that’s the worst part about it. So you don’t call her.

And you only ever emerge from your room when you need to, just like now because your water bottle is finished and you need to refill it. You go to open the kitchen door when you hear Hyunjin’s muted shatter, Felix’s distinctive deep voice coming out of the phone speaker.

“Next you add the melted butter and stir it,” Felix instructs, the sounds of pots and utensils clinking in the background. You fidget slightly, mustering the strength to paint a fake smile on your lips.

“What next?”

“Sift the dry ingredients then add them to your wet mixture,” Felix explains, met with a few seconds of silence. You can almost visualize Hyunjin's perplexed expression, blinking rapidly in confusion.

“Explain it to me like I’m five years old,” he requests, prompting a small smile to etch itself onto your face.

“How are you surviving without me?”

“I’m not please come home,” Hyunjin sounds horrified as Felix’s rich chuckles fill the air. “Why do you suddenly want to make brownies anyway?” he then asks.

You go to open the door when Hyunjin’s response catches you off guard.

“They’re for Yn.”

Hyunjin's words resonate in the air, causing a hitch in your throat and Felix’s teasing whistles simultaneously, but Hyunjin is quick to stop him. “No, no, no, it’s not like that. They’re just a bit down and I remember them loving your brownies. So…”

It takes you a fleeting moment to dig the memory out of your mind, a year ago, right before your ex came to pick you up from Seungmin’s dorm. You had a bite of Felix’s brownies, a surprised gasp escaping your lips at its delicious taste, back when food had taste and happiness came easily to you. It was an insignificant memory, you did not imagine Hyunjin, out of everyone, would remember it.

But he did, and he’s now pacing before your closed door, contemplating how he’ll convince you to finally eat something with him. He throws a thumbs-up in the air for no one but himself, inhaling deeply before knocking on your door.

“Hey,” he greets with a hopeful smile, his gaze meeting your tired form. He hesitates for a second, clearing his throat. “Brownies?” You remain unmoving and he falters, “Hm? Please?”

“Sure,” you nod and a wave of relief floods through Hyunjin as you step out of your room. His joy is short-lived when he takes the brownies out of the oven, only to find them thoroughly burnt.

His mouth hangs agape, and he walks back shamefully to the oven, lowering its door only to scream inside of it.

“This will be more therapeutic,” you say, pointing nonchalantly to the fridge and he agrees, opening its doors and yelling once again in the much larger space.

Your melodic laughter fills the kitchen, Hyunjin’s embarrassment is suddenly a forgotten memory.

“I’m craving kimbap. Should we get it instead?” you propose, a touch shyly and he quickly agrees, afraid you’d change your mind and walk back to your room where he can no longer ensure you are okay.

Hyunjin absentmindedly dances along to the music blasting through the convenience store when a girl sidles up to his side, a saccharine grin on her lips as she looks up at him, “hi,” she greets and his tentative smile mirrors hers. “Hey.”

“Are you single?” she asks, her gaze briefly fleeting to the window. “I think you are really cute.”

“I’m…” he glances at you but you're suddenly engrossed in the ingredients of the tuna kimbap you are holding, pretending not to listen. “I am but I’m not interested, thank you.”

“Oh, come on,” she places a hand on his arm and he physically recoils. “Give me your insta and we could talk.”

“No,” he repeats, grabbing her hand to remove it when a loud voice startles him. “Baby, what’s taking you so— What are you doing?” Hyunjin watches in horror as the girl’s eyes grow wide, before she scrambles to the man’s side, feigning fear.

“He kept hitting on me when I said I had a boyfriend, baby.”

“What?” both you and Hyunjin gasped in comical unison. He would find it amusing if not for the escalating anger radiating from the man, who looks like he spends all his days in the gym. Hyunjin suddenly regrets not working out with Changbin.

The man strides towards Hyunjin. “Do you want to die?”

“No? there’s a misunderstanding,” he replies, swiftly standing before you and shielding you with his arm. “Your… baby,” he wiggles his finger in front of the man's face, “she was the one hitting on me!”

The man scoffs loudly, his face growing redder from the anger seething in him. “So you hit on my girlfriend and then accuse her of cheating?” His fist rises threateningly, prompting Hyunjin to step back, accidentally bumping into your chest.

“Wait, wait, wait! Let’s go talk outside, man to man,” Hyunjin pauses, his voice taking on a taunting edge, “unless you're too scared?” he smirks as he feels you pull at his shirt, whispering an incredulous- “What are you doing?” He shakes his head, grabbing your hand and leading you outside, throwing a sly wink at the man behind you now.

“Are you seriously going to fight him?” you ask, your gaze shifting towards the deranged couple who are about to step out of the grocery store. “No, of course not. I'm a lover, not a fighter.”

“You said you'd fight my ex,” you point out and his eyes soften surprisingly.

“You are an exception.” He looks back at the man, who's now walking towards you both. “But anyways, do you know how to run?” he asks and you frown, “who doesn’t know how to—” you pause as realization dawns on you. “No," you whisper furiously.

“Yes.”

“No,” you shake your head, horrified and he nods, eyes apologetic.

“Yes.” His fingers entwine with yours, he squeezes your hand once before he takes off running.

“Hwang fucking Hyunjin!” you shout and he looks back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m sorry Yn my face is too pretty to be beaten up.”

“He’s following us!” you yell, looking back horrified as the, even angrier, man runs after you.

“Well, run faster!”

“I’m wearing fucking slippers!” you curse and he giggles, tipping his head back, the wind slamming into you both, his hand never letting go of your own.

“Oh my god why is he still running!” you groan and Hyunjin picks up speed, moving you even closer to his sprinting figure

“I know, is it ever that serious?” he yells above his shoulder and you dig your nails into his palm.

“Shut up, this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so gorgeous.”

“So, you think I’m pretty too?” Hyunjin grins proudly and an incredulous laugh escapes your lips.

“Really? Is this what you’re getting out of this situation?”

“Silver linings, Yn, silver linings,” he shouts as you round a small alley, finally stopping to catch your breath. You both fall to the ground, heavy breaths escaping your chests.

“Holy shit, I’m not athletic at all,” he heaves, his eyes meeting yours. He expects to find anger lingering in your gaze but all he can grasp is your amused smile before you collapse into a fit of laughter, clapping loudly and clutching your stomach with your hand.

“Oh my god, I’m crying,” you laugh harder, wiping away at the tears falling from your eyes. Hyunjin’s weariness disappears in the blink of an eye— he did not realize how much he missed your smile until he glimpsed it again. And it is beautiful. Happiness looks beautiful on you.

“Idiot,” you hit his shoulder playfully, and his response is delayed for a few seconds, the warmth from your smile rendering him immobile.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, pulling you up. “Here, I’ll carry you home,” he squats slightly before you. “How impolite of me. How dare I make your majesty run.”

You shake your head, amused, before climbing atop his back, his warm palms holding your thighs securely. “Only because the slippers hurt my feet.”

You walk in silence for a while, your arms wound up around Hyunjin’s neck, the ghost of a smile still lingering on both your faces.

“They said it will snow tomorrow,” Hyunjin speaks suddenly and you stay silent for so long he starts to wonder if you even heard him.

“Mm? That’s nice,” your tone is melancholic, and he pauses at the peculiar sadness in it— as though you were trying to act nonchalant about something that has once meant the world to you.

“Don’t you like the snow?” he asks and your hold on his neck falters.

“I loved it. Loved ice skating and building snowmen.” Your voice is light and airy, like Hyunjin’s favorite mint chocolate ice cream. “But now it reminds me of bad times, bad memories.”

“I understand.”

Hyunjin knows what it feels like to relinquish parts of yourself you never wished to part from. For someone to grab your happiest places and to cast a gloomy filter atop them. Sometimes it is the loss of a season that hurts more than the departure of a person.

And Hyunjin loves winter.

He’ll do everything so that you’ll come to love it again too.

❁ ❁ ❁

Is it a nightmare if the person in it is one you once loved, looked forward to beholding with your gaze, hoping they’d never slip out of your reach? You don’t know, but you are growing tired of having the same dreams every night. Of waking up with an exhaustion that goes beyond your restless sleep but pleads from your soul to rest after almost a year of torment.

You sigh wearily, rubbing a hand through your face before walking to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. You find Hyunjin there, eating a cupcake while standing shirtless, scrolling through his phone. You blink at the sight.

“Hey,” you clear your throat and he startles, dropping the cupcake on the ground. He goes to pick it up only to bang his head on the table, a loud yelp escaping his lips. You barely contain your giggles as you walk to his side, rubbing your palm soothingly on his head. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.”

“At least pretend you are sorry,” he mumbles, pointing to your amused smile and you chuckle, taking his hand and helping him to his feet.

“What are you doing up now?” he asks as he grabs some napkins to clean up the pink frosting smeared across the floor.

You hesitate for a few seconds before whispering, “Just nightmares. And you?” you quickly add, not keen on pushing the subject any further.

“I'm working on a song,” he explains, as his gaze lingers on your sunken eyes, weighed down by dark circles from too many sleepless nights.

“And the cupcake?”

“Some people need caffeine to function. I need flour.”

“I literally see you drink three americanos per day.”

“Okay well maybe I need both,” he admits sheepishly and you grin, drumming your fingers along the countertop.

“Can I sit with you while you work?” you ask quickly, before the words linger enough in your mouth that you no longer wish to spit them out.

The smile that Hyunjin sends you is kind, pushing the shadows of your nightmares just slightly out of reach.

“Of course, yeah you can. Don’t even need to ask.”

Hyunjin walks first into his bedroom, quickly slipping on a hoodie while you take in the interior. It is a quite simple room— a large bed with gray covers, and a desk filled with what you assume to be his producing equipment sits adjacent. But what catches your attention is the dried rose hung delicately on the wall, and the array of paintings surrounding it. You edge closer to it, drawn to the well-crafted paintings— a sun-drenched beach, a couple lost in an embrace so intimate their forms can no longer be separated, and an elderly pair riding a motorcycle, their love radiating vibrantly as if enclosed in eternal youth.

“You paint?” you ask, turning around to find Hyunjin watching you. He steps closer, enveloping you once more in the fragrance of his rose perfume.

“In my free time.”

“You are amazing, Hyunjin,” you compliment sincerely, your gaze fixed on that imagery of the old couple, one that most likely grew together. It tugs at your heartstrings, stirs a painful longing within you, a memory of a time when you too believed you’d find such boundless love.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, before brushing his fingertips gently against your forearm, for a fleeting second. “Are you okay?” he asks, a tenderness you’ve been aching for latched into his question. Your eyes refuse to peel away from the paintings and the love spilling from each paint brush stroke, a love that refuses to rest on your being as if you were harboring an armor that repels it.

“No,” you reply sincerely, turning to face him. “It’s really hard,” you say with a smile, hoping that the mechanical display of happiness would keep your tears at bay, tricking your brain into believing you're not as sad as you feel.

It fails to do so, and the tears well in your eyes like a gathering storm. Frustration twists your features as you shut your eyes, tilting your head upward in a desperate attempt to contain the flood. It pauses as Hyunjin cradles the back of your head, drawing you close to the warmth of his neck. His palm glides soothingly along your spine, before patting your back ever so gently.

Your back stiffens, hands curling into tight fists, breath catching in your throat. You've grown accustomed to pushing away comfort, putting up tall barriers to shield yourself. But tonight, Hyunjin seems to break through your defenses.

Tonight, you soften, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, head nestling deeper against his tender skin.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers and another sob wracks through you, but he only holds you tighter. “It’ll get better soon.”

“I loved him,” you hiccup, your voice breaks, “a lot.”

“I know, that’s why it hurts.” His voice is gentle, and yet his hold on you feels secure as if you could stumble and fall, and he would be there to catch you

“I want it to stop hurting.”

“It will, with time.”

Your next words are tinged with a childlike vulnerability, reminiscent of blow one, then two. But you do not care for it, in that instant, you crave the reassurance, you need someone to plant a seed of hope in your soul because your hands are too frail to dig for it.

“Do you promise me?”

His response doesn’t come hastily, carelessly thrown into the air like idle chatters. He takes his time, considering it with the gravity of an oath.

“I promise you.” He finally says, each syllable infused with sincerity. A brief pause hangs in the air before he adds. “And if it doesn’t then you can hit me.”

“On your pretty face?” you ask, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“On my pretty face,” he confirms with a chuckle.

“What an honor,” you roll your eyes playfully as you lean back and he grins, tenderly wiping away your tears with the back of his fingers.

“I can't believe it took three minutes for you to cry in my room. This isn’t good for my reputation.”

“Good thing this will never leave this bedroom, right?” you point a finger at him threateningly, and he pretends to zip his lips, tossing away the imaginary key. “You got it.”

“So what are you working on?” you ask as you settle on the edge of his bed, knees drawn up to your chest.

“It’s a pretty sad song, wanna hear?” he offers, sitting across from you on his chair.

“Yeah, I'd love to,” you smile, and Hyunjin deftly adjusts a few buttons, before his melancholic whistles weave through the air, coupled with the somber melody of a piano. Your breath catches in your throat, the music reaching into the very depths of your soul. It's as if the notes are calling out for a loved one, for a time that has long passed, for a past that will never come back no matter how much we long for it.

The instrumental continues, each piano note and each violin string echo like a bittersweet lament, springing tears to your eyes. But the melody remains beautiful, akin to the beauty always found in the sadness— in the tears that cascade down your cheeks like glistening crystals, in the tremble of your hands akin to branches swaying in the wind, in the rise and fall of your chest with each breath, mirroring the ebb and flow of the waves.

Hyunjin watches you intently as the music envelops you both, his gaze softening with each passing moment. You bring a hand to your chest, almost unconsciously, too engrossed in the melody to even blink. He feels a blush sprout on his cheeks as your teary eyes hold his with the last fading guitar strings.

“You keep on making me cry,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion, and he grins, tilting his head shyly against his shoulder.

“You like it?” he asks, a tad eager and you nod, not bothering to wipe the lone tears that are falling down your cheeks.

“I think this is what my loneliness sounds like,” you confess softly.

“As do mine.”

A silent beat runs between you both, it isn’t uncomfortable, but safe. Because you understand him, just as he understands you.

“Sometimes I long for things that have passed," he admits, “although I know I can't get them anymore.”

“The most terrible thing you can long for is yourself.”

“Because no one’s to blame for that loss but you?” he muses and you nod, a sad smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, exactly.”

You bite your lip, casting a glance back at the paintings adorning the wall. “I don't love him anymore,” you begin quietly. “I stopped a long time ago because there was no room for love anymore to grow amid weeds and thorns.”

He remains silent, sensing that this is a weight you need to unburden yourself from.

“But in the midst of it I think I stopped loving myself too,” you whisper, a confession too terrible to be uttered out loud. “That's what I long for. The things I used to love that I'm indifferent to now.”

“Like you’re a stranger before everything once familiar to you.”

“Yeah, you express it prettily,” you remark with a small smile.

“It's my job,” he grins lightly.

“I think when your heart is pure,” he begins after a while, pausing to carefully choose the words that will soothe your burn, help sleep come more easily to you. “You give love to others more readily than you do to yourself. And it takes time, patience, to redirect that love back to your own heart once again. But it's not a mistake to love, you shouldn’t hate yourself for it. Nor should you blame your past self for loving the wrong person because they did not know what you now do.”

“Think of it as a caterpillar in their cocoon,” he continues gently, “when they finally emerge from their chrysalis, they might long for who they were, where they once were because it is the only place they've ever known. But they do not realize that they've transformed into a beautiful butterfly, that they can now fly, and witness much more than their chrysalis. So maybe, your new self will love the same things as before, or maybe you’ll find new, better things to love that you would have not known before. But in either way, your heart is beautiful. That is what matters, no?”

A small pout draws on your lips, your eyebrows scrunched as you gaze at him.

“You have a very tender soul, Hyunjin.”

Your words linger in Hyunjin's mind long after the sunrise, as you lay peacefully asleep on his bed. The melody of the instrumental he produced continues to play faintly in the background, serving as a gentle lullaby that eases you into slumber, entwined in his sheets, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself, one hand cradling your shoulders and the other resting gently on your stomach. The image sears into his eyes as he sketches the outlines of a figure holding itself absentmindedly, long into the night.

Hyunjin has had his fair share of compliments, mostly pertaining to his face, and others to his craft. but it is you who seems to have sensed that a part of his soul resided in his art, that he left pieces of his heart hidden in the notes he composes and the lyrics he writes, hoping they’ll find soft hands that will take care of them, just like your own.

Five days later.

hyunjin [11:34 p.m.]: are you home?

yn [11:34 p.m.]: yeahh, do you need anything?

hyunjin [11:35 p.m.]: come downstairs, im waiting for youu

if you say no i’ll freeze to death..

hurry i can’t feel my fingers anymore (please please) ㅠㅠㅠ

“This better be a life and death situation Hwang Hyunjin,” you say threateningly as soon as you appear before Hyunjin, causing him to straighten up from the wall he was leaning against.

“It is a very dangerous life-altering situation that requires your immediate assistance, indeed,” he responds solemnly, ushering you gently to his car and opening the door for you.

“Which is?” you ask as soon as he settles inside the car and he simply grins at you, his left dimple coming forth like the very sun on a gloomy day.

“You’ll see.”

Hyunjin’s eyes fleet to your figure every now and then, but you do not seem to notice, your gaze lost into the blurring lights ahead. He can tell you're still not entirely yourself, so he was prepared to forcibly drag you along with him. He’s almost surprised you accepted to come down so easily.

“Is that… Seungmin?” you speak suddenly, pointing to a man waving in the distance, as Hyunjin parks his car near an empty field.

“And Changbin? And Minho?” you continue, squinting your eyes, “and a bonfire?” you giggle with a hint of excitement.

“You love s’mores during the winter, right?”

Hyunjin smiles, your soul softens.

“I do,” you say quietly, “I really do.”

You quickly exit the car, running into Seungmin's arms with a grin of disbelief plastered on your face. “This is insane,” you almost shout, squeezing him tight in a hug.

“It was so hard to find the perfect middle of nowhere for this,” Minho grumbles as you move to greet him, but the warmth of his embrace assures you he's only teasing.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile as you hug Changbin, who affectionately ruffles your hair. “It was Hyunjin’s idea,” he reveals, and you glance back at Hyunjin, who stands with his hands buried deep within his sweatpants behind you. You mouth a silent “thank you” to him, but he shakes his head modestly as if it is nothing to bring happiness to a bruised heart.

The night unfolds in endless laughter, with Minho and Hyunjin taking turns roasting marshmallows over the crackling bonfire, and Seungmin serving you hot coffee to keep your hands warm. Your stomach aches from the uncontrollable fits of giggles that overtook your being as Minho recounts the time he danced so vigorously on stage for his dance club that he ripped his pants, feeling a breeze where there shouldn't be one; and Changbin tells you the story of the time his voice cracked in the middle of a rap battle, and how none of the boys stopped teasing him about it for months to come.

