#not even taemin is safe this is so sick..

[spohkh]

231210

[spacequokka]

For Me | Day 5

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader Genre: Fluff Rating: G Summary: Baekhyun invites you over for a Christmas movie marathon. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: established relationship

Here's a fluffy drabble set sometime after part two.

Baekhyun was the kind of guy who got hyped up for holidays. He always went all out for Christmas. Competing with his neighbors for the highest light bill generated by the decorative mass of lights and lawn decorations was his newest hobby. His apartment was no exception. The interior would make Martha Stewart proud with the copious amounts of garland, candy canes, and holly adorning every surface. The man was a menace, right down to his meticulously wrapped presents and perfectly hung mistletoe.

You knocked on the door, and it swung open instantly. Baekhyun greeted you with a bright smile on his face. He was wearing a red and green flannel, a Santa hat perched on his head, and had even drawn a fake white beard on with eyeliner. "_____! You made it!" he exclaimed and pulled you into a warm hug.

“If I missed this, you'd come find me and drag me back here," you replied, engulfed with the mixed scent of cinnamon and pine as it wafted through the door.

"Of course, it wouldn't be a Christmas movie marathon without you," Baekhyun chuckled, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

"Not true. You could snatch Taemin and never notice the difference."

"Please. He doesn't get why I watch the same movies every year." He stepped back and gestured for you to come inside, revealing his apartment transformed into a cozy haven of holiday delights.

"True, but I wouldn't say I entirely understand it, either." You shrugged. "I just like seeing that little giddy smile you get. It's cute as hell." Baekhyun blushed at your compliment, the warmth of the room seeming to intensify as his gaze met yours. "Besides, they're not bad movies, and I like free food."

"Well," He took your coat and traded your shoes for fuzzy slippers that matched his, "there's no shortage of food this year. I managed to get that chicken place we like to give me a catering discount."

"Catering? For just two people?" You looked at him then over his shoulder towards the kitchen. The buffet he'd set up looked like it could feed a football team. "You're gonna get sick from eating too much, watch."

"Nooo," he whined, throwing his arms around you again. "You're here to help too! Whatever's leftover will feed me for the rest of the week."

"As long as you're not trying to overfeed me." You led the way to the couch and plopped down. "So, what are we starting off with? Comedy? Horror? Hallmark?"

He settled down beside you with two mugs of hot chocolate. "I was thinking classics. How about Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer? I saw the DVD in store and got hit with nostalgia."

"Ooh! I love those. They have an old-school charm to them, like Charlie Brown era stuff."

"See? You get me! That's why you're my baby." He pulled you close and kissed all over your cheek. "Okay, okay. So I made the cocoa when I got your text, so it should be safe to drink. If you get hungry before this one's over, we can pause and load up."

You nodded. "Gotcha. Until then," you put your legs over his and cuddled into him, "I just wanna get warm."

"Oh, I'm great at that." He pressed his face into your neck, lips tickling your skin. "Just some touches and kisses and you'll be on fire."

"Oh my gawd, you goober. Stawp!" You giggled, weakly pushing at his head and hands until he pulled away. The loud fanfare of the movie drew his attention away, allowing you both to settle down. Moments like these were the best. Just being held in his arms, being the most important part of his cute little tradition, were the moments you lived for.

Neither of you spoke much during the movie until his stomach growled loudly. His face scrunched up, and he paused the movie, looking at you with puppy eyes. "Babe—"

"Time to hit up your buffet?" You suggested with a teasing smile. He nipped at your neck again, then nodded.

"Please?" His voice was muffled, making you laugh out at his silliness.

"Come on. Let's see what you got."

As he unwrapped and unboxed the feast he'd ordered, you regretted eating anything at all that day. The spread was enough to give Thanksgiving a run for its money. "Stop looking at me like that! It's not that much food."

"My love, not that much for who? Are you inviting more people over?"