And as the four of them take turns making you laugh, a quiet, tender realization dawns on you—you are loved. It is something he tried to convince you was impossible, that no one around truly cared for you but him. And even then, you weren’t deserving of his love whole, only scrapes of it, as if you were a beggar tugging at the outskirts of his heart.

But Hyunjin reminded you otherwise. And if your friends found something worthy of love within you then perhaps so will you again, one day.

“Did you have fun?” Hyunjin asks as he opens the door to his, your, apartment hours later. What he doesn't expect is for you to respond by wrapping your arms around his slender torso, squeezing tight in gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he nods, though you cannot see him, returning the embrace by wrapping his arms around your shoulder blades.

Hyunjin doesn't let go first, sensing that perhaps you need this hug more than he does. He smiles as your eyes meet his again, but his grin falters when he notices your gaze flickering towards your bedroom, a hint of unease clouding your expression. It's as if behind that door lie monsters only you can grasp, wearing the faces of people you once knew, once loved.

“Wanna stay with me while I work on the song?”

“Last time I ended up sleeping on your bed,” you say a bit shamefully, recalling the morning you woke up to find yourself covered with a thick blanket that wasn’t there before, alone in Hyunjin's room.

“It's okay,” he shrugs, “I missed sleeping on the couch.”

You stare pointedly at him and he chuckles, “Fine, I did not miss it. But you needed the sleep, so it’s okay with me.”

“Fine,” you concede, though you did not need much convincing for it. “But only if you promise you’ll wake me up if I end up falling asleep again.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, thinking to himself for a few seconds before shaking his head stubbornly, a small pout drawn on his face, his eyes semi-closed. “No.”

“Hyunjin!”

“Nu-uh,” he insists, shaking his head once more as he walks back towards his room. “I'm waiting for you!”

“I'm not coming!”

But you do eventually join him, after changing your clothes and washing your face. You find Hyunjin clad in beige and white checkered pajamas, his glasses pushing back his silky hair as he hunches over his journal, scribbling away before erasing what he wrote.

“Struggling with lyrics?” you ask, leaning against the wall and he startles. “Do you float on the ground? Why can I never hear you come in?”

“Or maybe you just love being dramatic,” you sing-song, laying atop his bed, much more at ease than the previous night.

Hyunjin sticks his tongue out childishly in response, and you playfully mimic the gesture before both of you dissolve into happy giggles.

“Kind of,” he explains once you both settle down, “I have this specific feeling in mind that I need to convey.”

“You'll do well,” you reassure softly, “your lyrics are always so beautiful. Remember Cover me?” you smile and he scratches the back of his ear, a shy grin spreading across his face.

“You still listen to it?” he asks and you nod eagerly, attempting to belt into Seungmin’s ending high note. You fail horribly and Hyunjin throws a crumpled piece of paper on your face to get you to stop singing.

“My poor ears,” he laughs loudly, and you retaliate by throwing back a pillow on his head.

“You just don’t get my artistic abilities.”

“I’d get them more if you stayed silent.”

You gasp, faking offense as you stand up to tickle Hyunjin on his chair, he starts squirming immediately, his loud giggles spilling all over the room, coating it in vibrant hues of happiness, and you’re suddenly captivated by the sight of him— his head thrown back, a golden lock framing his laughter-filled eyes, his top lowering slightly to reveal glimpses of his collarbones and the delicate veins that trace enticing paths on his neck.

You pause, your hand hovering over the side of his stomach, as a long-forgotten warmth spreads through your heart, like the first rays of dawn greeting the earth after a long winter night. It doesn’t diffuse quickly through your being, but rather drapes like sticky honey on your veins, making you well aware of your growing blush, of how beautiful Hyunjin is in his joy.

“Never singing to you again,” you clear your throat, laying atop his bed once again, and quickly reaching for your phone, anything to avoid his eyes which rival the crescent moon outside his window.

Hours pass before a warm hand gently settles on your shoulder, rousing you from your slumber. Blinking away the fog of sleep, you find Hyunjin leaning over you, his grin wide and infectious. “Wake up,” he whispers, but you only groan, burying your face deeper into his pillow.

He doesn’t yield, taking hold of your wrist and guiding your drowsy figure upright, before wrapping the blanket snugly around your shoulders. Without a word, he leads you out onto his balcony, carefully putting his neon green beanie on your head to shield you from the cold.

“It’s snowing!” he smiles, and his excited tone manages to dissipate the fog in your mind. You blink repeatedly and soon enough, you too behold the fallen snowflakes, each one resembling a tiny speck of light bidding farewell to the sky to greet the earth.

“You missed the first snow so I didn’t want you to miss this one too,” he explains, and his thoughtfulness blankets you with a warmth that seeps into every crevice in your body, drips down your fingertips and makes the cold of 4 a.m. seem less harsh, less biting to the touch.

You don’t know how to say thank you, because those two words don’t encapsulate the depths of gratitude that you feel for Hyunjin. Because he is speaking to the person within you who still loves snow, the part buried underneath layers of dust from a ground heartbreak. But you still manage to hear him, and you squeeze his hand tightly, and he doesn’t let go until you finally do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Remembering has become easier for you these past two months— both the good and the bad. And each day, the scale tips towards one side or the other. Sometimes you recall the suffocation you felt with him, the feeling that no matter what you did you could never please him, that your hands were crafted to break rather than mend. And on those days your wound grows, it throbs and bleeds different emotions.

Sometimes it's anger— at him for treating your heart so carelessly as if you were a being devoid of feeling. And then at you— for staying, for giving him excuses and desperately searching for goodness within him, for the one redeeming quality that would convince you he was worth the pain.

And other days bring an excruciating sadness along, a weight that presses down upon you until you're paralyzed. Because you feel bad for yourself and for everything you went through. Because you’re unsure how to rise when unseen hands push you deeper into the abyss.

And on these days, Seungmin becomes your anchor. He buys your favorite food, skips classes with you, and takes you to your favorite gardens. He talks and he talks and you try your best to laugh because you do not wish to worry him more. It is enough to be your own burden, you do not wish to burden him too.

But when he drops you home, your facade slips away, the smile fading from your face as if it were never truly yours to wear. You are too tired to pretend so you don’t, and Hyunjin doesn’t let you, either. He brews you tea and orders takeout because he knows you lack the energy for cooking. He goes with you on walks and drapes you in pieces of his clothing— scarves and beanies and gloves because he knows you couldn’t care less about a cold when there is a frost coating your bones. He lets you sit in his room while he works on his songs, and while he paints. Sometimes you talk and often you don't need to. But he’s there. He's there with you.

But you also remember the good. You remember your movie night with the boys, Hyunjin building an entire fort for you, adorned with twinkling lights and the softest blankets. How you watched movies until 5 a.m. your bodies so closely huddled together that there was no room left for sadness.

You recall Hyunjin begging you to build a snowman with him at the crack of dawn, the two of you collapsing in fits of laughter as you threw snowballs at one another, your footsteps marking the fresh fallen snow.

You remember being so exhausted after one of your showers that you simply laid atop the couch, gaze fixed on the void, too drained to even untangle the knots in your hair. Yet, it is not the tiredness that you exactly recall, nor the salty tears you shed underneath the scorching water jet. But it is Hyunjin's tender hands as he brushed through your hair, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck, his knuckles ghosting over the slate of your shoulder. You remember whispering that it was a particularly hard day and Hyunjin understanding. You remember him watching many YouTube tutorials to prepare your favorite seaweed soup, only for it to end up being too salty. But you still ate it all, because he made it for you, to lift your wounded spirits. And that alone was enough for it to taste good.

You remember your heart hardening then softening again, breaking then stitching itself back together, closing off then blooming like flowers on the first day of spring. You remember smiling only to cry then smile again. And you remember liking snow, a bit more than you thought you would. Because Hyunjin was there, holding your trembling hand, steadying it enough for you to rewrite your memories with winter.

So, you want to say thank you.

You do not wish to spell it out, because there are too many things to thank Hyunjin for and too few words to do so. Instead, you drag him to the farmer’s market near your home, and you tell him to help you pick flowers.

“I could be in bed watching my favorite show and yet here I am bestowing you with my enchanting presence,” he sighs, not too modestly, as you both eye the array of colorful blooms.

“Okay, Shakespeare, are you done?” you roll your eyes, attempting your best to hide your grin.

“Done annoying you? Never. These are very pretty,” he adds, pointing to the white roses in full bloom, their delicate petals emitting a sweet fragrance into the air.

“I agree, what else should we add?” you ponder, picking out four roses.

“Mm, Hibiscus? The red in the center is so vibrant,” he suggests, taking out his phone to capture the flower.

“Cute. Baby breath’s would look good too,” you say as you gather the flowers, heading to the cashier with Hyunjin trailing behind, still admiring the delicate blooms.

“Can I write a note?” you ask the middle-aged man as he wraps the bouquet in a powder blue paper.

“Sure,” he replies with a smile, and you return the gesture, quickly jotting down your words.

“Are you done?” Hyunjin grins when you return to his side and you nod, exiting the flower shop.

“What do you think?” you ask, angling the bouquet towards him.

“It's beautiful.”

“It’s yours,” you smile, growing shier at the intensity of his gaze as it lands on you, then the flowers, then on you again. “Take it,” you hand it to him, your cheeks flushing like the hibiscus’s crimson core.

“Actually?” he says softly, his fingers trembling slightly as he accepts the flowers and you nod in response. You bite your lip as you watch him take out the note, his eyes softening once he reads the words inscribed in it— thank you for making my winter less cold.

“Should we go?” you say a tad too cheerfully, turning away, but Hyunjin grabs your wrist, spinning you around once more. His fingers trail up your arm, coming to rest gently on your cheek as he leans down to plant a tender kiss there.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. You think that if his soft lips grace your skin a few times more, your nerve endings might forget the harshness they were subjected to. If his gentle hands remain on your cheeks, then maybe, your heart would heal quicker, better. Maybe your past self that you long for would emerge again, maybe Hyunjin would be able to unearth it.

Your hopeful thoughts disappear as quickly as they arrive, overshadowed by a sense of helplessness that crashes over you, all of the sudden. You sense him before you hear him, the familiar anxiety that is only synonymous with your ex’s presence.

“Yn?” the sound of your name feels harsher in his mouth, the syllables spat out rather than spoken tenderly, as they are when Hyunjin pronounces it. Your veins run cold as his voice pierces the air, your heart skipping three beats at once before plummeting to your knees. You wrap your hand around Hyunjin’s forearm instinctively, and he looks down at you, his expression morphing into one of concern.

You’re unsure of what he sees in you— whether it is your pale face, the quiver of your lower lip, or the fear that has coated all your features— but his eyes harden, his brows furrowing as he gazes at the man behind you.

You refuse to turn around, bracing yourself for his next words. “Yn,” he repeats his tone laced with anger, his fingertips grazing your arm as if intending to force you to face him. But before he can touch you, Hyunjin intervenes, swiftly stepping in between you and your ex, shielding you with his own body protectively.

“Leave,” Hyunjin's voice is cold, dripping with a venomous edge you've never heard from him before, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury.

“Is this your new shiny toy, Yn?” your ex taunts and his voice cuts through your being against your will, triggering a flood of memories you've tried so desperately to suppress. Memories of his cruelty, his manipulation, and the pain he inflicted upon you—using your love as a weapon to bolster his own ego.

“What's in it for you?” you find your voice again, though it trembles when you speak. He is the very embodiment of your pain and everything you loathe about yourself. You wish for the ground to swallow you whole, for a bolt of lightning to strike the earth, anything to spare you from facing him.

“It's only been three months, I didn't know you were a whore.”

Hyunjin's fist connects with his cheek before you can register his words. It all unfolds so rapidly that you barely have time to comprehend it. Your ex staggers back, blood trickling from the cut on his lip, while Hyunjin stands before you, his chest heaving with restrained anger, his right hand clenched into a fist, the bouquet still held tightly in the other.

“Fine, I deserved it,” your ex chuckles, his voice laced with mockery as he wipes the blood from his lip. His gaze meets yours briefly behind Hyunjin's back.

“You might not be a whore but you are unlovable, keep that in mind.” He spits out before walking away, crude words that tear at every scab covering your wounds, reopening them with a brutal force. Hyunjin moves to follow him, but you grab his shirt, pulling him back.

“He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Your words seem to snap Hyunjin out of his haze as he turns to look at you, worry cast across his figure. He moves to cradle your cheeks but you step back, refusing to meet his eyes. He swallows thickly, clutching the bouquet in his hands. “Are you okay?”

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping as you shake your head slightly. “Let's just go home,” you whisper, eyes fleeting to his for a split second. All the lights in your gaze are muted.

You’re crumbling before him once again and he cannot stop it, no matter how much he yearns to.

It's long past midnight when you find yourself seated on the floor of your living room, a bottle of red wine placed between you and Hyunjin. You exchange it wordlessly, taking turns sipping from it, the alcohol warming your insides but doing little to ease the ache in your heart. You don’t exactly recall when Hyunjin sat next to you, but you don’t mind. You were too lost in your own thoughts to even register his presence.

“Yn,” he calls out softly and you hum absentmindedly, memories of when your ex spoke your name haunting you, each time he yelled your name, uttered it in disdain as if it was the starting point of everything wrong with you.

“Talk to me, please?” he pleads, angling his body towards your own. But you refuse to meet his eyes and Hyunjin’s heart twists in his chest. He is afraid of all the ugly thoughts that must roam your mind. He wishes he could enter it, open the windows wide, and usher the light in.

“I'm sorry you were dragged into this,” you say, your gaze fixated on the bouquet placed atop the table. The crimson painted on the hibiscus’ petals reminds you of the blood that spilled from your ex’s mouth, and your gaze fleets to Hyunjin's hand, slightly bruised from the punch.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, “there is nothing to be sorry for.”

It’s as though you don’t hear him, your fingers trailing gently across his scraped knuckles, tears pooling in your eyes the more you stare at his hand.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice thick with emotion, and Hyunjin’s quick to shake his head. “No, don’t worry about it. He deserved it.”

“You didn’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Neither did you.”

Your disbelieving scoff that follows scares him. What if you’re slipping away into a dark place yet again, one void and barricaded, in which the only sound that echoes is your ex’s hurtful words? What if he can’t reach you again?

“If the only person I’ve ever loved says I’m unlovable then maybe I am.”

You’re drunk, you wouldn’t have said such an ugly thing otherwise, wouldn’t have allowed this sentiment to materialize into the air, to take a tangible form apart from your abstract thoughts.

“No,” Hyunjin says in a panic as though he’s trying to quickly pull the brakes on your free-railing thoughts. He cups your face between his palms, your tears falling freely atop his hands but he does not move away.

“No,” he repeats, more calmly this time. “How he treated you is a reflection of who he is. And how you see him is a reflection of who you are. And you wanted him to be loving because you’re full of love. You wanted him to be good because you are a good person. And he can’t stomach that, can’t stomach that you are happy without him so he’s trying to ruin you again.”

“Hyunjin…” you shake your head but he only inches closer to you, his thumbs gently caressing your cheekbones. “No, listen to me. Seungmin loves you so much he couldn’t eat properly for the first few days you stayed here, texted me all the time asking me how you were and if you were feeling better. He isn't good with words so instead he tries to make you laugh. He wishes he could give up parts of his happiness for you.”

A sob swells within you but Hyunjin presses on. “And Minho, he tried to memorize all your favorite recipes so he could cook them for you. It isn’t a coincidence that every time we go over to their dorm it is your favorite food that we eat. He takes more pictures of his cats these days so he could send them to you because he knows it cheers you up.”

“You told me Changbin doesn’t know you well enough to fight for you but when we saw your ex across the campus one day he wanted to get up and beat him. He always asks me if you are well and if there is something he can do for you, anything.”

He inhales deeply, tears welling up in his eyes as well. “And me…” a tender smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, “you make this house a home. I feel like my true self when you are around and loneliness doesn’t come to me as often as it did. Because you are here. You are like a beam of sunlight that lightens up every life you touch, mine first,” he’s baring his soul to you, vulnerable yet resolute. “So tell me, Yn, what’s not to love in you when you yourself are so full of love?”

“Hyune,” you speak the nickname for the first time, and Hyunjin’s heart thrashes achingly around his ribcage. “If you keep talking like this I might end up loving you,” you smile sadly at him as if it is a terrible thing to be loved by you.

“But I don’t want to love you, because I won’t know how to, not anymore. So I'll end up leaving. And I'll long for you, and I don't think I can stomach longing for you from afar.”

“So please,” you place one hand atop his own, wipe away the lone tear rolling down his cheek. “Don’t make me love you, hm? You deserve more than to be loved by someone like me.”

You leave Hyunjin in the living room, alone before the white flowers you gifted him. He doesn’t want to put them away in a vase, for as soon as he grabbed them from your hold, everything around you both crumbled. So he leaves them there for the night, the creamy white petals aglow underneath the moonlight. He spends the night painting the bouquet from memory, but the petals end up too tinged with red, perhaps mirroring the blood his heart refuses to stop spilling still.

He did not realize it before, maybe he blinded himself so he wouldn’t see what was before him all along. But it is all the clearer to him now— that in his attempts to make you love winter again, Hyunjin only ended up loving you.

A week later.

hyune [1:25 a.m.]: i miss you

You and Hyunjin spent the last seven days avoiding one another, well you more than him. He just understood your silent plea when you took a step back the one time he tried to talk to you in the kitchen, swallowing thickly before inching away, allowing you to move past him.

You did not know how to face him after what he said, partly because you were embarrassed by your own response, mostly because even in your drunken daze, his words etched themselves permanently into your memory.

It is his reassuring words that echoed in your brain for the past week, not those of your ex.

hyune [1: 26 a.m.]: and i miss sleeping on the couch

You giggle, shaking your head before replying.

yn [1:26 a.m.]: no you don’t

hyune [1:26 a.m.]: no i don’t ㅠㅠ

but i finished the song

wanna hear?

Walking to Hyunjin’s room feels as familiar as going into your own. And when your gaze finally meets his you can’t help but break into a relieved smile. It was foolish of you to punish yourself, enough people have done that for you already.

“Hey,” he greets tentatively, and you respond with an awkward wave, a moment pregnant with anticipation passes before both of you dissolve into laughter.

“What is this? Are we in middle school,” he teases and you giggle, settling comfortably on his bed once more.

“I know. We are so lame.”

“You are,” he corrects with a grin and you gasp, pretending to leave but he quickly catches your hand, stopping you. “No, please stay. I meant it when I said that I missed you,” he repeats quietly, as if afraid that his confession would make you run away once again.

Your heart aches, the knots in your stomach tightening and unraveling all at once. “I missed you too,” you admit softly, and he smiles, his thumb tracing a gentle path above your pulse before releasing your hand.

“So it's done then?” you ask and he nods, running a hand through his hair with a hint of anxiety. “How do you feel about it?”

“Good. I hope you’ll like it, mostly.”

“I'm sure I will,” you reassure him with a soft smile, and he nods once more, pressing a few buttons before his melodious whistles fill the air once again.

Nothing could have braced you for the sound of Hyunjin's voice that followed, its timbre soft as silk yet imbued with profound sorrow. It's as though he recorded the song on one of his loneliest nights, his honeyed vocals dipped in an excruciating nostalgia that seeps into every corner of the room, every corner of your heart.

In the faded photo, I come across a smile spread across a youthful face, overlapped with the seasons.

Your gaze flickers to Hyunjin as a shadow of recollection dawns on you. You remember telling him that you couldn’t stomach looking at pics of your past, ones in which you smiled so freely because you were blissfully unaware of what was to come.

The night’s so cold that it’s almost unreal.

Because you weren’t aware of the winter that will follow and the biting cold that it would bear, for everything that will go astray in your relationship, for your ex's facade to crack like a glacier succumbing to the pressure of lies and pretense.

I wake up in another silence, and I close my eyes.

You remember Hyunjin confessing that silence haunted him more than words ever could, and you had agreed, sharing how sometimes you shut your eyes, pretending that the reality you woke up to wasn't the one you were living.

The white flower we planted together has bloomed. I do not dare pick it. Now it withers away.

You gaze at the white flowers you brought him, now wilted in the vase placed on his desk, yet Hyunjin refuses to throw them still. You see the card you wrote for him hung on the wall, right next to the dried red rose. He kept it. Though it withered, he kept it all.

So I long for you. And I long for you. And I'll long for you.

You remember the longing you both spoke of, how he understood a feeling you felt so incredibly alone in. How he tried to reassure you when he too was caught in the webs of the past. How you longed for him in the past week. How you wished he longed for you just the same.

So I can keep loving you. So I could be loving you. And morе.

The violin swells and so does the emotion in your chest. You remember him asking you ‘What’s not to love in you’ and how you've spun those words in your thoughts ever since. You remember thinking that if he gave you a few more weeks, just a bit more time, you might have found it in you to believe them.

You see Hyunjin’s glimmering eyes holding yours, you see his heart atop a platter handed to you, and you see the resignation in his being. Don’t make me love you, you told him. You didn’t dare to tell him not to love you in return, deemed it too foolish of thought to entertain.

For he was Hwang Hyunjin, the quiet producer who paints in his free time and who wears his heart on his sleeve. Who remains hopeful, loving, and tender, despite the thorns pricking at his side. Who is beautiful, so much so that he allowed you to see beauty in the universe once again, through his eyes.

How could he love you?

How could you not love him?

“The song,” you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips as you stand, trembling, on your feet. Hyunjin rises too, meeting you in the center of his room.

“It is about you. For you,” he says simply as if his words don’t cause your world to burst at the seams only to mend itself once again, too eager to fix itself and exist in the same timeline as Hyunjin.

“I don't… I don’t know what to say,” you say earnestly, feeling your heart pound in your chest, its beats resounding loudly in your ears.

It is wrong of you to assume he wishes you to say something. He is Hyunjin, the one who finds words in your silences too, after all.

“I don’t need you to say anything,” he shakes his head, taking another step closer to you. “I don't want an answer, I don't wish to pressure you. I just wanted to tell you that my love is here, it is yours to take or to leave, to cherish or to discard. But it is yours, because this is who I am. I am someone who loves you.”

“So do not tell me to forget you because I don't know how to. And don’t tell me that you’ll leave because I will love you still, because you’d still be you, near or far, you are you. And you are someone I long for.” He pauses, his voice softening. “And I long for you, Yn, more than anything I've ever longed for. And I've spent all my life longing.”

His lips meet your forehead tenderly, and you feel your entire being grow limp at the chaste kiss, as if your limbs wish to liquefy and form a puddle on the floor. His touch is soft, and you miss it the moment he parts from you.

“There must be something in this room that keeps on making you cry,” he smiles and you bring your hands to your damp cheeks, surprised to find there tears you didn’t realize had fallen.

“It’s you,” you pinch his arm playfully and he squirms away from your hold, stabbing his toe on the desk in the process. A loud fuck echoes around the room, and your laughter dissipates the tension clinging into the air.

“Can you play it again?” you request softly and Hyunjin’s theatrics fade as a shy smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Is it good?”

“It's everything to me.”

“It's called ‘long for you’, by the way.”

“Long for you,” you repeat quietly. There has never been a prettier combination of words.

The title all but makes sense as you lay on the bed, your gaze fixed on the paintings hung on the wall, Hyunjin sketching quietly on his desk, the song resonating softly in the background. You've longed for many things in your life—the person you once were and the tender love you once craved—but amidst it all, nothing has weighed heavier on your heart than the longing for the man sitting just two meters away, almost in your loving grasp. Almost.

❁ ❁ ❁

It is an excruciating five days that Hyunjin spends apart from you, the both of you too caught up in your assignments to find a moment to properly speak. But you do not shy away from him when he greets you, and your grin is kind as it drapes across his being, and Hyunjin swears he has never seen a prettier sight than you smiling.

On the sixth night, Hyunjin completes the cover for the song— a figure wrapped around itself protectively, mirroring the way you hug yourself in your sleep. He hangs it on the wall, right next to your thank you card and the white bouquet he drew once again, wishing to properly immortalize its beautiful flowers, to purify that memory from the tumult that followed it.

On the sixth night, the house is quiet, the full moon high up in the sky, snowflakes falling softly to the ground. Hyunjin wonders if you too mimicked the snow’s descent— both of you falling apart with it.

But then, there’s a knock on his door.

His heart catches in his throat, his body freezing as if it forgot how to move. You are here.

“Come in,” he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. You push the door open, and Hyunjin's words wilt on his tongue as he sees what you're carrying—another bouquet, filled with white flowers, yet again.

“Hey,” you smile, standing by the door.

He remains silent, unsure of what to say, or how to speak. He longs for you when you are away, even more so when you’re before him.

“We shouldn't let these white flowers wither away too, right?” you smile slightly, placing the bouquet on the desk before walking to Hyunjin’s bedside. His voice falters, vocal cords refusing to move and overshadow your voice.

You sit beside him, gently pulling his hand so that you’d both lie on the pillows. Your hand doesn’t leave his own, instead, it moves to rest on his cheek, reminiscent of the many times he had cradled your face before. Inch by inch, you close the gap between you, nuzzle the tip of your nose against his own. “Hi, Hyune”, you say softly, and he swallows thickly, his voice coming out just as quietly.

“Hi, my Yn.”

“If we take care of the white flowers together do you think they’ll survive a bit longer?” you ask, your gaze never wavering from his, countless stars twinkling in the depths of your irises.

“I believe so,” he says tentatively, too aware of the warmth of your palm against his skin, of the sweet ache unfurling within his being.

“Mm, and even if they wilt we can always buy new ones. We can learn how to care for them better, with time,” you say, and he nods in agreement, laying his hand atop your own, tilting his head to bestow a chaste kiss on your palm.

“With time,” he echoes softly and you smile, vulnerable yet secure in his gray sheets, in his hold.

“Will you give me time too?” you ask, and Hyunjin reads in your eyes what you mean, understands in the shake of your voice the question you are too afraid to voice. Will he give you time to heal in order to love?

“As long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, pressing his forehead gently atop yours, and you both close your eyes, as a running warmth encloses you both, blooms a blush on both your cheeks.

His arms wrap around your back, drawing you close until your chests are pressed together, your head resting naturally in the curve of his neck. And it is long forgotten in your mind, all the nights you slept in this very bed alone. You feel safe, safe enough to long for love knowing that it patiently awaits you behind the door, once you find enough courage to turn the doorknob. You feel serene, as Hyunjin’s warm palms glide soothingly up and down your spine, as every muscle, every nerve, every atom in your being relaxes in his hold.

You are healing, slowly, with each fleeting second that passes in which Hyunjin’s heartbeat resounds within your chest, as its melody runs through your veins, melds with your own as if it was destined to be there all along. As you rest in Hyunjin, as you find a safe home within his soul to discard your worries at the doorstep and breathe.

“It did get better,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Hm?” He leans back to look at you, and he’s so beautiful, so tender as he gazes at you, you can’t help but trace the contours of his face with your fingers, hoping to commemorate him with your eyes, with your touch.

“You promised me it’ll get better, and it did,” you smile, as your legs further intertwine with his, and his rose perfume becomes an indelible mark on your skin. “Too bad I can't hit your pretty face now,” you joke and he giggles, tipping his head back.

He's so beautiful, body and soul, and he longs for you, you alone.

“But I can still do this,” you murmur before finally pressing your lips against his like a boat finally reaching the shore after months of sailing. You both exhale, in yearning, in relief, as your mouths move together in a slow, languid dance, his hand finding the pulse on your neck, yours settling atop his jaw.

He would kiss you again, this intimately, in the coming months, when your heart expands enough to contain the love Hyunjin deserves. He would kiss you again, when your past comes to haunt you, and healing sounds like an elusive myth you’d never encounter in your life.

And he would kiss you again, over the kitchen table and under the fridge’s light, in between paintings and in supermarket aisles, while picking flowers and watching the first snow.

He would kiss you, this tenderly, in the next winter, and the ones after it, as if his longing for you never wanes. Till blow three disappears from your memory, till all you remember is the love, the true one, the kind one, the soft one Hyunjin alone could have brought you.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x reader #skz x you #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #skz au #skz scenarios #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin angst #hwang hyujin imagines #hyunjin imagines

[gtgbabie0]

-Sirius Black x reader

{Sirius is a little more touch starved then he thought, he just doesn’t know how to ask for help}

Short and sweet! Enjoy as always lovelies!! 💕

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Sirius wildly underestimated just how much of an effect you had on him. He was absolutely hooked on everything revolving around you. Remus and James often teased him for it, telling him that you had him wrapped around your dainty finger, which is somewhat true, not that Sirius would ever admit to it.

But it was still true nonetheless, his heart was yours, wholly.

Which means that in hindsight he most definitely shouldn’t struggle with asking for a simple hug, or kiss or even just to cuddle. But goodness was that easier said than done because the words seem to be caught in the back of his throat. It made him feel silly in a way.

You could tell something was wrong with him just by how quiet he was. Sitting as far away as possible, fidgeting with his hands as he focuses on anything but you. Sirius hates this feeling, whatever it might be.

You notice the way his eyebrows furrow together, how he nibbles on his bottom lip as if he’s deep in contemplation. He looks as if he wants to say something, but he stops before the words can leave him, he does this almost five times before you finally decide to say something.

You nudge his thigh with your foot, making him look over at you, “What’s going on huh? you've been really quiet” You ask, and he almost looks surprised that you even noticed.

He goes to say something but then he closes his mouth once again. There's a beat of silence before speaks again, “Nothing angel, it's nothing” liar, complete liar. And he knows, by the unsure look in your eyes, that you have caught on to his not-so-believable lie, that’s why he’s quick to stand up making his way to your kitchen, saying something about him being 'thirsty'.

He doesn’t want to confront the situation, or his feelings, he's always had a bad habit of bottling things up, in fact, he didn’t really want to think about it, so he avoids it altogether. But you catch on to what's happening pretty quick, the way he kept glancing over at you, how his hands were constantly fiddling with something. It was a dead giveaway.

So you follow him out to the kitchen, noticing that he's leaning against the countertops, his lower back pressed against the dark marble as he runs a hand through his hair with an almost frustrated groan.

You place a gentle hand against his shoulder and he sighs at the warm feeling. “Hey, come here” you whisper, softly smiling at the way his eyes light up as you hold your arms out for him.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, his arms immediately wrap around you, holding you close to him and he swears his heart might just jump out of his chest. It’s pathetic he thinks, how you can make him feel like this, as if he might just crumble.

Your hands soothe against his back, “You should’ve just asked baby” you tell him as he buries his head further into your shoulder breathing deeply, and he feels like he can finally breathe.

“Didn’t know how” he admits and your hands cup either side of his face. Sirius thinks the embarrassment might just eat him alive, but then you press your lips against his and he melts completely at the loving feeling.

He loses himself, his heart blooming with warmth as he chases after your lips with haste, eager to feel you close to him as if it was the first time you’ve seen each other in years.

“Thank you” he whispers, as he rests his forehead against yours and you let out a breathy giggle as your thumb grazes against his cheek.

“Anytime handsome,” you tell him smiling at the way he chuckles, shaking his head softly. His arms circling around you once again.

You tug on his hand as you lead him back to the living room, pulling him down on the sofa with you as you both lay together entwined with nothing but love, and Sirius wouldn’t have it any other way.

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#sirius black #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fic #sirius black drabble #sirius black one shot #sirius imagine #sirius fanfiction #sirius fluff #sirius fic #sirius black scenario #the marauders fanfiction #the marauders fluff #the marauders imagine #the marauders #the marauders x reader #the marauders x you #the marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders x y/n #marauders x you #marauders fanfiction #marauders imagine #marauders fluff #marauders oneshot #marauders drabble

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Trying Them on for Size

My stepdad's eyes rolled back as my friend leapt into his body. Thanks to my distraction, he had a clear jump, and the possession was instant. The beer in his hand didn't even slip as a new guy took over the thick hunk of meet.

"Goddamn, this guy is big!" my stepdad's voice rumbled in uncharacteristic glee, "My arms feel like a ton heavier with all this muscle!"

"I...I cant believe it worked," I stammer, still processing the fact that Sam, my best friend, is inside Paul, my jerk of a stepfather.

Sam lifts a heavy arm and takes a whiff. "Wow, your dad smells rank! Does the pig shower much?" he groans and laughs, "What'd you say this idiot does again?"

"Mechanic, and he's not my dad," I answer, still trying to get over my nerves, "How's it feel...to be in him?"

"Man, he's so muscular and dense. I mean, I can feel how heavy he is, ya know? He's like really sweaty and kinda gross too, but I feel like I could beat the shit out of anyone right now!"

Sam takes a swig of Paul's beer, making the body look just like the alcoholic stepfather I knew and hated. Normally, I'd avoid the guy at all costs. He'd usually only speak to me in grunts, and that was only when he wasn't ignoring my existence. Now, Sam was using his mouth to yap off like an excited puppy.

I think Sam notices that I'm still a little tense, because he stops staring at his massive arms and puts the beer down. Paul's body steps right against me and grabs my hands as he looks down into my eyes. My stepdad would certainly never have done this before.

"How you doin, man?" Sam asks, but I can't help but feel like Paul is talking.

"Good," I lie, "This is just so surreal."

"Well, what do you want to see your old step daddy do for ya?" he asks playfully, "The jerk is at your whim, dude."

"I don't know..."

"Come on, sonny boy! Wanna watch as daddy Paul gets on his hands and knees and crawls to you?"

Sam pilots the muscular body to the floor, while staring longingly up at me with Paul's normally hateful gaze.

"Wanna see your big bad old man, stick out his tongue and lick your shoes?"

Before I can react, Paul...I mean Sam...has stuck out his tongue and started dragging it up the length of my sneaker. God, the sight of my harsh stepfather licking my shoe is incredible! He'd be so humiliated right now.

Sam pulls away from my feet and up to Paul's knees, "Maybe he needs to find another way to express just how sorry he is to his favorite boy."

Sam's lips hang open as he inches towards my tenting pants. My heart is racing with the anticipation of getting Paul's lips on my aching cock.

"I'm home!" a singsong voice echoes through the house.

"Shit, your mom!" Sam growls with Paul's hoarse voice, "I mean, my wife."

"Shut up," I snap, "Let's go to your house. We can get an early start to phase two."

My grizzled stepdad smirks, and we sneak out. Phase two involves Sam's biggest bully: his older brother, and he just got off work.

Michael was even easier to distract and jump into than my stepdad was. I may have been a little nervous, but after watching Sam do it at my house, I was practically a pro.

"Woah," I gasp in a much deeper tone than I'm used to, "Your brother is tall."

"Yeah, he was the basketball star before he graduated. Now he just bums around in the basement and beats me up after work," Sam explains.

I have to admit that it's a little weird to hear my friend complaining about getting picked on when he's wearing a super mature and muscular body. Though, Paul does look less intimidating when I see him from the towering height of the stud I'm in.

"Where were we?" I suggestively purr, getting a hang of using this guy's voice.

"Paul was about to apologize," Sam flashes a smile which looks foreign on Paul's face, "But I think you should make Michael apologize to me first."

I chuckle and take a step towards him, but almost stumble over the massive feet I have on.

"Damn, he's clumsy," I laugh, "Your brother deserves some sort of punishment, but what do you want him to do? Drop down and kiss your ass profusely or maybe bend over and take a good beating?"

"Both," Paul's mouth gulps as his calloused hands struggle to hide a growing hard-on.

"Or maybe you want to hear your brother grovel and beg for forgiveness?" I go on, dropping Michael's body to its knees, "Or maybe you can find a better use for this pathetic mouth."

"Shit, man!" I hear Paul's voice whine, "We're definitely going to make these straight assholes screw each other! But then we have to take them out tonight. They need to be put through something more public!"

"Oh I like that!" I moan from inside Michael, "Offer these jerks' bodies up for use at every gay bar!"

"At every gas station!" Sam excitedly claps Paul's hands together.

"They can pound Michaels ass while Paul tongue-polishes their boots!"

"Come here!" Sam growls.

"Yes, sir."

I jump into Sam's arms! Well, Michael jumps into Paul's arms. As electric as it feels, I can constantly sense that we don't own the bodies we are in. We're just puppeteering them.

That thought makes me wonder if Michael or Paul can feel all this somewhere deep down. It's a fleeting thought, because I'm already lost in the experience of making out with the jerk of a stepfather while Sam enjoys playing with his bully of a brother.

God, these bodies are hot. By the time, Sam and I are done wearing them, Paul and Michael will be the hottest pair of messes in town...

#mind control #gay mind control #male transformation #gay ai art #gay possession #body swap #male body swap #body suit #body theft

[ponderingmoonlight]

Having to share a bed with Gojo Satoru at a love hotel

Listen...I've got a little carried away by this one. While I'm currently writing for Geto and Toji, this part will only contain Gojo as it ended up so damn long. Hope you still enjoy <3

Part l (Megumi, Nanami, Yuta)

Part lll (Toji, Geto, Haibara, Choso)

Sharing a bed with JJk men pt ll

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,8k (this was supposed to be a cute little one shot lol)

Warnings: No real smut, but it's getting REALLY spicy - you have been warned...