He shook his head. "Nope. This is all for you—well, us—but I didn't want you to need to leave or order anything. I have a case of wine, desserts, even that honey bun you said you liked from the donut shop."

You mulled his words over. "Wait, how long am I staying?"

His eyes sparkled. "As long as you want to. You said you had a few days off and we've both been caught up with work…"

You put a hand over your chest, then pulled him in for another quick hug. "Jesus Christ. Every time I think I've seen you at peak cuteness, you raise the bar. My heart can't take this if you keep maxing out the adorable boyfriend on me."

He bit his lip, and for a second, you could tell he was lost in thought. "…Boyfriend."

You side-eyed him. "Yes." A Byun in deep thought could be a troublemaker if left to his own devices. "A boyfriend I love and adore very much."

He nodded and luckily left it at that, pulling out plates and forks for you while you picked up the pretty festive wine glasses he'd put out for the occasion. Soon enough, you both were back on the couch with your food and drinks, continuing the movie. When that one went off, he let you pick the next movie, so you opted for your favorite, The Nightmare Before Christmas.

"You know," you said in between bites of the crispy, fried chicken he went "to the ends of the world" to get, "their relationship reminds me of how ours started out. I'm really thankful we had the chance to change things."

He watched you for a bit, then nodded. "Me too. More than words can express." He picked up his cup for a swig of wine. "But I'd like to change things again."

You looked at him, eyes wide. "In what way?"

He put down his plate and wiped his fingers on a napkin, prompting you to do the same. Whatever he was about to say had to be serious. "Well," he rubbed his hands together, the movie quickly forgotten as it continued playing, "I bought this townhouse with the intention of you moving in with me at some point."

You nodded. "Yeah, that's why you insisted I tag along for the viewing."

He turned toward you. "We never really set a date for that, y'know? And with Christmas coming up, it feels like there's no better time than the present."

You couldn't help but smile. "Is this your way of asking me to move in?"

"I mean, I think I could do better, but--" You cut him off with a kiss before throwing your arms around him.

"Nah, I like this. It's all cute and flustered and you." You kissed his cheek before sighing. "You're lucky I've been thinking about it too, with me missing you so much. I realized I wouldn't have to miss you if I could wake up and go to bed with you. So, I may have been packing already."

"You're serious?" He pulled back to look at you. "Please, don't joke about this. I don't think my heart could take it."

You shook your head, smile growing wider. "I pretty much just need to hire a moving service and figure out what to do with the furniture I don't need to keep."

"I love you so much," he bear-hugged you, peppering your face with kisses. "Just hearing that makes me feel better. This will be the best Christmas I’ve ever had."

[darl-ingfics]

Hello! So excited to see a K-pop sickfic page with love for older groups!!!

May I request of you a shinee fic for Key or Taemin (no preference tbh) but with something snz related if you would mind 😊

Thank you! Love your posts 🫶

Oh boy!!! So happy to have another older group lover here, and it was so fun to write this for you, if you can't tell from the word count. I decided to just include both Key and Taemin cause why not? Sincerely hope you enjoy!!!

Finish Your Glass of Whine

Fandom: SHINee

Sickie: Key/Kibum, Taemin

Caregiver(s): Onew/Jinki

Word Count: 2,102

Notes: Title comes from Dua Lipa's "Blow Your Mind (Mwah)." It just feels like it fits, because there is a fever-induced, stream-of-consciousness rant section towards the ends.

Kibum did not feel good, and that a tragic reality he was struggling to deal with. When Taemin had called him crying two days ago, sick as a dog and unable to get ahold of his mom or Jinki, he hadn’t expected to end up just as ill in less than 48 hours. He’d been so safe about it too: always masked up, constantly cleaning things, drinking extra water. The one thing he was refusing to acknowledge, however, was how Taemin basically clung to him the entire time so all of those precautions were null and void. But what was he supposed to do? 

So here they were, confined to Taemin’s apartment, wasting away together.