Synopsis: After pretending to be in a relationship with Gojo for some time, the two of you seem to be the perfect match for a mission at a love hotel.

It is ridiculous. You both know that all too well. Will it stop you from pretending to be Gojo’s girlfriend even though you aren’t more than friends? Absolutely not. You’ve been doing this for a while now, at the beginning only to take him as your plus one to a wedding and for him to fake proposals at restaurants for free meals. You are very aware of the fact that this is already going too far, especially when you consider that whole Jujutsu High seems to believe you.

“Hello there Gojo-bear!”, you cry out.

But it’s just way too fucking funny and comfortable to stop now. The thing is, it has a whole lot of benefits: easier missions, raises over raises, less trouble because everyone seems to fear your ‘boyfriend’ but most importantly you get to spend some time with Satoru himself. You hate to admit it, but the way he smiles down at you and wraps his arm around your waist does things to you you’d never say out loud.

“There you are honey!”, he replies with a sly grin, embracing you in his arms just like he always does.

The problem is, you just know that it isn’t more for him than a joke. Your heart stings in agony just thinking about the way he immediately scoots away from you as soon as nobody’s around anymore. To Satoru, you really are nothing more than a friend he enjoys to spend time and mess with.

“Yikes, why is this so cringe?”, Nobara mutters.

“Just wait until you find your true love, kids”, Satoru shouts towards them.

Fuck that ass eating smile of him and the way it makes your heart flutter. It’s all a lie and nothing else. Nothing but a made up story. Remember that.

“Satoru, (y/n). I have a mission for you. Follow me.”

The harsh voice of Masamichi Yaga pulls you out of your distress. A mission for both of you? Normally Satoru is sent alone. After all, he is the strongest and every other jujutsu sorcerer is only in his way. What is it that makes him think it is a good idea to send the both of you together?

“We were informed about a curse that killed over 100 couples within the span of a few weeks in several love hotels located in Tokyo. As you guys are the most disgusting couple I’ve ever seen, both of you were assigned to stay at the love hotel with the greatest number of deaths and exorcise that curse once and for all. Understood?”

It’s like your world turns upside down. Did you really hear that correctly? This has to be a joke, right? Ain’t no way he really thinks you and Satoru…Your gaze wanders to his shamelessly gorgeous face that seems as unbothered as usual. Of course. Everyone thinks you are a couple. Therefore, you are a perfect fit for this mission.

“Nothing easier than that. Just send me the location and we’ll get this done in no time. Right honey?”

“Right…”, you mumble.

“You know what that means, right?”, you hiss into his ear after leaving the director’s office.

“Yeah, a free night in a luxurious hotel on the back of the school!”

“No.”

You sign. How the hell is he so unmoved by all of this? Not even Satoru can be too dumb to realize what staying in a love hotel in order to exorcise a curse means…Right?

“If this curse only shows up in front of couples at love hotels then…then…”

Your mouth refuses to say it out loud. No, you are too prideful to confess to him that it makes your knees go weak and your heart bang inside your chest. Why do you bother anyway? You stretch your shoulders and look at him, face hardened.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

The ride into the heart of Tokyo is longer than you remember it, considering Satoru is sitting right beside you and watching anime on his phone.

“Damn, this part gets me every time”, he almost sobs.

“How often did you watch that already?”

“I lost count at 17. What is that look on your face? Don’t you know what happens next?”

“I never watched that one”, you admit, casually shrugging your shoulders.

Satoru drops his phone, intense gaze piercing through you even though he’s wearing glasses.

“You’ve got to be kidding right? You are my girlfriend and you never-“

Thick silence, your eyes widen at the sound of this words coming from his mouth. Girlfriend? Did he actually say that?

“I mean fake girlfriend of course. Just getting ready for later I guess”, he adds along with scratching the back of his head.

“Sure”, you reply automatically.

Can your heart just stop beating so damn loud? This is ridiculous, it was a slip of the tongue and nothing more.

“Listen, (y/n)…As soon as we step through the door of that hotel, you have to be my girlfriend”, he instructs you in a dead serious voice.

“No need to tell me, Gojo-bear…”, you comment dryly, more directed towards yourself than him.

After all, it is you whose love isn’t just a funny little prank. Your feelings are more than real, considering you can almost hear your heart shattering like fragile glass. How stupid it was to even think he could somehow feel the same way, that it’s more than a game to him. Who knows how much time he spends with other women behind your back…

“This is it. Are you ready?”

Get. Yourself. Together. You smile confidently and nod. Being in love with Gojo Satoru might be senseless, but revealing your true feelings towards him is even worse. No, you are way too prideful to give him that. Without thinking twice you grab his hand tightly just like you did multiple times before. You will get through this and bring this madness to an end after this mission.

“Hey, we’ve booked a room here for two.”

“The name?”, the man behind the desk asks while eyeing you intensely.

Fuck, don’t let your face turn red, withstand his gaze. Maybe he’s asking himself why a man like Satoru is with a girl like you…

“Gojo Satoru.”

“There you go. Feel free to use the elevator and call immediately if something is strange. Please check out before midday. Have a nice stay.”

“We sure will!”, Satoru replies with a cheeky grin before taking the key card and maneuvering you into the elevator.

“God, I can’t wait to be alone with you baby.”

You feel like choking while staring at him. Did he really just say that, is this for real?

“Listen, (y/n)…As soon as we step through the door of that hotel, you have to be my girlfriend”

Your heart sinks. Calm down, idiot. It’s only for the mission. You never know when and where the curse is, so it just makes sense to play along until it shows up. Reluctantly you smile at him with dead eyes. Why does this hurt so fucking badly? You pretended to be his girlfriend for more than a year now and it never bothered you that he held your hand and called you stupid nicknames. But this…This is something completely different. You are at a love hotel and Satoru is straight up trying to seduce you. How the hell are you supposed to feel about all of this?

“Let’s go, shall we?”

His hand rests on your hip while he leads you to the right room with ease. It feels like his hand burns against your skin, suddenly the air is way too hot to breathe properly. You want to get out of here, away from Satoru but at the same time you need him so much closer…What has gotten into you?

“Hey, no need to be nervous babe, I got you”, he breathes against your outer ear.

“I just…never done something like this. That’s all”, you admit dryly while avoiding his gaze at all cost.

“I’ll guide you, no worries.”

He closes the door behind you and cages your body with his. You are trapped between Satoru’s arms, no way to escape his intense stare and the way his large frame feels pressed against yours. At this point it seems like all of your senses and the ability to interact have simply vanished from your body. His gaze is…filthy, completely occupied by lust as it seems. You feel like your knees will give in any minute, heart almost pounding out of your chest while blood begins to pulsate between your legs. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Are you fainting? What is this feeling?

“I’ll make you feel the way you deserve it”, Satoru rasps.

Before you can react, he lifts you in the air with ease and throws you on the soft bed in the middle of the room.

“S-satoru…I-I…never done this”, you repeat with choked voice, sweat dripping down your face while you desperately try to stop yourself from wincing.

God, he makes you feel so weak with the way his eyes hungrily linger over your body and seem to swallow you whole.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

And then it happens. His lips brush against yours. Slowly at first, almost sweetly. You close your eyes, hands automatically grabbing his strong biceps in a frantic attempt to get a hold of this situation. Is all of this a dream? Impossible. The way his arms are wrapped around you while his unmistakable scent fills the air around is way too real for that. Satoru picks up the pace, his tongue inviting itself into your mouth to get instantly into a tangled dance with yours. Fuck, this feels so good, almost like you’re on drugs – addicted to his touch and kisses.

“Satoru”, you literally moan into his parted lips.

You need to feel his body even closer, his touch a little rougher, his lips even better. You want more. No, you need more. More of the drug that only Satoru Gojo seems to be able to give you.

“I-I need more”, you stutter, eyes gleaming in pleasure.

“I would give you the world, (y/n). Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long…”

“How much I hate all of these fucking happy couples. Die! All of you, die!”

It’s like you get hit by a train when the distorted voice of a stranger fills the room with hatred and disgust. Satoru’s body blocks the view of the curse making its way through the ceiling at the speed of light. Automatically, you claw into his upper arms for hold.

“Took you quite some time to get here. I was almost afraid that you wouldn’t show up for our rendez-vous.”

“Would you mind letting me go for a second, darling?”, he words addressed to you.

Your hands let go of him immediately, body rolling to the other side of the bed in order to give Satoru the room he needs. The fight itself doesn’t take long. In fact, you aren’t even able to catch a glimpse at the curse before the room is lit up in purple, lilac glibber raining down on the bed with pieces of the ceiling, threatening to hit you right in your face. Pressing your eyes shut, you surrender to your fate. Not the first time you get covered in the remaining of some disgusting curse…

“Do you really think I’d let you get covered in this? You don’t know me well, darling.”

When you open your eyes again, you aren’t greeted by lilac glibber. In fact, it stopped right before hitting you with full force. You let out your breath you didn’t know you were holding, gaze finding Satoru’s bright blue orbs that seem to glitter.

“I’d say we smashed that mission”, he proudly announces, shaking the remaining of the ceiling and curse away from both of you while lifting himself off the bed.

You slowly get up from your trance, heart completely shattering at his words. You smashed the mission? Is this everything he is able to think about? Just seconds ago he laid on top of you, his tongue in your mouth while he told you over and over the finest things you ever heard from him. Everything nothing but…a lie? You want to get away from him as soon as possible, the pictures of him and you burn into your heart like a fuel rod. It was all just a game for him, a necessary price he had to pay to complete the mission.

“Thank god we did”, you hiss and abruptly jump out of bed, body swaying back and forth in dizziness.

Salty tears start to burn in your eyes, flooding over any second. No, don’t cry. What about your pride, how you always carried yourself with your head held high? A sob shakes your body before you can stop it. Fuck all of that. This hurts like hell.

“Hey, what is going on? Are you sad because I didn’t let you have your moment with that curse? Y’know, he was a pretty weak grade 1 any-“

“Is all of this a joke to you?”, you yell into his face, tears now running like a waterfall while your chest feels like it’s going to explode.

Satoru’s eyes widen in horror. Fuck, he never saw you like this. And the worst is that he seems to be the cause of your tears.

“You’re anything but a joke to me, (y/n)”, he replies dead serious.

“All the things you said were nothing but a big lie! All these kisses meant nothing to you!”, you cry out.

“(y/n)-“

“They did to me though. I never shared a bed with a man before, Satoru. It was special to me.”

Your voice sounds so defeated that Satoru instinctively gets up and walks towards you.

“But it was special to me too, (y/n)! It was always more than just pretending for me.”

“Stop kidding me. This pretending comes to an end right now. From now on, I’m not your fake girlfriend anymore.”

“Good, that’s what I wanted to say.”

You nod to yourself while his cruel words hit you like a wall all over again. So this is how it comes to an end. You always knew that sooner or later, you wouldn’t be able to keep up with the lies anymore. How were you supposed to build a future on top of a pile of foul lies? It was beneficial as long as it lasted. You shouldn’t have expected more from the start.

“I don’t want you to be my fake girlfriend anymore. Please, just make it real and official. I loved you this whole time (y/n). It always felt better to pretend than to potentially not having you at all. Today showed me that I can’t be without you, that I want to share a bed with you every night and not just for a mission. I’m beggin’ on my knees if I have to, please be my girlfriend.”

Time stands still, you are unable to move as your mind desperately tries to process what he just said. He want you to be his girlfriend…for real?

“Stop messing around with me, Gojo”, you warn him.

But a little voice inside you tells you that he isn’t lying, that his face tells nothing but the truth. Can it really be that the Gojo Satoru wants you to be his girlfriend? Your skin starts to prickle while your heartbeat picks up in an instant. Please let this be real…

“I’m not. I want to hold you like I did before that fucking curse appeared every hour of the day and not just when someone’s around, (y/n).”

“But…Why did you always break away from me when we were alone? You could have just told me, I-“

You stop. You did it just like him. Pretended that it’s nothing but a stupid joke to you, that Satoru didn’t mean more than a friend does. You told yourself over and over that your feelings aren’t real, that you are just a good actor. Oh, but it was so much more. It is so much more.

“I did the same”, you confess your thoughts to him.

“Please, (y/n). Let’s make it real, no pretending anymore. Be by my side.”

His hands gently cup your face while your arms instinctively wrap around his neck.

“Nothing better than that”, you mutter before pressing your lips against his.

“You know, that bed is still looking good and we’ve booked for a night…”

“Let’s not waste the precious money of Jujutsu High, then”, you moan while he bites down your neck.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo saturo #jujustu kaisen #gojou satoru x reader #gojo jjk #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x you

[xjulixred45x]

Can I please request the female douma in hasbin hotel I just saw the new trailer and thought about my favourite demon lazy demon .

Ohhhh, Hazbin Hotel! That pretty cool! Deal ;)

Thanks for the Request ❤️

Hazbin Hotel x Douma Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: neutral

Warnings: Douma itself is a Warnings (Cults, cannibalism), Hell, Alastor, mentions of alcohol, long work.

You died during the Taisho era, in Japan. having lived a fairly long and…full life, so to speak.

You were born with a unique appearance! with Rainbow irises that made you extremely popular in the area where you lived.

So much so that the people in your family believed that you had a special gift for speaking with the gods, so they formed a cult around you.

without knowing that in this way they would be awakening the darker side of your being.

As you grew up, being worshiped by the cult your parents had made, you couldn't really learn to differentiate emotions, which was frustrating. You wanted to feel SOMETHING, anything. have the experience.

and you tried everything.

do good things, do bad things, help the cult people with words you didn't really mean, scam, hurt, hurt animals, hurt yourself, hurt others in multiple ways, etc.

Even if they generated a certain feeling of emotion in you, you wouldn't say that they filled you up.

until you decided to try killing certain disciples and eating them to get rid of them.

and it was a success!You finally started to feel the emotions that others talked so much about!

Although of course, not all good things come for free, when you died there was no doubt that you would fall to hell, and so it was.

Honestly, You were very surprised to have fallen into hell, not because you didn't deserve it, but because you were an atheist all your life, believing that everything you preached was a lie.

And it turns out that it was true?? How curious.

but it didn't mean you wouldn't take advantage of your new playground.

With your natural charm, your unique and striking appearance (almost the same as you were when you were human) you were able to convince several low-ranking demons to trust you with their souls, rising in rank exponentially.

To make it easier for you, with your demon abilities you created a place similar to what your cult was like, there you could more easily control the people who gave you their souls.

In record time you became an Overlord. one quite well known but very mysterious. One that had a striking appearance and powers, but was rarely seen.

You could do anything you wanted in hell! which made the scope of your misdeeds increase exponentially, you couldn't be happier!

If we're talking about interacting with Hazbin Hotel's rl cast, of course you did! You were somewhat curious to know how Lucifer's daughter's attempt at humanitarian aid would fail. Also, bother Alastor? You are in!

Technically you already knew Alastor, you two died at similar times (you died before) and you saw how he rose very strongly among the Overlords, you liked him.

Unfortunately Alastor did not enjoy your company in the least, precisely because it made it very difficult for him to read you, either because of your lack of GENUINE emotion or because, like him, you used the trick of always having a smiling and pleasant facade.

Still, of course, he would rather be killed again than admit that.

But it was really a shame, he found some aspects of you pleasant.

For example, your taste in Canibal cuisine, Alasror recognized that you had good taste in that aspect.

Apart from that, you came from a VERY rich culture and spoke fluently in both English and Japanese, which was a great sight. Alastor normally wouldn't think that someone (at first glance) so airheaded would be able to speak a language like that so fluently.

but he is definitely something like your Akaza.

I mean, every time you push him out enough, Alastor will use Elrich magic on you and destroy you in the most grotesque ways possible.

That's until he realizes that you like it when he does that! That you make him hurt you on purpose because you're a masochistic son of a bitch!

The worst thing is that he doesn't realize this until Husk tells him...having already known you for years.

Speaking of, Husk doesn't trust you, not in the slightest.

he thinks you're a freak, a second Alastor but even worse, at least Alastor is honest about how horrible he is unlike you.

He serves you drinks when you ask, but if he can, he throws the glass directly in your eye or head, simply because he can. for your delight.

He is quicker to realize your intentions than the average person, and if he realizes that you want to turn one of the hotel members into your "dinner" he is drawing the cards SO FAST---

lots of offensive nicknames, to counteract the "affectionate" nicknames you give to people you know.

Don't touch it or ask it by surprise. Have you seen how cats do when they step on their tail? that's Husk when you surprise him.

Charlie...she's insecure about you.

and she feels BAD about it! She is supposed to be impartial and that everyone deserves a chance to change their ways! but you...well, it's you.

Charlie is not so naive, when more than one member of the Staff warns her that you are bad news, she is considerate of them and tries to make you leave, they have already had incidents with Overlords before, she wants to believe that you are different.

but it proves quite quickly that not when you show your more... somber side.

She tries to be cautious, failing miserably because she wants to know everything about you. You are someone very interesting!

Charlie definitely didn't have much of an idea who you were when she met you, your name did ring any bells, but she didn't think it was that important ---

until you casually blurted out the information that you had a fucking cult.

and that you eat demons.

FROM THE SAME FUCKING CULT YOU HAVE.

There Charlie decides to put into practice everything given in "setting boundaries" and tells you that although she likes how... you liven up the atmosphere of the hotel (and the air conditioning in some way) she DEFINITELY does not want to associate with you having Alastor.

if she KNOWS that you are trying to do something against the hotel or any of the staff members (especially Vaggie)...ohohoho buddy, prepare yourself for an ANGRY Charlie ready to show you WHO'S THE BOSS HERE.

(She definitely tries to get several members of your cult to go to the hotel with her to protect them from you).

You get on Vaggie's nerves. A Lot.

not only because you cool everything you touch, but because you are very similar to Alastor.

She knows you're hiding something, that you want something from them but she can't get it out of you easily, so she's content to just watch you from a distance and make sure you don't mess with anyone.

VERY PROTECTIVE WITH EVERYONE WHEN YOU ARE THERE, it increases the hotel's defenses by 130% and keeps you away from where others are.

You definitely like to annoy her by calling her names that are too friendly for your type of relationship or even using her as an armrest. In these types of cases you usually receive a few good punches in the ribs or a headbutt.

If you try to get too close, she applies the pilot's weapon to you, that is, she takes out her angelic spear and threatens you with a lot of violence. cursing you in Spanish in the process.

She's not as intimidated by you as she is by Alastor, but she definitely doesn't think you're safer for any reason.

less after finding out what you do with the people in your cult.

good luck keeping Vaggie from killing you!

Angel Dust is scared of you, like, really scared.

It's not because you're similar to Alastor, or because you're a Cannibal, or because you're a powerful Overlord. not at all.

It's because you are very similar to Valentino.

You pretend to be a good person, that you give a shit about what happens to the people at the hotel, but really no, it's all fake. REALLY fake.

you feel nothing.

and that terrifies him. He doesn't know how he acts around you. so Angel avoids you as much as he can, going near the fireplace since you don't like the heat, or near Husk.

he keeps making jokes at your expense, but it's really his way of handling the situation.

apart from the fact that Angel genuinely thinks you're pathetic, because you couldn't find any other way to enjoy your life and another life other than hurting people.

that's pathetic.

Yes, she won't let you be near the most vulnerable residents, like Niffty (when she's drunk) and she definitely won't let you be near Fatt Nuggets.

Try him and he will show you what he lived by while he was alive.

Niffty isn't scared of you in the slighleast.

In fact she is attracted to you on many levels, but Alastor will NEVER LET you be even a kilometer close to her in his presence.

In fact, there is a high possibility that you and her will secretly become friends, but Niffty better take care of herself around you.

She makes you use your ice powers so she can make things in the snow, snow angels, dolls, kill bugs with snow picks, etc.

she likes you and you like her :) surprisingly.

Sir Pentious is quite similar to Angel with you.

Sir Pentious is very aware of your reputation as a fearsome Overlord and definitely does not want to join the list of victims with his Eggboys, so he stays as far away from you as possible.

He has tried to make inventions resistant to your frozen currents, since it costs Charlie quite a few resources (because you don't pay a shit for what you break, you cheapskate) and certain artifacts that counteract your ice powers.

He brings several of his smoke machines to the hotel when he knows you're coming to visit (and if you come as a surprise, most likely everyone will hide in Pentious's warship because it's very hot in there.

Yes, he doesn't let his Ehgboys be near you in the slightest, he tells them horror stories with you like the big egg-eating monster.

and if you try something with his Minions PREPARE FOR THE DEATH RAY--

In general, you are a pain in the ass for everyone, everyone, always :)

^when they find out You come to visit

Thanks for the Request ❤️

#headcanons #fem reader #neutral reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin niffty #hazbin vaggie #kny douma #hazbin hotel sir pentious

[khaosrealms]

YUE LAO’S BLESSINGS (part four!) / saying i love you— as if urged by the gods themselves.

a/n: honestly i’d say i’m surprised i’m making another part of this, but that would be a lie— because here i am, with another part! thank you so much again for such a big response to my writing! to you, dear reader, i dedicate this post 🩵 !

REPTILE:

“I love you” from Syzoth is nothing more than his purest honesty. It drips out from his every pore, leaks out from the crevices of his heart and into every word and action he shows you. His stares, his touches— his kisses, his embrace. “I love you” is always knowing he’s there. To hold, to run; wherever you go, Syzoth will be there, waiting for you, wishing to be with you. Hoping, pleading that the world, as cruel as it may be, would never be as cruel to you as it has to him. “I love you, as much as you deserve more.” And even when you respond back, his pounding heart simply can’t believe he’d be allowed something so good and true.

SINDEL:

“I love you” is Sindel’s consecration to you. The promise you have made to her in choosing to bind yourself to an Empress. You won’t be her only love, you know; but the love there will be honor-held, tightly wound. “I love you” is kneeling by her feet, worshipping her warm skin and powerful eyes. It is dying to preserve her. Living to speak praise of her. Pleading for one more kiss before she leaves you to attend to her duty. “I will not forget your love.” Sindel promises, knowing she will outlive you but allowing you to stay tucked in her heart. Deep within, kept safe and warm, no matter how much it may burn her.

REIKO:

“I love you” for Reiko is fuel enough to fight battles, to win wars. You are his as truly as he is your’s. He’d survive for you, fight for you, kill for you. “I love you” is never fearing the night. Never fearing the dark. It is the purple marks he leaves on your flesh to mark you as his. The stain of his hand across your chest, the blood of his foes on your back. “They will rue the day they spoke your name.” That is Reiko’s promise to you; in all his blood-soaked glory. Stained into your lips, forever his to return to once the battle has been won.

BARAKA:

“I love you” is a choked back word, itching in the back of Baraka’s throat. A lost home, a lost title, a lost love. It’s hesitation, sitting there as he approaches. So strong— this former merchant. To command, to lead; but still diseased, still too scared to love again and lose. “I love you” is distance. Always an arms length away; a whisper away. Touch through fabric, words across tables. Gazes with so much yearning he might melt if you’d look back the very same way. “Are you well?” Baraka asks; because it’s easier than admitting he’s fallen in love again. Easier than losing you to Tarkat’s cruel kiss as well.

GERAS:

“I love you” is an odd sentiment on Geras’ tongue, like a stone being rolled by the waves; smoothed over, coaxed into the sun. It is questioning, curiosity— the first touch of mortal warmth, a paradox made true. “I love you” is time Geras spends in silence. Imagining you, thinking of you. Feeling the lines that form you; fingers across your cheek and through your hair. Understanding you and learning he knew nothing of the beauty of the many, many worlds until you gazed up at him. Smiling only at him. “Is this love?” Geras asks knowing it is the first question he’s never held an answer for. The terror it should cause, to be unlearned; but instead, smiling, back only at you.

#mortal kombat x reader #reptile x reader #sindel x reader #reiko x reader #baraka x reader #geras x reader #mk1 #mk1 headcanons #mk1 imagines #x reader #khaosrealms #i want you to guess #what time it is right now. #go on. it won’t be hard to guess 😭 #yue lao imagine

[jaegersdevil]

like real people [megumi fushiguro]

megumi fushiguro x reader

summary: love can still find you even in your darkest hour. w/c: 1.7k a/n: megumi and reader are in their early/mid-twenties. this is a little different from anything else i’ve written in terms of the language, but i think i'm happy with it. i'm a bit scared to post this. i hope it makes sense, and if it doesn't, tell me, please :) warnings: angst, idiots in love, both parties emotionally hurt by past relationships, insinuations of past relationship abuse (megumi), ooc megumi, it's 4am idk please let me know.

“Is it so wrong to wish to love and be loved in return?” 

No words came before you. To say you weren’t expecting this conversation would be a lie — it was a long time coming. After the party, after you had blatantly brushed him off in front of his friends, Megumi couldn’t come up with a plausible explanation for why you did what you did. After months of dancing around each other, why couldn’t you commit to what you wanted when it was so very clear, Megumi?

“Megumi,” You weren’t oblivious to his lovelorn stare or his fingers fidgeting.

“Please,” He begged, stepping closer to you, his hands clasped before him. 

You screwed your eyes shut at his vulnerable state. Was it easier to remain ignorant of your apparent and lengthy tension? Perhaps then you wouldn’t feel so guilty about the impulse to leave.

But, standing before a man who had a hard time sharing his emotions and choosing to ignore them rather than help? You wouldn't do such a thing.

“It’s not wrong, per se, Megs,” You started, eyes trained on the hardwood floor, never meeting his pleading ones. “Maybe naive.” 

A sharp intake caused a shiver down your spine. “Naive?” 

You chewed heavily on your bottom lip and couldn't keep your tears at bay. "I just learned you planned to get engaged when we met, Megumi. What was I meant to do? I didn't want your friends to think I was exploiting your emotions. How I never knew until now..."  

Megumi sighed and looked away, shaking his head. He wanted to say that meeting you saved him. How you dug him out of the ground and breathed life into his delicate lungs brought him back to life. If you had never met, he would still be six feet in the dirt, a ghost of who he once was. Do people love others who have been damaged so severely that the idea of love itself is considered terrifying and not comforting in the slightest? 

"You know they wouldn't think that of you. And I didn't tell you because I was embarrassed and afraid. I know that isn't a good enough excuse for you because you've been in my life for so long, but it was better to keep it quiet. I don't know!"

He tried to keep his voice steady, always one to hold back his true feelings until he was behind closed doors — and even then, he would force them back inside.

But, as he looked at you, Megumi believed the possibility of admitting he loved you was far closer than anticipated. However, the fear you wouldn’t reciprocate burned in his bones so profoundly he feared they would turn to ash inside him. All he wanted was to love and be loved without the devastating consequences he had suffered before — if love without pain existed. 

Nonetheless, Megumi couldn't seem to shake the feeling of emptiness that had been plaguing him for weeks.

“Will we ever be normal? Will we ever kiss like real people do? Will I ever get to hold you without the looming fear that you’ll just pack up and leave?” He thought out loud.

A flight risk. You gave him a bitter smile and nodded.

“That’s all I am to you? Someone that you’re scared to be with because I’ve never ‘stuck around’ for anyone else? Do you ever wonder why I left them?” You raised your eyebrows in question. When Megumi didn’t answer, you finished. “Because they were assholes who just wanted someone to use, and I was at their disposal.”

Megumi grimaced at your choice of words but understood. It had taken him almost a year, but he finally understood your greatest anxieties. “I would never use you.” 

You sniffled, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I know that, but I'm still paranoid. Leave before you get left, isn’t that what they say?” 

The room was silent for a moment while you both collected yourselves. In contemplation, Megumi ran his hands over his dark hair, and you picked at your nails. 

“I’m sorry,” Megumi mumbled, wiping at his cheeks where stray tears had left salty trails. “I’m sorry for offending you. I didn’t mean it like that. My anxiety is not on you at all; it’s not your fault, and I’ll apologise for the rest of my life if that will make up for my sheer ignorance.” 

You shrugged half-heartedly, a smile tugging at your lips. “I’m sorry for calling you naive. It’s not true. Love is humanity’s greatest desire, and you are entirely valid for wanting such things, especially after your ex..." You narrowed your eyes at him softly.

Unspoken words hung in the air like smoke. His past relationship was calamitous, and her name was never spoken amongst his friends again after they found out what had happened. She was referred to as ‘she who must not be named’ in his friend group, but that was the only joke. Nothing she did to Megumi was laughable. 

The kitchen light was flickering, you noticed. You'd have to change the bulb.

“I bet you regret meeting me,” He smiled fleetingly. You looked at him quizzically. “Anyone else wouldn’t be insulting you in your kitchen.” 

“I'll never regret meeting you, Megumi,” You took his hand in yours. “And you didn’t insult me. Yes, it hurts, but it’s a harsh truth I have to swallow. I have to understand that not everyone is out to get me. It'll take some time, but I wish to get there someday.”  

“And I'll help you believe that, okay? I won't leave you. Not now, not ever, because you are my favourite person, darling. And should I ever leave you, let me die the most painful death because you deserve a great deal of love — more than I could ever give you, but I will try my best, alright?” 

You nodded, reeling with the weight of his words. He spoke with such comprehension it had you reeling — had he ever confessed his feelings for someone like this before? So thought out and with a pleading look in his eye that made your chest hurt?

Instead of wondering about him, you pulled Megumi closer by his jacket collar, which you realised he never took off when he got to your apartment. Pushing the jacket over his shoulders, you placed the garment on the kitchen counter. Your tear-stained cheeks were glossy under the yellowing ceiling light, and Megumi pulled you back to him, running his fingers over your face to wipe away the streams.

A switch flipped, and suddenly, it felt like the world would end if Megumi didn't tell you his deepest longings. He would lose you if he didn't express how much he had come to care for you. You couldn't take chances in a world full of Jujutsu, especially when the one you loved was tiptoeing the line of death every day.

“I don’t want to not be with you, and it was never my intention to insinuate that. I have a lot of love to give, but I’ve given it to the wrong people in the past who never acknowledged or appreciated it. But I’m ready to give it to you,” Megumi muttered. It required abundant courage to say it, but Megumi was glad he didn’t hold back once it was out — his father would be disgusted if he saw his son now.

The room's atmosphere had changed dramatically, and all hostility once felt in your stomach had dissipated. This was a time of reassuring each other that their greatest fears would not trouble them as long as they were together. 

“I adore you,” Megumi whispered, his heart beating out of his chest. “And I’m not just saying that because of our argument. I’m telling you that I never meant for us to end; I was just getting started with you when I walked through that door tonight. Never mind if you brushed me off at some stupid party.”

Your face heated with shame at the memory. “I'm sorry, I panicked.” 

Megumi nodded in understanding. “I know. And I’m here to tell you that there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll be on your side, always.” 

Lifting your head from his chest and resting your finger on his lips, you shook your head. “My turn.” 

Megumi’s eyebrows raised slightly, and he nodded. 

“Enough consoling me, okay? You need to know that you’re the one for me, too, so you don’t spiral again and start doubting my love for you and your own for me,” Megumi flushed. “You are the most remarkable man I’ve ever met, and no amount of scepticism would deter me from you because you’re all I want. I love you, okay? I will live and die for the moments we share because I treasure them the most out of everything I do. You are love, and I want to drown myself in you for the rest of our lives if you let me.” 

It was silent. Megumi’s heartbeat was so quick he almost couldn’t feel it. You love him. 

You ignored his blank stare and continued. “You don’t have to say it yet, but I know you do. And if it turns out you don’t love me as much as I, you, I will live on my own for the remainder of time because I know that I had the most incredible love in the universe with you, and I would be content with that. Nobody else could make me feel the way you do.” 

Megumi squeezed his eyes shut until he saw stars and then sighed. “You mean so much to me. I’m sorry I can’t find a way to tell you yet, but I will. I know it in my soul.”

“You already have,” You hugged him tighter, and Megumi rubbed his large hands up and down your back. 

The kitchen light had stopped flickering.

“Why can’t we have a relationship like real people? Because I’m starting to think we’re living in some sort of hallucination together,” You mumbled, giggles slipping from your lips.

Megumi’s chest vibrated with low laughter, but the action rattled his bones. “We’ll figure it out. We're not like real people anyway.”

—

playlist: like real people do - hozier — this is me trying - taylor swift — labyrinth - taylor swift — snow on the beach - taylor swift (w lana del rey)

#megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro imagine #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk #megumi x you #megumi angst #— ann writes!

[sebsbarnes]

letters to a loved one || tangerine

tangerine x reader

summary: the only form of communication you and tangerine can use when he is on a mission is email, however, as the weeks and months go by, your words have been left unanswered.

warnings: angst

word count: 1.4k

masterlist

a/n: this is a lot different than my normal works so i hope you enjoy this different format

aug 5th, 2022: i know it's only been two days since you left but i miss you so much already! good luck today, kick some ass!! mwah! xoxo

aug 15th, 2022: hi honey. i hope the mission went well a few days ago! even though email is the safest way we can communicate while you're gone i know you can't always respond even if you're in a safe house. i'm not too worried, i know how skilled you and lemon are. tell him i say hi! i can't wait for you to be home, you estimated you'd be back on the 17th so i have a nice dinner planned. <3 love you so so much my sweet tang!

aug 27th, 2022: hey tang, i can't lie and say i'm not a tiny bit worried but i keep telling myself you've been gone longer before with zero communication. maybe it feels different now because of how long we've been together. i miss waking up to you and grabbing our keys and heading out for the day. if you see this message me back! even if you can't fully respond i'll settle with a smiley face if i must! haha. oh by the way i still cooked that dinner i had planned for us, it came out soooo yummy. but it took so long omg! you're lucky i love you and i'm willing to spend 8 hours in the kitchen again. it will probably taste better this time since you will be by my side. love you lots!

sept 12th, 2022: i only just saw the news of the bullet train derailment in japan on august 5th. that was your mission wasn't it? you said the 5th. i'm worried more now, i can't lie, but like i tell you every day i know how skilled you are. even though i never want to wish you are in a hospital i hope that's where you are recovering with lemon by your side. when you get the chance please email me back, okay? i love you.

sept 14th, 2022: tangerine if you see this please email or call me.

sept 30th, 2022: i wish i could talk to you just once. one word so i know you are okay. i can't reach lemon either. i wake up every day hoping you will be laying next to me. please, please give me something so i know you are alright? anything. where are you tangerine? i don't want to keep crying but that's all i can do. sit here in our empty house and cry. the walls feel like they are closing in on me. i went to our favorite breakfast spot the other day and i got that really sweet older lady with the grey curly hair as my waitress. she asked where you've been. i don't know how much longer i can keep saying you are gone for work and people believe it... i no longer believe it either. i hate typing it out. i don't want to believe something awful happened but something did, didn't it? i can feel it in my body. please reach out to me, i miss you so much and i love you so so much tangerine, please.

oct 26th, 2022: i love halloween, you know that more than anyone. decorations everywhere, piles of candy, and everyone dressing up pretending to be someone else for the night. now i feel bad about how much i bugged you about this year's halloween. my friends keep telling me to come out and join them, but if i'm being honest it's hard to do anything these days. it doesn't help that they think you just left me, ghosted me i guess. but they don't know what you do for work and i can't tell them. so i have to listen to them talk shit about you and i sit there trying to convince them you aren't this evil guy who ditched me and never looked back. maybe i should listen, maybe it's easier to believe you just left me than admitting to myself you're no longer here. i'm holding out, i'm trying so fucking hard to, tan. maybe in some sick joke you will pop up on halloween dressed in some stupid costume with a mask covering your face and in some grand reveal you will pull the mask off and i'll be in your arms again. it's wishful thinking. well, i have to go now, i'm meeting with a co-worker. love you.

dec 1st, 2022: i should be waking up this morning with your arms wrapped around me nearly crushing every bone in my body. but i didn't. and i haven't since the beginning of august. is it cruel now to admit i think you are gone. i really think you are and part of me has thought this since i saw the news of the bullet train. i feel scared. i'm starting to forget the little things about you. i can't play back the sound of your laugh in my head. i can't really picture the way your eyes crinkled. it makes me feel ill. i don't want to forget the small details about you. i crave to whisper goodnight and i love you to you. i crave just for your body next to mine. in the most innocent forms i crave you, like the way you'd absentmindedly play with my hair or pull out my chair or charge my phone when i always forget. the simple things i'm missing the most. i didn't realize i had so many forms of love until you've been gone. happy anniversary, dear.

jan 17th, 2023: tangerine, i'm not sure why i opened this email account. it's been over a month since i've checked it. maybe it was because i heard your favorite song earlier and thought of you a bit more than usual these days. i secretly hoped there would be a new message but that's foolish of me.

april 7th, 2023: Dear Tangerine, I know you won't read this email, but I felt as though I needed to explain what life has been like recently. My friends no longer bring you up in conversation which I am grateful for. I had to stop visiting our favorite breakfast place, each time I went they asked about you, even as recently as three weeks ago. I will miss their egg sandwich that you recommended to me on our third date but it is better off I no longer go there. Work has been great, a bit busy, but good. I removed your picture from my desk at the beginning of the new year. I saw the way my co-workers would stare a bit too long at it, I guess seeing it reminded them how I never mentioned you anymore. Speaking of co-workers, a few emails ago I mentioned I was meeting up with one of them. We've been seeing each other a lot outside of work, I enjoy their company. I can never say this to them but when they kiss me and hug me I sometimes think it's you. That's wrong to admit especially since I think I'm developing feelings for them, but they will never see this. They are kind and treat me well which I know you would be pleased to hear. I packed up your clothes in my house and put them in a box. I couldn't keep looking at them. I cried so much that I don't think I can cry again for years to come. I would hug your shirts and jackets so much that they lost your smell. I regret that a bit. I opened the box a few days ago and it smelled like me. Almost all signs of you are gone now that the remnants of your cologne is worn off the fabric. I think I might sell the house. It's too big for a single person now. It's too quiet in here and it almost feels like someone is watching me, it doesn't feel safe. Maybe that's because you provided me with safety. I'm not doing much today, it's actually pretty early right now, maybe I'll cook that dinner I never got to cook for you. I haven't since that day. I'm realizing how silly I sound in my own head as I type these words. Maybe I'll invest in a journal soon.