When Kibum had woken up on the couch an hour ago, coughing like his life depended on it, unable to sit up at first because his legs were tangled with Taemin’s, he’d seriously considered crying. He wanted to just snap his fingers and be well again. No more fever, no more coughing, no more sneezing and sniffling. Just healthy. But he wasn’t a wizard, so he’d just have to suffer it out. Kibum had decided he had the energy to take a shower, and prayed that would relieve some of the awfulness. And the shower had helped him feel marginally less congested, but he still overall felt icky, and that just made him even more upset. 

While deep in his self pity hole, Kibum trudged back into the living room and nearly screamed at the sight of a man turning the corner from the kitchen. His sharp gasp caught in this throat, triggering a coughing fit that had him bent at the waist. Warm hands surrounded him, one holding onto his arm and the other supporting his back until he was finally able the fit subsided. Standing back up, breathing steadily, Kibum made eye contact with Jinki and nearly melted on the spot. He had entirely forgotten that Taemin had put in another call to both Jinki and Minho, and the older of the two had promised to stop over later, finally free from the solo schedules that had kept him away from his phone over the past 48 hours.

“Hyung,” he whined in spite of himself, shoulders slumping as he was pulled into a hug. Kibum closed his eyes, attempted to breathe in the familiar scent of his friend’s clothes, but coming up short. 

“Kibummie,” Jinki replied, running a soothing hand up and down the younger man’s back. “Tell me how you’re feeling. What can I do for you?” 

“I feel like shit,” Kibum answered. He tightened his hold on Jinki’s waist, deepening the hug. This was what he needed, someone to take care of him. Not that Taemin hadn’t been doing that, but it was hard to really do much when you were both so out of it. 

When he didn’t say anything else, Jinki laughed, the vibration of his chest coursing through Kibum too. “I’m gonna need a bit more than that, bud. Why don’t we get you back to the couch first?” Kibum nodded against Jinki’s shoulder, and reluctantly released him from the hug. He scrubbed at his nose, lurching away from the older man with a violent, “Iitchou! H-ikt-choo!” 

“Bless you.” Jinki snatched a few tissues from the box on the side table, passing them to Kibum before moving towards the couch. “Aw, Minnie,” he sighed at the sight of the youngest curled up there, a tangle of blankets, one of Kibum’s hoodies, and ridiculous bedhead. He instinctively moved towards him, but was startled back when Kibum grabbed him by the shoulders. 

“Don’t wake him! He’s sick!” Kibum hissed, physically trying to pull him away from Taemin. The youngest was by far the lightest sleeper in the group, but had the ability to sleep through an earthquake when he didn’t feel well. A simple tap to his forehead wasn’t going to wake him up by a long shot. But now that Jinki was focused on Taemin, Kibum was too, and his fever-addled brain had switched itself back into caretaker mode, so that wasn’t a battle Jinki was willing to fight right now. 

“Yes, I know, and so are you.” Jinki pressed a hand to Kibum’s forehead as if to check the fever he’d already felt earlier. “And you’re burning up, my friend. Which is why you both need to be medicated.”

Kibum huffed, stepping back so he could petulantly fold his arms over his chest. “I’m fine compared to him.” The sneeze that bent him at the waist after that statement said otherwise. 

Jinki rolled his eyes. One crisis at a time. “Whatever you say.” The leader turned his back on Kibum for the moment, kneeling next to the couch and gently shaking Taemin’s shoulder. The younger man groaned quietly. “Taeminnie? You gotta wake up for a minute, buddy.” Bleary eyes cracked open. 

“Hyung?” His voice was rough, hoarse and gravelly from sleep and sickness. 

Jinki pushed his bangs away from his face, unmoved by how sweaty they were. “Hey there, love.” 

“When did you get here?” 

“You called me this morning, remember?” Taemin just blinked at him, his brain still waking up. “I got here maybe fifteen minutes ago? I brought food, meds, and tea’s already steeping for you both. You should definitely drink that and take more medicine before falling back asleep.”