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x oc #tangerine x you #tangerine imagine #tangerine imagines #tangerine bullet train imagine #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfic #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine bullet train fanfic #tangerine fluff #tangerine angst #tangerine blurb #tangerine headcannon #tangerine oneshot #bullet train imagine #bullet train fanfic #bullet train oneshot #bullet train x reader #bullet train #aaron taylor johnson imagine #aaron taylor johnson x reader #tangerine headcanon #sebsbarnes

[curtsycream]

Baxter Radic Blurb

Finally finished season two of surviving summer and I love Bax’s character. He also deserved better so I’m giving him better. I’m giving him you babes <3

“How about that one?”

Looking down at his hand he looked over the tattoo she was pointing at. The slim reddish pink lollipop tattoo with small font along the white stick. Smiling at her he shook his head, “it’s just something small…I’ve always had it.”

Her eyes narrowed as she shook her head in return. “You didn’t have it before you left Queensland.”

Baxter bit back the chance to tease her for being so observant with his body. He held back as he tried to think about something to say to distract her. Nothing came to mind and he knew she wouldn’t buy into a lie.

“It’s new, got it my first week here,” he finally admitted to her.

The Queensland surfer smiled at him, “I’m loving this honesty streak. I’m guessing that Summer girl really got through to you, huh?”

“It wasn’t Summer,” he mumbled.

She craned her head back to look up at him in her seated position. “Then—then who? Or what? You’ve never been so open before,” she trailed off.

“Maybe, I don’t need to explain myself.”

She frowned grabbing his hand, “don’t do that. You always pull back when things feel tough for you. I’m sick of it, why can’t you just tell me the reason? Are you worried I’ll laugh or something? You know me better than—“

“It’s not that!” He exclaimed looking down at her. Running his free hand through his pink hair he shakes his head. “I know you wouldn’t do that, you’re too nice for that. Too nice for me,” he whispered.

“Don’t say that, you’re an amazing guy Bax…not many are like you. You don’t have to tell me about the tattoo just please don’t shut me out. It’s like ever since you moved to Shorehaven you’ve been reluctant to even message me.”

The way in which she was pouring her heart out to him left a sour taste in his mouth. Sitting beside him was the girl he grew to like quite a lot before having to leave. Tweaking his ear with his fingers he looks anywhere but at her. “I—it’s not your fault. I just thought if I avoided you it would make things easier.”

“Make what easier?”

“The fact that I like you and even if I were to tell you I’d find a way to fuck it up like I do everything else.”

The confession made the air around them feel heavy. It wasn’t like him to openly admit his feelings. But then again he had changed since moving away from Queensland. “Bax. Actually listen to me, I want you to know that what happened wasn’t your fault. You were drunk, we were all raging and someone dared you to do it. What you did wasn’t the reason you all had to leave, you know this. I don’t blame you and neither do the others. You’re a great guy,” she spoke calmly as she still held onto his hand.

Looking at her he let out a sigh, “I know that but it still feels like I had a part to play. Even if it wasn’t my fault I still fucked up. The second I got here I messed things up for my new team. I just think I’m causing myself problems.”

“You only think that because you’re so used to taking the blame. I promise you, you’re not at fault and it may take you a while to believe that. But trust me I’ll never blame you for things I know you didn’t mean to do.”

Leaning forward slightly his forehead rests against hers. His bright blue eyes searching her eyes for a hint of falsity. He found none but still he inquired, “promise?”

Raising his pinky he holds it out for her, keeping her forehead to his she locks hers around his. “I promise.”

Moving away from her he smiles keeping his pinky hooked with hers.

“Oh and Bax, I like you.”

#x reader #fluff #surviving summer #baxter radic #Baxter x reader #bax x reader #Baxter Radic x reader #Baxter Blurb #netflix original

[rey-jake-therapist]

Alana Bloom: revelations and character development

As I'm starting outlining an Hannibal fic focused on Hannibal's past as a university professor (which I very pretentiously call a 'Hannibal prequel' in my mind), I feel like writing a piece on Alana Bloom. She was Hannibal's student so she's got an important part in my plot, even if the professor/student relationship she had with Hannibal then won't be the primary subject. There's just nothing interesting to do with this subject, except for a story of an unsuspecting student pining for her professor. Meh.

But back to Alana: in season 1 and 2, I often didn't like her. She was supposed to be this very smart and skilled psychiatrist, even bragged once about being often right, yet Hannibal played her effortlessly. Alright, he was good, but the fact that she didn't even considered the possibility that Hannibal wasn't who he claimed he was, despite Will's repeated accusations, never sat right with me.

There was a point where I even began wondering what was the point of her: she seemed to be there only for the sake of bickering with everybody and being in a love triangle with Hannibal and Will. She seemed a bit to be the beautiful idiot of the story, even though she was theorically much more than that!

Then season 3 came and it completely changed my perception of her. And it even helped me understand her better, including how she behaved in season 1 and 2. The fact that she fell so hard and fast for Margot, a woman who because of what her brother put her through was at least as 'unstable' as Will was, and finally helped her commit a murder says A LOT about Alana.

She would probably hate to admit it, but I think Hannibal helped her come to terms with the fact that she doesn't want to be with someone 'stable'. In season 1 and 2 Alana believed she was drawn to Will in spite of his issues, and that she dated Hannibal because HE seemed stable. But then why Margot? There's only one explanation for this: Alana fell for Will, for Margot AND even for Hannibal because they were 'unstable'.

Season 3 finally revealed that what seemed like blind naivety in season 2 towards Hannibal was in fact denial, denial of what she really needed. Deep inside I believe Alana always knew there was something wrong with Hannibal, but admitting it would have also involved something about her and she wasn't ready to face that truth. It revealed that she was unstable as well, while she probably spent most of her life pretending she was Miss Perfection, absolutely unproblematic and a paragon of virtue. It was way easier for her to accept the idea that it was Will, the man she rejected because he was too unstable, was the true murderer. She could sleep better at night thinking it was him, than suspecting that the true ripper lay right beside her.

In season 3 we see her come to terms with the fact that it was all... a lie. Alana values life but she's perfectly fine with the idea of taking someone's life if she thinks they had it coming. And I LOVE her for that, because her entire arc is the arc of a complex and interesting character. The glow even shows in her physicality, her general behavior: she seems way more confident, she occupies the space in a way she didn't in the two previous seasons.

Hannibal probably didn't plan this, but he must have been very proud of Alana ;)

#Alana bloom #Hannibal meta #Hannibal nbc #Hannibal lecter #caroline dhavernas #mads mikkelsen

[beary-rambles]

Flowers | The Series | Chapter Ten | Afternoon Tea

Summary | Queen Rhaenrya invites you to have tea with her but your mind is still running wild. the conversations you have today end up being more important to you than you thought.

Pairing | Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

Warnings | not proofread, implied homophobia, implied internalized homophobia, jacaerys-less chapter (sorry next chap will have him promise!)

Word Count | 1.6k

A/n | This update took forever im so sorry for the wait!!

Series Masterlist

‘what is happening?’ you think to yourself a you trail a couple of paces behind the queen.

we're you in trouble? she seems far too happy for you to be in trouble. Maybe she finds delight in punishing people? no she does not seem like the type.

Your mind races as the two of you end up in a private room to where you see a gorgeous arrangement of snacks and a fresh hot pot of tea waiting.

“Sit sit please.”

You two take a seat and a servant rushes over to pour your cups. You sit up straight and tall, your mothers words ringing in the back of your head.

“Relax please i am not here to interogate you.”

You smile but dont relax, what if she was testing you, “Of course my queen.”

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you take a sip of tea. Its rich, must be one of the finest drinks you'll ever put in your mouth.

“So its lady y/n is it?”

“Yes my queen.”

“And you are from the reach?”

“Yes my lady, the soil lands queen.”

She hums with a thought look, “Yes the soil lands, ive never been myself but i've heard it's gorgeous there.”

You smile as you think of your home. “It is my queen. The fields are always full of flowers, though it does rain often but it is beneficial since it leads to easier watering-” You pause as you notice yourself trailing off.

“my apologies my queen.”

she laughs with a fond look, “No no please continue.”

And you two talk for awhile. She continued to ask more and more about your home life to which you are more than happy to answer. Though you try your best today’s conversation with joffery lingers in your mind. It must be showing on your face because she ends up questioning you.

“May i ask you something?”

You tikd your head confused why she would ask as she had been asking you questions this whole time.

“of course my queen?”

“is something bothering you? you seem troubled.”

Would it be wrong of you to admit your troubles to her? You shouldn't. But you cant lie to her what are you supposed to say then? Youre quiet for a moment.

“do you believe one can truly be happy in a loveless marriage?”

She seems taken aback by the question, she opens and closes her mouth like a fish for a moment before she composes herself.

“why do you ask?”

You feel embarrassed as you look down at your hands, “i fear i may find myself in one, i simply wanted to ask i apologize-”

“theres no need too.” she soo’s away the servant in the room who gives her an odd look before leaving.

Rhaenrya readjusted herself and gulps. She looks as though she is thinking over something. “For starters, i do truly hope you shall never find yourself in such a position.”

She frowns slightly, “i do not believe it is possible.” She looks you dead in the eyes, “Even if you two respect and care for each other there will always be that mourning for what you cant have. There will always be that what if, that lingering desire for more. It will never make you truly happy.”

You sigh. Thats not the answer you wanted. But maybe it was the answer you needed to hear. You open your mouth to thank her but the door opens. “apologies for interrupting ladies but you are needed my queen.”

You quicker stand and bow, king consort daemon had a smirk on his face as he greeted you. “I take it you are the infamous lady dunn?”

“Yes my king.”

Rhaenyra moves to stand by his side and smiles at you.

“This was lovely lady y/n. We should do this again.”

You bow, “I thank you for your time my queen. I would be honored.”

They walk to the exit but she turns to you before they walk out, “You should remember what i told you.”

The two walk out, you can almost hear daemon ask what she was talking about to which she doesn't reply.

You're left feeling more confused than you were before. You walk out of the room and roam through the halls. What were you going to do?

Theres only one person who comes to mind who can help you make senses of all this and youre praying hes there waiting for you.

As soon as you open your door you see your father there waiting for you.

He smiles and stands from his place on your bed, “i havent seen you all day, haven't forgotten about your old man just yet have you?”

His smile drops slightly at the look on your face, “Whats wrong pumpkin?”

You move towards him and wrap your arms around him. You sigh as his warmth consumes you. “Take all the time you need pumpkin, your old man will be right here.”

“Joffery has asked me to enter a courtship with him.”

He tenses. “Oh.” He coughs and you pull away from him with a confused look.

“Thats great no?”

He’s looking away from you will a far away look, like he has too much on his mind.

“You do not seem happy father.”

“Of course I am sweet.”

You sigh and sit on the bed, he follows quickly after you and presents you with a fake smile.

“You are the one who seems unhappy my sweet what is it?”

You lean against his shoulder.

“Do you promise not to tell.”

“I promise.”

“He does not find comfort in women.”

You look at him to see his reaction. Your father closes his eyes and sighs.

“you..” You trail off as you watch your father closely, “you do not seem shocked.”

He finally at you with a sad look, you frown and open your mouth to question him but the door to your room opens.

The two of you turn in shock to your mother who closed the door behind her.

“you would not believe the delusion these women live in. That woman had basically called me a peasant how dare she-”

She freezes at the sight of the two of you.

“What happened?”

She and your father share a look. She tenses and your father stands, “give us a moment.”

The two huddle together and seem to be having an argument. Theyre talking too low so you can't her them. You watch them with confusion, what could they be talking about? You almost regret bringing this up.

They both turn to you and your mother rushes to sit next to your and grabs your arm.

“We have something to tell you sweetheart.”

Your father moves over to your other side and sits down.

“What's happening?”

They look at each other once more before your father places his hand ontop of yours making you face him.

“Me and your mother were best friends as children. We were never apart. One day when we were older your mother had confessed her love for me… but…..”

You place your other hand on top of his and squeeze it, “But what?”

“I did not love her like she loved me. And i still do not.”

You gasp in shock. Your parents were the epitome of love to you. They never showed affection like some couples did but they were were so loving with each other. Theyre faces would light up when they see each other. They would have these smiles on their faces that they would show no other. What could they possibly mean?

“What?”

“i do not find love in women either.”

You feel like your head is about to explode. “What?”

“I found out when i was young, actually only a couple days before your mother had confessed to me. I love her but not like a man loves a women. Not like a man should love his wife. She is my best friend. Thats all.”

Your mother nods, “I understood, i did take awhile. He actually had accepted my confession and pretend for a good while but i found him ot quickly. He had been crying like a baby when i confronted him,”

she laughed and he pouted at her, “There was no need to point that out.”

You watch in wonder as the two laugh at each other and playfully shove each other lightly.

“Im sorry you felt like you couldn't share this sooner with me father.”

His smile dropped and he put his hands on your shoulders, “do not blame yourself pumpkin. I am a coward, a coward who wants his daughter to see the best in me.”

“The best of you is the real you father.”

“Youre gonna make an old man cry youre a monster.”

You hit him as he brings a hand up to wipe a tear from his eye.

Your mother grabs your attention and gives you his lecture look, “I wish i could tell you you could end up like us but many are not as luck.”

You fall back onto the bed as your mind is racing.

The queens earlier conversation played in your wmind. She claimed there could be no love in a loveless marriage but you can clearly see your parents were happy. They were happy why couldn't you be?

“You alright sweetheart?”

you parents had laid down at your side, your mother placed a hand on your cheek as you smiled at her.

“I just have a lot on my mind.”

You move to face the ceiling, “I love you guys.”

“we love you more.”

A sharp knock interrupts the sweet moment between you three. Your father shoots up and gives you two confused looks to which your mother shrugs and urgers him to open it.

Who could possibly be here right now?

Your father opens the door and is taken aback.

“Prince Jacaerys?”

---

tags: @floswife @mrsperies @elissanatok @bubblestopia @aemondssiut @abrielletargaryen @parkchaeyoung1997 @cookielovesbook-akie

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd imagine #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys imagine #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x y/n #jacaerys strong #jace x you #jace targaryen #jace x reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys x you #jacerys x reader #jace x y/n #jacaerys fluff #jacaerys fic #jacaerys targaryen x reader

[sweetlyskz]

For Better or For Worse

Chapter Five: The Sun and Moon

Pairing: Poly!Ot7 x reader

Overview: you weren’t thrilled to be moving in with bangtan but you learned to come to terms with it. Your father however did not. When truths come to light and secrets are revealed, will you switch sides or simply exclude yourself from the situation altogether?

Genre: Mafia Au, strangers to lovers, yandere Au, slight angst, a little fluff :3

Warnings: none

Prev||Next

Masterlist

A/n: a short but sweet chapter :) the next one will not be so sweet :/

“Who are you texting?”

You turned your phone off and slid it in your back pocket. “No one”, you told them. You knew if you told them who you were talking to, they would make sure you never leave your bedroom, like a disney princess but with major ptsd. However, no matter what you say, they can read you like a book.

“Don’t lie princess”, Namjoon suggested sternly. “I’m not going to ask again… Who are you texting?” That was it. That was that line that made you short circuit.

“Why is it that I have to tell you every little thing that I do but I don’t get to know anything about you? You all are hypocritical! Asking me what I’m doing, when you leave before I can even wake up and you sit at this table ignoring me!”

“Y/n–”

You cut him off. “Don’t. Don’t fucking act like you care when you obviously don’t. I sit in this house everyday with nothing to do, no one to talk to. At least you guys have each other. Who do I have?”

With that being said, you slammed your fork and knife on the glass table and sped off to your room. You did not want to hear or see the consequences of your actions. Although, you did have a little hope that one, if not all of the boys would come see you. You thought Namjoon would at least apologize. But you got nothing. And that just proved what you knew all along.

They don’t care and you're nothing but a ransom.

When you woke up it was still dark, no sun peeking through the curtains. You look over at the clock on your nightstand.

2:37 am, it read.

You groaned, tossing and turning in your comforter. The house was unusually quiet. You didn’t hear any of the boys, not even a guard. Slowly, you unlocked your bedroom door, not before grabbing the knife from your nightstand. The whole house was dark, a small light in the kitchen was all you could see. When you got there, you saw Jin putting leftovers in the refrigerator.

“Okay, so you aren’t dead”, you deadpanned, turning and heading back to your bed. He lightly grabbed your wrist.

“Wait, can we talk for a second?” He asked, hoping you would say yes. You crossed your arms.

“5 minutes. That’s all I have time for.” He smiled, easing you both over to the couch in the living room. He loved when you tried to be assertive.

It never works but it’s amusing to see you try.

“I just want to apologize. The others– they’re too headstrong to say it but we shouldn’t have holed you up in this house all by yourself. I know we can be distant sometimes… but when you do what we do everyday it seems like some things just aren’t meant for you– does that make sense?”

You shook your head. He chuckled lightly.

“I figured it wouldn’t.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You're like the sun, this big bright ball of positive energy. You see the good in every situation, and you have a kinetic pull, making people around you want to be better”, He explained. “We are like the moon, hiding behind the sun. You're too good for us.”

“That’s… That’s not true”, you hesitated. “That's just another excuse.”

He shook his head. “Why do you think they won’t come and apologize for what happened at dinner? They’re ashamed. It’s easier to stay away than admit we don’t deserve you.”

“But I was raised just like you guys. I was killing in elementary school. How am I any different?”

“Because you don’t let it define you”, Jin tried to reason. “You grew up in this life, yet you graduated, went to college, and got to leave the country. Now, I’m not saying this to be spiteful. Believe it or not we’re all extremely proud of you.”

“Then why bring it up?”

“To show you all of the things that made you you, the you that I’m grateful to have in my life.”

Tears started to run down his cheeks. Seeing him cry all of a sudden made your eyes water.

“Y-you don’t mean that”, you refuted. He gently grabbed both of your hands, wrapping them in his. Then he brought them to his chest, holding them like his life depended on it.

“Don’t worry”, He consoled you. “We work it out. We will make progress. I know we will.”

It sounded like he wasn’t just trying to convince you but himself as well. He repeated it over and over again, sounding a little more uncertain each time. You took your hand away from his, wrapping your arms around his neck instead. He pulled you into his lap, sitting that way for a good minute.

“Jin”, you whispered. “Can I ask you something?”

He patted your head with one hand, the other one running through your hair. “Anything you want, princess.”

“Can we go see my dad, one more time… Just you and me?”

He laughed. “Are you crazy? My job is to protect you, not endanger you.”

“But I need to know why he did what he did”, You whined. “I want to know why he wants me dead and I have to hear it from him.”

He thought about it for a while, the silence making you anxious.

“Let me talk to Joon first, okay? If he says yes then we can go.”

You smiled, getting up from his lap. “I’ll go get him from the study.”

@ratherbefangirling @forpunishers @amara-mars @idk179634 @emu007 @m1sss1mp @mageprincess7 @fluffy-canada-pancakes @inlovewithallmusic @bratbxbyx @kaiwaialiki1210 @queen-in-the-shadows @exfolitae @scuzmunkie @juju-227592

The ones in pink I can’t tag

#kpop #bts #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts x reader #kpop smut #bts smut #kim seokjin #bts series #bts yoongi #kpopidol #rm bts #bts jin #bts ot7 #poly ot7 #poly!bts x reader #bts fic #bts namjoon #bts taehyung #park jimin #min suga #ot7 x reader #ot7 fanfiction #bangtan ot7 #ot7 fluff #mafia au #ot7 fanfic #bangtan #bts angst #bts fluff

[dazaispinkietoe]

Belphie Analysis!!!!

JUST MY OPINION!! NOT EXCUSING HIS ACTIONS OR ANYTHING

Starting with introductions, Belphegor is the last brother we meet. He’s implied in the introduction, with the video having lines of him pleading for help and all, but never specifically stated. All we know is that he’s “In the human world,” according to his brothers. Only Beelzebub seems to be upset by this, while the others accept that they can’t do anything about it because it’s what Lucifer wants. They don’t agree with him, but they know what he says is basically law. They don’t wanna be strung up on the fan by him again (OKAY BUT THAT'S ACTUALLY A SUPER CREATIVE PUNISHMENT?? LIKE??)

Eventually, we got up to the attic. Lucifer tried to keep MC out, but they’re a little shit so of course they get in. When we meet him, he says he’s been locked up. Despite him lying about being human, this is true. Now, we don’t actually know how long the exchange program has been going on. Solomon seems to already have been here a while, as well as the angels. Time doesn’t have as much meaning for them, and they can say with less harm, so I’d assume they’ve already been there for a couple of years. The brothers haven’t spoken to Belphegor since then, and we don’t know if Lucifer even spoke to Belphegor or tried to suck up his pride and explain his actions. Not that Belphegor would forgive him, but it doesn’t seem like Lucifer even went up there to check in on him often. So at this point, he’s desperate. He wants to get out, and likely isn’t thinking clearly from the isolation. When you’re isolated, you’re at greater risk of cognitive decline, depression, and anxiety. All of those can affect your ways of thinking, as well as how you handle situations. 

Eventually, he gets exposed for his lie when Beelzebub reveals what he looks like to MC. When he is confronted about this, he doesn’t try to keep up the lie, realizing it’s pointless. He admits to the MC who he really is. At this point, he leaves it up to them on whether or not they trust him. They have the option not to, and he doesn’t seem to expect them to. So when they come back, he’s surprised. Obviously, Belphegor hates humans. We don’t know that yet in the story, but he blames them for his sister’s death. When he was in Celestia, he introduced his sister to humans. She fell in love with one and when he got sick, she used forbidden methods to save him. This started a war between God himself and the siblings, and ended with Lilith dying in his arms before they fell to the Devildom. When you go through grief, you’re likely to try and find ways to escape from it, blame an outside source, yourself, or to just completely shut down. Because Belphegor is so stable, he did all of those. Even though he used to love humans, he tried hating them because he didn’t want to blame himself. This didn’t work though, because subconsciously he still turned to them for comfort. In lesson 16 on hard mode, we get a story featuring him and his perspective. He imagines life in the human world, seemingly as a form of escapism. He uses escapism as a coping mechanism often, and it’s one of the reasons he sleeps so much. I’m a firm believer that their sins are how the brothers coped with the trauma, but even without that theory, in the anime when he is upset he goes to bed and dreams of a world where what made him upset was different. 

Moving on, he tells MC to make pacts with all of the brothers to get him out of the attic. He tells them to start with Beelzebub first, knowing that he’d be easier to win over. I don’t think that he actually thought that MC could be a danger here, because even though he planned to kill them, he started with the person he cared about most. Even if Beelzebub could be easier to win over than the others, I couldn’t imagine Belphegor putting him in possible danger just because of that. Then, after a lot of plot development, he is let out of the attic. It is not MC that let him out though. Beelzebub and Belphegor take MC to stay with the angels, and I want to note that Belphegor does not attack MC. You could argue he didn’t want to do it in front of Beelzebub, but the second time he doesn’t care if any of the brothers are watching him, so I don’t think that was it. He’s fine with existing in the same room as them, and even talks to them from time to time, before being arrested by Diavolo. (I hate Diavolo for this because I get it, I do, but he did NOT say anything???? Leave him alone?) Then it is revealed that he hates humans. So, Beelzebub and MC go back to The House of Lamentation. There, they confront Lucifer. Here we find out that the argument that led up to him being locked up was about the exchange program. 

Belphegor tries explaining to Lucifer why he didn’t agree with it. Obviously, he didn’t think it was safe, especially because he was still recovering from his sister’s death. But instead of trying to find a common ground with him, Lucifer just says that he wants whatever Diavolo wants. Upset now, Belphegor asks if Lucifer even cares about the brothers or remembers Lilith. Lucifer says no, and Belphegor (obviously not thinking clearly at this point) says that if the program happens, he’ll kill everyone in the human world. At this point he is thrown into the attic and locked away, before the program even started. After talking it through with the brothers, once they hear this information, they decide to go to Diavolo to get Belphegor back. Diavolo agrees, but only if MC can figure out how exactly Belphegor escaped in the first place. When MC finds Belphegor, he’s talking in his sleep. He says Liltih’s name, so I can assume he’s having a nightmare. This is when Belphegor tries to kill MC. But what stands out to me here is that he apologizes. This could be mocking, but this is where something else I had the joy of witnessing comes in. In his UR card, in the A Nightmare, there’s a story called Hide and Seek. The cover of this card is literally him crying, by the way. In this story Belphegor is dreaming, and is playing hide and seek with Lilith. Eventually he cannot find her, and begins questioning if it’s because he’s a bad older brother. Just as he’s about to find her, Lucifer comes in and tells him that she’s dead and Belphegor shouldn’t be looking for her. While we’re on this part of the dream, I’d like to note that this shows how Belphegor views Lucifer as an authoritative figure. As someone who controls and disciplines him, telling him things he doesn’t want to hear. It was not always this way though.

In another card I have, the brothers are playing a game. In the game, Belphegor is constantly seen complimenting Lucifer, and they seem to have an adorable relationship. Asmodeus is even jealous of Belphegor for it, but then the scene cuts into current Belphegor, locked up and talking to MC. He says he hates Lucifer. I feel like after he was locked up, understandably, his trust was shattered. It’s implied his greatest fear is being alone, and Lucifer practically forced that fear onto him. Now, back to the Hide and Seek card, after Belphegor wakes up from this dream, he starts sobbing. MC finds him like this, and tries to comfort him. At this point, Belphegor can’t really hide his emotions or intentions, but isn’t mean to the MC. He asks them to stay with him, and even says he wants to see them and his brothers once he gets out. He seems to genuinely care for the MC. So when he was apologizing, I think he knew that what he was doing was wrong, but couldn’t bring himself to not do it. He’s forced himself to hate humans and lied to himself enough that even though he knows what he’s doing isn’t okay, and people can’t help their species, he hates them enough to try and stick to his beliefs. It’s also mentioned that Belphegor is an extremely proactive person, so once he saw that MC had come into his brothers’ home, he likely wanted to protect them.

Lilith brings MC back to life, telling them to help her brothers. Once they confront Belphegor, they reveal that they are Liltih’s very distant relative (btw this wouldn’t be incest, in Celestia no one is actually related by blood, they are simply created, and Lilith had been dead for hundreds of years b ty then.) While all the brothers rejoice, Belphegor starts breaking down. He talks about how everything is all his fault, and how he feels useless. He lets go of his human grudges, and is seen in the same lesson talking to the MC like normal again. He even sends them a text later, saying that he felt jealous of the time the brothers had with MC, and how he had missed out on it. Belphegor isn’t the type to apologize with words, but apologizes with actions instead, giving himself to the MC as a gift. This is likely because of how his trust was betrayed by Lucifer, but also to ensure MC that he isn’t trying to manipulate them anymore, and instead of forcing himself on them letting them decide what to think.

After MC becomes okay with him, he becomes attached. He asks MC for help often, and tries to assure them that even if they weren’t related to Lilith he would still feel the same as he does now. He expresses jealousy often, uses excuses to hang out with them, etc. But he still holds a bit of resentment. In his special guest dialog, he doesn’t seem to be totally honest with his feelings. He makes it seem like everything MC does is for themselves, and he doesn’t enjoy it, even though his face gives it away. He doesn’t seem to be comfortable with a lot of interactions, which is probably a mix of the isolation and having to change his opinions so suddenly. It’s obvious he tries though, and for how long he’s been like this, he made progress fast. 

When the time comes for MC to leave, Belphegor holds true to the jealousy I mentioned in the paragraph before this. He says he wants to get to know MC more intimately than anyone else, and that if they cannot come to the Devildom themselves, he will have to go to the human world for them. Once again, a big step with the whole human thing. He complains when the rest of the brothers join him in the attic, and when MC leaves to go check in on Lucifer he tells them to be right back. The fact that he was in the attic says a lot about his relationship with the MC too. Because of the time he has spent in there, even though it has unpleasant memories, he finds comfort in the attic and is seen retreating to it when presented with negative emotions. It’s likely that he went up there and napped because he didn’t want to think about MC leaving him. Once they do leave though, he tells MC that he loves them. He’s actually the first person to say this to the MC so far, with everyone else just implying it instead of just saying it bluntly. When Belphegor isn’t trying to get his way, he seems to just say things as he sees them. He doesn’t like fake people. This, besides the controlling Lucifer thing and acting without thinking, is probably the main reason he dislikes Diavolo. Diavolo has a tendency to act kind to everyone, even if he might not like them, like Belphegor. Belphegor probably sees this as a threat or something to notice about him. 

Moving more outside the story though, Belphegor’s fear of the MC leaving him is one of the most noticeable things about him. People seem to think that this makes him ‘yandere’ or whatever they want to call it, but that’s just…not how it is? In multiple events, he mentions that he wants to combine with the MC or have all of them, and in songs he talks about never wanting to let go of MC, one of the lines literally being that. (I think that was in the Christmas song? I pointed it out when I first listened to it.) He’s also seen actively wanting to care for MC. In a card where MC gets sick, he cares for them, neglecting his own care, only to end up getting sick himself. But he doesn’t try to push anything onto the MC, or force them to be with him, like other people think he does. Another thing I noticed was that in the anime, his brothers treat him like a child, but also like a ticking time bomb. In the episodes he’s in, he’s shown being treated like a baby, which is understandable because he’s the youngest, but even after Lucifer puts him in charge, the brothers still dismiss him. They also treat him more carefully than Satan, who is literally the avatar of wrath. In both the canon story and anime, they treat him awkwardly when MC is not around. This leads to him breaking down and talking about how he can’t understand them, and how he knows they can’t understand him, but they should just say it. This makes me believe that a part of the reason Belphegor doesn’t engage in conversation much is because he finds it hard to understand others and therefore doesn’t know how to reply, or not being able to understand them makes him upset at himself.

Belphegor is also seen getting irritated often. Mostly at others. In an event he states that he doesn’t actually think he’s smart, and that anyone could do the things he does. He’s pretty insecure about this fact too. So I think that when people don’t come to a solution right away, he gets frustrated. There’s a possibility he also does this with himself, or holds himself to a high standard. In a chat with him talking about something with Beelzebub, he seems to feel guilty easily, and tries to make it right. This probably goes along with the fact that he doesn’t think demons should make mistakes often, he doesn’t allow himself room to make errors, but also lacks the motivation to try. He’s a lazy perfectionist, and while it actually works out for him, all the stress he puts on himself doesn’t exactly help him. He also doesn’t know how to deal with his own emotions, having frequent outbursts and locking himself away when presented with negative ones. It reminded me of how when Satan would get angry, they would chain him to his bed. Understandable based on how he would be aggression wise, but the brothers could have taught him how to deal with his emotions better. I think something similar happened with Belphegor, not being taught what to do with his emotions. And when he did express anger to someone else (Lucifer) he was locked away, so he probably thinks that isolation is the right, if not only thing he can do.

That’s all I’ve got for now though!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BELPHEGOR I LOVE YOU SO MUCH HEHEHEHEHEHE

Toodles >_<

#obey me belphegor #om! belphegor #obey me #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #om! belphie

[bookofmirth]

I was thinking about when Lucien tells Feyre that she was a better friend to him than she was to her, and how we as readers have reacted to that line over the years, and had a few thoughts.

The main thing is that characters can and will do/say things that they believe to be true, that we know are not actually true. The characters may also know that they are untrue, but don't want to admit. We lie to ourselves all the time, and characters do too. It may not even be the case that sjm wants *us* to believe that Lucien is speaking the truth. The important thing is that, in that moment, Lucien believes that he is speaking the truth.

We should not confuse what the characters are saying with what the author is saying. An author is NOT their characters. A character can and will say/do things that an author does not agree with, and may not even like. A character saying/doing something is NOT an endorsement of saying/doing that thing by the author. (This can be easier to understand when you read poetry - though there has been an increase in confessional poetry in the past few decades which is largely autobiographical, the narrator of a poem is NOT necessarily the same as the author of a poem.)

This isn't to say that Feyre is being an unreliable narrator; we have Lucien's literal words that he spoke to her, there was no reflection on those words by Feyre that tells us what she thinks of them, and she would have no reason to lie. As a fandom, I wish we could stop getting so hung up on the idea of unreliable narrators and differing character perspectives as a means to argue that one character is "more right" than another, or that we get "the truth" when we view from a specific character's eyes. That's... not how it works. There is no such thing as an objective way of viewing pretty much anything. Everything relies on perspective. We all hear/read things and those things get filtered through the giant pasta strainer of our upbringing, our beliefs, our values, our professions, our hobbies, etc. SJM has never been an author to use unreliable narration, but she does use differing perspectives. If she didn't, then every single character would seem like the same person. It's 10000% normal for us to understand characters and events differently when we hear about them from another character.

So back to my main point, I think that we can read this as Lucien genuinely believing this statement to be true - that he truly thinks that Feyre was a better friend to him if we consider his context.

Lucien has no real home with stability. He was banished from Autumn, he is estranged from his brothers, he cannot be there to protect his mother, his role in Spring has some importance but is reliant on the goodwill of someone who is, frankly, increasingly unstable. Lucien likely feels very indebted to Tamlin, and now that Feyre is Tamlin's bride/ex-fiancée, to her. There is also the role that she played UtM in trying to help Lucien. In other words, thanks to Beron being an asshole, Lucien relies on other people's goodwill for his basic survival. (This is why, later on, he would rather stay with the BoE. He isn't beholden to them in the same way that he would be to Rhys, yet another person taking pity on Lucien's dépaysement.)

In retrospect, Lucien feels guilt for not having done more when Feyre was suffering in acomaf. It's easier for him to see how she was suffering because he was suffering in an adjacent manner. In the beginning of acomaf, Feyre was making excuses for Tamlin, trying to be patient, to wait out his anger and grief at what happened UtM. Lucien was doing the exact same thing, but it took him longer to recognize how toxic it was because Lucien, unlike Feyre, didn't have the advantage of someone literally swooping in to take him away and give him perspective. He got there, though, when Tamlin starts working with Hybern and especially after he sees Feyre back in Spring, which leads me to my next point.

Lucien is clearly wary of Feyre's lies while she is in the Night Court. He suspects that she is pretending to be in love with Tamlin, pretending to be loyal to the Spring Court. This reinforces his understanding of just how toxic Spring has become, the fact that Feyre saw it, understood, and acted before he did. So tying these issues together - Lucien's exile, his reliance on other people for stability, his dawning understanding that Feyre recognized the situation for what it was before he did, that he has ended up in this situation where his mate is now at risk - and Lucien feels a whole lot of "if only I had..." And he now sees Feyre as someone who saw the situation for what it was before he did, and acted accordingly. But we as the reader know why that was harder for Lucien.

So going back to my point about Lucien believing this is all true, we know that it's not, and that's a normal part of being a reader. Lucien makes that statement after telling Feyre about Ianthe and Calanmai; we know that not long after, right after she tells Lucien that she wishes she could have stopped his assault, she nearly - knowingly - allows it to happen again. Lucien's words and Feyre's actions don't align, and there is nothing in the narrative that tells us that her actions are okay.

(A related rant, but characters don't need to be punished for us to understand if their actions are morally okay or not. We are smart people, we can tell that for ourselves. It may be annoying to us if they aren't punished, but that's another idea that has pervaded book spaces - that if problematic action isn't punished or portrayed negatively, then the author must think it's okay. No, maybe the author trusts us to know what's right and what's not, and doesn't feel the need to beat us over the head with it because books do not have to be moral, didactic tools.)

SJM could have written it so that Feyre didn't hesitate to help Lucien. She could have written it so that Feyre didn't intentionally try to put Lucien in the path of Tamlin's anger. She could have written Feyre to be a saint, but she didn't, and just because another character views Feyre's actions favorably doesn't mean that we have to, because we have the benefit of knowing that sometimes, people lie to themselves and/or say things they don't truly mean or believe. And furthermore, just because one character views Feyre's actions favorably, doesn't mean that SJM does. Remember - the characters =/= the author. SJM doesn't actually believe or agree with everything the characters say and do. She doesn't have to agree with anything they say or do.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

#lucien vanserra #acowar #acotar #my meta #feyre archeron #feyre #lucien #leslie rereads acotar #literally couldn't think of a better way to describe lucien's home feelings right now #than depaysement so..... #it's one of those words that's hard to translate #but it fits his situation #and puts the emphasis on his feelings #rather than his circumstances #i am nothing if not pretentious #honestly this all feels like a lot of explanation #for this one line #when really it should be pretty simple #but given the way that people talk about perspective and the role of the author #things needed clarification #because they aren't discussed accurately at this moment on the internet

[sehunniepotwrites]

(it’s nice) to have a friend | two

SYNOPSIS. Best friends since childhood just don’t become lovers overnight. Sometimes, there are speed bumps along the way. One is that you are secretly in love with Jeno who is smitten with someone else, more specifically, your pretty roommate. And the other is that he asked you to be his fake girlfriend in order to gain your roommate’s attention. No other sane person would say yes to a situation like this but then again, you weren’t sane, to begin with. In situations like this, you wonder how much of a fool you were with going through this plan. In situations like this, Lee Jeno thinks it’s quite nice to have a friend like you.