Taemin nodded. “Okay.” He rubbed at his eyes and started to wriggle into a sitting position as Jinki ruffled his hair. The older man got back to his feet and headed for the kitchen. 

“Sit.” He pushed Kibum gently towards the couch. The other man pouted. Sure, he wanted to be taken care of more than anything, but he also hated being told what to do. Especially when his head was hazy with fever. It was a conundrum his members were, fortunately, familiar with.

“Hyungie, sit,” Taemin repeated, patting the couch next to him. Kibum huffed, opting to slump into the recliner instead, pulling his knees to his chest. There: he was sitting, but on his own terms. 

“Okay, it’s been sitting for a few minutes so it should be perfect to drink,” Jinki announced, carefully carrying in two steaming mugs. He placed them both on the coffee table, then turned back to the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Taemin asked. 

“To get mine, silly,” Jinki answered with a smile. “I’ve learned not to try to carry three mugs at once.”

“I’m genuinely shocked you got two without spilling,” Kibum replied, reaching for his mug and savoring the heat of it between his palms. He took a careful sip, and felt tears spring to his eyes at how good the hot liquid felt on his sore throat. Jinki had always had a way of making tea exactly how people needed it; extra sweet on a lazy morning, cozy and creamy before bed, honeyed and fruity when sick. “It’s like a superpower,” Kibum declared, unaware he was speaking aloud. 

“Huh?” Taemin blinked at him, taking a sip from his own tea.

Kibum blinked back, totally confused. “What?” But he was saved from having to explain himself as Taemin pitched towards his left arm with a desperate “Ht’choo!”as he thrust his right arm holding the mug away, trying not to spill. Kibum instinctively grabbed the mug from him. “Ht’choo! Hah-ETchu!” 

“Bless you.” Jinki settled onto the floor in front of the coffee table, creating a triangle. 

“Can’t even enjoy tea,” Taemin moaned, collapsing back against the couch. He accepted the mug back from Kibum, sniffling miserably. “I hate this.”

“Me too.” Kibum raised his mug in solidarity. 

“I hate it for you both,” Jinki added, mimicking Kibum’s toast with his own mug. 

“Tell us about your project,” Taemin prompted, eager to think about something else for a while. Jinki happily obliged, explaining the concept for his next mini album, the ideas for the title track MV, and all of the recordings he’d been working on the past week. Taemin was entirely focused on Jinki’s stories, and while Kibum was also listening, he found his mind beginning to wander as he reached the bottom of his mug. 

Their current situation, Kibum had decided (and was now unknowingly explaining aloud to his suddenly captive audience of two,) was not Taemin’s fault. No. Their current situation was entirely Minho’s fault. As most things were when one really thought about it. (Jinki and Taemin exchanged a glance, one Kibum didn’t notice at all as he was currently sporting the miles-long stare reserved for the deeply drunk or terribly feverish. They opted to let Kibum continue rather than interrupt him like he’d interrupted Jinki). 

Taemin had been spending majority of his time this month practicing and promoting with the SuperM boys, so obviously he’d caught this cold from one of them, probably Mark, cause that kid was sick all the time, but that was a conversation for another day. Regardless, Taemin gets sick from SuperM, and then he has two days of solo filming, much of it outside, in this weather, only making things worse. And when he’d spiked a fever and tried to call his mom at 1:30am two days ago, she didn’t answer. And then Jinki, his next call, hadn’t answered either, which they knew was because Jinki himself had been up and busy working on his own solo filming, thankfully inside. So Taemin had called Kibum, now significantly more worked up, and how was Kibum supposed to ignore his dongsaeng when he was crying? So obviously, the blame fell entirely on one person. Choi Minho. Because where even was he? Their maknae was in trouble and was he anywhere to be found? No. Because he was ashamed to show his face after causing them such strife in the first place. 