PAIRING. best friend!Lee Jeno x female!reader GENRE. College!AU | Fake Dating!AU | Childhood Friends-to-Lovers!AU | Idiots-to-Lovers!AU | Slight Angst | Fluff WARNINGS. mentions of food and drinks (none consumed); profanity; namecalling (nicknames and bantering); beach setting; they share a bed and nothing happens lmao WORD COUNT. 2k+

heartbreak prince | you are in love | cruel summer | how you get the girl

What defines a regular day? 

To you, a regular day means a day spent with your best friend from childhood/current fake boyfriend, Lee Jeno. 

Emphasis on the word ‘fake’ as in he does not truly belong to you in the way you do not belong to him. As in every date you go on, every kiss you share, and any other intimate moment viewed in the eyes of others is an act that you wish to be real. Meaning that you love Jeno in a way that is far beyond his platonic feelings for you. You love him in the way you want to be loved and with every minute that passes, you break your own heart a little more than the minute before.

With that being said, it’s another regular day for you. 

Your aching back—tired from carrying the weight of your laptop, textbooks, and the world on your shoulders—is pressed against your extra-large twin mattress. Jeno is right next to you in a similar position. Both pairs of eyes are gazing up at the ceiling of your humble dorm room that is littered with cheap glow-in-the-dark stars and fairy lights that are impossible to hang. 

His body is so close to yours as your shoulders touch and his pinky grazes against the side of your hand. There is no apparent reason for Jeno to be so near; no one else is in the room. You have the space to yourselves and there is a chance to call off the act for the day but he doesn’t. He keeps the smallest distance between your bodies and Jeno doesn’t mind. Maybe it’s because he believes that’s what best friends do: invade each other’s personal bubbles because it’s been years since he had first stepped into yours. 

Whatever the reason is, the moment feels intimate as if it is yours and his alone. A desperate desire to savor this sense of serenity with him appears. You want to remember this place in time when you have Lee Jeno’s full attention before his real object of affection, Ara, steals it all away.

There are two questions you ask yourself. Out of all the people in the world, why did you have to fall for Lee Jeno? And out of all the people in the world, why did Lee Jeno have to fall for Choi Ara?

“Hey,” Jeno calls as he nudges your ticklish side. He turns over on his side to face you as you wiggle away from touch. His gaze is on your person and it takes every fiber in your being not to freeze in place like a statue. The way his eyes slowly travel across the curves of your body does something to your heart that you’d hate to admit. Oh, how you want this torture of crushing on him to cease. It would make life so much easier for you. But life always finds a way to make it difficult.

“What?” 

He frowns at your attitude, “Don’t say ‘what’ like that, damn. You sound like you don’t want to talk to me.”

Your eyes roll. “Sensitive soul.”

“I’m a cinnamon roll. People adore me.”

“I wonder why.” A flat-out lie; that’s what that statement is. Sadly and unfortunately, you are one of those adoring fans but you are a level up from them. Why? You love him more than time can even tell. “What’s up?”

Jeno pauses for a couple of seconds before posing a question. “Have you ever been in love? Like, have you ever actually fallen for someone before?” 

You hold back the need to laugh at the ridiculousness. Just moments ago, you were questioning why your heart felt the need to fall for him. And now, he has the audacity to ask if you had ever been in love. 

The whole situation is stupid, you tell yourself. It’s stupid and complicated and you honestly don’t know how to formulate your answer. Yes, you’ve been in love. You’re currently in love with the very person asking you the damn question while he is fawning over another that is not you. In your closed-off mind, you secretly dub yourselves two idiots in love. 

“Why are you asking?” you try to deflect the question. 

Jeno gives you a knowing look, “Well, why aren’t you answering?” 

Shit. He caught you. You sigh before saying, “Yeah, sadly.”

“Sadly?”

“Yes, sadly,” you snap, not wanting to expand. There goes that attitude again.

Jeno’s dark brown eyes widen with curiosity and a hint of hurt. Being your best friend for years, he thinks you would share these kinds of things with him. He wonders if he ever did anything to turn you off from allocating this information. Do you not trust him enough?  “Do I know this person?”

“I'm not telling you, idiot,” you spit back. 

Jeno tries to pull that puppy dog look that always gets you but this time, you won’t let it break you down. His feigned look of innocence cannot fool you forever. You refuse to spill your secret. You refuse to let go and reveal what you’ve kept hidden deep in the crevices of your breaking heart. As long as your feelings for him aren’t out in the world, you can still keep your place in Jeno’s strong arms. 

Even if it’s not real. Even if it’s just pretending. Even if one day, it will all come to an end.

Mark, a mutual friend you and Jeno share, is the only one who knows the whole truth. The boy may be older than you by a year but he is your confidant. The secret of your heart is safe in his hands. Wise beyond his years and overly articulate, Mark always asks you why you don’t come clean. You always reply with a shrug and that’s that. 

But as perceptive as he is, Mark knows the truth: you fear the unknown. You fear not having Jeno, your constant since you were young and naive, by your side. To you, dating Jeno in this shroud of pretense is better than not having Lee Jeno at all. 

“Okay, fine. Be that way,” Jeno pouts. “But...”

“But what?”

“What does it feel like?” Jeno sounds unsure of himself as he poses this question as if he is second-guessing his own feelings for Ara. There’s that sense of confusion in his voice but you don’t dawdle in that thought. It could lead to a whole train of wishful thinking your brain does not need to explore. That train, long as it may be, has left the station years ago. 

Knowing Jeno wouldn’t judge you or any of your emotions, you have no choice but to answer him. The sigh you let out does nothing to relieve the pain you feel. Neither does the sensation of his hand grabbing hold of yours. Instead, it only increases your unsteady heart rate. You feel the muscle pounding against your chest, fighting for an escape. You hear it in your ears, deafening any other sound fighting through. When Jeno’s head drops back down and nuzzles into the junction of your shoulder, you wonder if he can hear your crazy pulse too. 

If he didn’t hear your rapid pulsating, Jeno certainly feels it after you place his hand over your heart. “This is what it feels like, Jen. It feels”—it’s going even faster now and Jeno gasps not at the placement of his hand but at the speed of your heart—“like this at times.”

“Really now?” Jeno asks. 

He draws his hand away for his palm lingered at that one spot for a second too long once he felt your grip falter. Your best friend doesn’t want to keep it any longer than you want it there. After all, in his mind, your heart isn’t his to hold. You just admitted to liking another—he has to honor and respect your feelings for that person no matter how close you were. Jeno knows you, his most faithful friend would do the same for him. 

“Other times, it’s calmer. Serene. At ease.” When you try to formulate words, your brain fails to work. It’s like an error message is blaring in your brain, alerting you to turn back now before it’s too late. But you ignore it and stall until the words come to you. Until your train of memories stops at the moment you truly dived head-over-heels for Jeno in the first place. “Actually, it feels like a lot of things all at once.”

Your feelings for him surfaced while you were at a beach two years ago. The two of you admired the golden hour before the time came for the sun to set. This was something you did often as kids but it was the first time you had done it by yourselves. Everything was already prepared, the routine of it all embedded in your brain. You grabbed the food and drinks while Jeno grabbed the beach mats and chairs. 

As the sun descended and allowed the moon to take its place in the sky, you admired Jeno from your spot on the mat. He was seated on the foldable chair slightly in front of you, eyes cast forward. The soft and warm colors of daylight painted his skin, highlighting his striking beauty. You felt your heart race and your face flush with heat as your gaze locked on his figure. He glowed and like all things beautiful, he attracted attention.

Jeno, too absorbed in the sight in front of him, never noticed your lingering stare. He stretched his arms out into the air, his veins protruding as he flexed, and shook his damp head of hair with a smile. “I’ll never get tired of this view. Will you?”

“No,” you answered, still looking at him. “I don’t think I ever will.”

Although there were butterflies and the heat rushing through your body, there was also a sense of peacefulness when you looked at Jeno. Just having him at your side, you felt at ease as if nothing could ever go wrong as long as you were with him. 

In that moment and every moment after, Lee Jeno felt like home so with him your heart remained.

And when he finally turned to you, he flashed the widest grin ever and that’s when you figured it all out. It was so obvious. It took over the silence that surrounded you on the car ride home from the beach. It weaved through the spaces you both occupied together and the empty spot Jeno would always leave behind. Even in the darkness, you saw it crystal clear. 

You are in love. 

You love him. You love Lee Jeno. It’s as simple as that.

In the present, you open your eyes and shift ever so slightly in your bed to face him. “It feels easy, I guess, not as difficult as other things,” you say with a fond smile, “but mostly, falling in love feels like coming home.”

Jeno looks in your eyes and sees the way they sparkle as you talk about love. He has never seen you look that way before, so pretty and at peace with yourself. The thoughts floated around in his head. Were you looking back at a memory or thinking of someone he didn’t know about? Casting aside the betrayal lingering in his chest, Jeno needs to know more. He wonders if the person you love is deserving of something as precious as your heart. There is no one he met that has come close to deserving, Jeno thinks as he weeds through the people you could harbor feelings for. 

Even he isn’t deserving of your love—friendly, platonic love, of course, because why would it be anything but that? 

“Are you still in love with them?” Jeno asks, his brown eyes searching for your own. Another sting of pain hits him after the question leaves his lips. He can’t figure out why. 

Your soft smile flips into a bitter one, with furrowed brows and wrinkles around your eyes. He can see the shift of pain his question brings and think that maybe he said something wrong. 

“I am,” you answer truthfully as you look straight into the eyes of your love, “I guess I am.”

Even after all these years, you are in love with Lee Jeno. How pathetic is that?

> back to the masterlist

AUTHOR’S NOTE. hello!!! to celebrate my first day of grad school here’s a surprise drop: part two!!! again this is a rewrite of one of my old timestamps <3

TAGLIST. @keemburley @johtenrecs @emmybyeakitty @sokkigarden @bat-shark-repellant @ppangjae @loeycity @suhnnyskiess @taeyongslilkitty @ferxanda @lebrookestore @infnteen @moonchele @ankathi-a​ @neowritingsnet​ @czennienet​

© sehunniepotwrites, 2022 — all rights reserved. reposting, editing/modifying, translating of any piece of work (fic, original writing) posted on this blog is not allowed. 

#ankathia #neowritingsnet #cznnet #jeno scenarios #jeno x reader #jeno imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct dream x reader

[blossom-hwa]

tyun dragon au pls B)

I died this is ur fault fuck you chip <3

summertime drabble fest: send me an idol from the list (Stray Kids, Ateez, TXT, Seventeen) + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

REQUESTS CLOSED!

~

Title: Glass on the Ice and the Wind

Pairing: Taehyun x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Genre: fluff, dragon!au, mc is a glassblower

Warnings: n/a

~

When you return to your hometown, you don't tell anyone of your journey. 

Well, in ways, of course, you do. You must. People knew where you were going, knew the treasure that you sought—they knew you meant to find the rare dragon sands lost to legend hundreds of years ago or more. It would not have made sense if you'd come back, shimmering sand in tow, ready to be blown into the finest glass the world has ever known, and had no adventure in finding it. 

So you evade. Tell them bits and pieces, blather about the unimportant things—the price of supplies in surrounding villages, how green the forest leaves glinted under sunlight, the way the white sands of the beaches you crossed glowed in the pale of the moon. You tell them about towns they know, about some they do not know, and you tell them, of course, that you had a guide. 

"I would not have found the sands if not for him," you admit readily. "My journey would have been for naught, had I not found him first."

And so, there are questions about your guide that follow. Who was he, what was his name, how did he know the way to the dragon sands and why did he not come back with you? 

To all this you laugh, and smile, and give blithe answers away as though there is nothing to hide. A simple traveler of the winds, who gave you a name you could not pronounce (which is true—it was simply not the only name he gave). The path to the sands is one his family has known for generations. He would not have come, though you asked once. He has his own home on the winds, traveling where his fancy guides him—to the snow, to the sands, to the water, the trees. 

And all of this is true. None of it is a lie. Much easier to tell them this than, say, tell them that your guide was a dragon.

It's not as if they'd believe you, anyway. Dragons have been the stuff of legend for millennia—even more so than the sands you found, and the shimmering glass they make. No one believes they exist. You wouldn't have, if you had not met one yourself. Which is why you neglect to tell them this one detail, even though it forms the core of one man whom you've grown to care for deeply. 

Taehyun. You remember him every moment in your forge, with every bead of sweat that drips down your face. The fire in his eyes follows you in the flames that flicker and leap in your fireplace, the warmth of his laugh etched into every glass sculpture you create. You see him, the dragon you found and helped nurse back to health—you see him everywhere you go, though he has never once been here. 

On a dark night, the moon shining full in the sky, you find it in yourself to finally admit it, then. That you fell in love with a dragon. And that though you understand why he couldn't come with you—the same reason you couldn't stay with him—it still hurts to know that there could be nothing more of it.

It's not fair. Which is obvious—life isn't fair—but on nights like these where you miss Taehyun so much it feels like your breath is gone, you almost wish you hadn't gone on your search for the dragon sands. Almost is the key word, almost—because you know in your heart you never could have regretted meeting Taehyun, meeting a dragon and learning legends long lost to humans as you helped him in the ways you could to recover from the curse that had tried to eat away his soul. But if you'd never met him, never heard his voice, never saw his dark eyes under the light of the moon...

If you hadn't known what you were missing, at least you'd never have to mourn it.

But that sort of thinking isn't fair—not to Taehyun, and not to yourself. Which is why, in the morning, you go back to work as usual, and continue to find small comfort in your dragon's warmth everywhere you look. 

Until one morning under a cold, blue sky, when the wind blows so strongly that you crave the blazing heat of your forge as soon as you've forced yourself to climb out of bed. 

It was a day like this when you met the dragon who used to ride on the winds—no ice and snow, not just yet, but gales whipping you to and fro until you sought shelter in what you thought was an unoccupied cave. You smile a little at the memory, laughing at your fear when you realized the cave was not, in fact, unoccupied, and when you enter your forge the cold melts away and you get to work, toasty warm and safe from the chill. You haven't even been in there half an hour, though, before someone comes pounding at your door. 

"Y/N!" A pink-cheeked, breathless Huening Kai stands before you when you step outside. "Someone in the square is looking for you!"

"Looking for me?" You frown, trying to recall if you're expecting any guests. None that you can remember—it's getting too cold for travel, anyone who would have visited would have come in the warmer months. "Did they specifically ask for me? What was their name?"

"He didn't give a name, but he says he seeks the artisan who shaped dragon glass." Kai's eyes sparkle with interest, which is all that keeps you from shutting the door—too often, since you sold the first shimmering piece of glassware that sparkled like the first sun on snow after a blizzard, have you been besieged by those wanting to buy your little shop or try to pry the secret of the dragon sands from your lips. "He's not like the others, Y/N. He said you would know him."

Your frown deepens. Who would you know—

Oh. 

Oh.

You blink rapidly once, twice. Even with the chill of the air, something begins to warm in your stomach, in your chest—a reckless hope that grows against your will the longer you look at Kai. Because it can’t be him. There’s no way. 

And yet—

"You said he's in the square?"

You’ve thrown yourself into the cold wind almost before Kai has given you an answer.

The walk to the square is a short one, barely five minutes on a good day. In weather like this it's usually empty, and for good reason—you certainly wouldn't choose to if you didn't have to. But today, there are more people milling about than usual, fighting the sharp wind to gain a glimpse of—

Him. 

Wrapped in brown furs tinged with the slightest red, ice-pale streaks running through his dark, dark hair. Warm skin that almost seems to glow, and large eyes that catch yours where you stand at the edge of the square, knees turned to water and arms to jelly. He's dressed so plainly, just the way you would be if you'd thought to put on a coat to ward against the wind, but somehow, still, he wears those ragged furs like a prince.

Taehyun. The dragon you met, the dragon you loved—in his human form, now, in a place you never thought you'd see him.

You're not sure who moves first. In the end, though, it doesn't really matter. You meet, somehow, and then it's just you in his arms and him in yours, his inner warmth seeping into your skin, sheltering you against the chill the way he always did. 

"You're here." You realize you're tearing up the moment you speak, embarrassment and emotion clogging your throat. "Why are you here?"

He laughs, and the sound reverbs through your chest—comforting, like the soft gusts of wind that had followed his laughter when you tried to cheer him as he healed in his dark cave. "Why aren't you wearing a coat?" he asks in turn, all the warmth of his love in his eyes as he repeats a question he asked you so many moons ago. His arms pull you closer than you ever thought possible as your hand rises to touch his shoulder, his chin, his cheek, eyes searching his throat where you know there are scattered scales of icy blue hiding behind the furs covering his skin. 

You snort wetly, wiping the tears from your face. "Answer me first."

"As you wish." He smiles, and you realize then how much you missed this—how, in the end, you wouldn't have been able to bear the distance from your love, your dragon—how you'd have set out to find him again at least once before you died. The flames that dance in his eyes burn so steadily, rooting you to the here, the now, even as the winds that gust around you threaten to blow you away. "I told you before that I go where the winds blow."

A kiss to your forehead, another to your nose. Feather light, butterfly soft, and then he presses his lips to yours. 

You're there for seconds. You're there for an eternity. You're there as the sun rises and sets, the winds howling past—you're there, here, steady against the earth, steady as the fire banked in Taehyun's soul, whose warmth he has shared with you. 

When you break away, his eyes are soft, softer than they've ever been. And as you cup his cheek in your palm, brushing away a tear that has just begun to trickle down his skin, he speaks once more. "I go where the winds blow," he says again, words so quiet yet so warm against the icy cold. "This time, they brought me to you."

#txt #tomorrow x together #tomorrow by together #txt taehyun #taehyun #kang taehyun #taehyun x reader #taehyun imagines #taehyun scenarios #txt scenarios #tomorrow x together scenarios #taehyun oneshots #taehyun fanfic #txt fanfic #txt oneshots #txt taehyun x reader #txt x reader #kang taehyun x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #fluff #drabble #dragon!au #glass on the ice and the wind #summertime drabble fest #blossom-hwa #lina answers #chip 🍪