Jinki, who had been listening with the patience of an absolute saint as Kibum narrated all of this, smiled to himself as he nodded along. The line of logic had completely dropped off, but Kibum was still going, waxing poetic on all of Minho’s supposed cirmes. The leader decided a while ago to let Kibum talk himself into exhaustion,  questioning if the cold medicine he’d slipped into the tea earlier was actually the drowsy kind or not, considering that it seemed to be having the opposite effect on Kibum. 

Which couldn’t be said for Taemin, who was already falling back asleep sitting up when he innocently asked, “Are you done?” Kibum paused. Taemin didn’t look annoyed, but genuinely curious. 

“What?” the older man asked, confused. 

“Talking. Are you done talking?” Taemin clarified, completely unaffected. There was something so genuine and harmless about the question that even Kibum couldn’t snap at him. 

“I mean… I guess,” the older man shrugged. “Why?”

Taemin held out an arm. “Come cuddle with me?” Kibum blinked, suddenly aware that he was extremely tired. His throat hurt a little less, his head felt a bit less stuffy, but the desire to sleep was immediately overpowering. Without a word, he stood and practically fell forward onto the couch, latching onto Taemin. He could never deny Taemin anything. 

“Hyung, will you come cuddle with us too?” Taemin asked as he shifted to more comfortably accommodate Kibum’s presence on the couch. 

“Maybe later. It’s probably best if one of us stays healthy,” Jinki smiled back at him. 

“Minho would cuddle with us,” Kibum grumbled in response. It took everything in Jinki not to burst out laughing at that. “And you have a better immune system than him anyway.”

“Minho really lives rent free in your brain, doesn’t he?” Jinki asked back. Kibum tried to hit him despite the presence of an entire coffee table’s length between them. Jinki laughed, grabbing a blanket that had fallen to the floor and carefully wrapping it around the pair on the couch. “Get some sleep, and we can call Minho so you can nag him when you wake up.” 

“Ooo, Minho-hyung would love that,” Taemin sighed, only retaining the part about calling Minho. Jinki chuckled again, patting each of them on the head.

As the leader collected the now empty mugs, Kibum pointed out, “Hey, you never gave us medicine.”

“Oh no, I did. It was in the tea.”

Kibum blinked. “What?”

“I mixed the extra strength cold medicine I knew you were gonna fight me on into the tea.” Jinki shrugged. “I’ve been doing it for years. You and Minho fought me too much early on, so I adapted.”

Despite his eyes dropping closed, Kibum pouted. “You bastard.” 

“Love you too, Ki. Now get some sleep.” 

[mykoreanlove]

Christmas day with Taemin 🥰 plis

„I know this wasn’t the Christmas you had in mind pookie but I think it’s the one that we needed.“

Curled up under the sheets you and your boyfriend talked for hours, not wanting to go to sleep and waste time apart. This Christmas, the first you spent as lovers, was supposed to be joyful: meeting Taemin‘s parents, going on a snowy hike in the mountains and drinking hot cocoa in front of the chimney.

That was on your vision board, that is what you had in mind. Reality however? The both of you caught COVID and spent Christmas at home, sick and miserable because all your plans fell through.

You looked up at him, still awestruck of his ethereal beauty.

„What do you mean?“

His hand found your cheek and caressed it lightly. Even though you were dating for quite a while his touch had still the same effect on you - igniting a fire that was hardly tamable. „I know you wanted to do a bunch of things and I saw how sad you were because of us getting sick. But pookie, I wouldn’t have it any other way.“

You touched his forehead, checking for his temperature.

„Baby, do you have a fever?“

Taemin broke out in a laugh, he always adored your humor, even if it was unintentional.

„I am fine. Listen, we spent three days with each other doing nothing but lying in each other’s arms, napping, watching movies and suffer together. I can’t remember the last time I had so much time with you. Only you, y/n. No distractions, no work, no other people - just me and you.“

You leaned into the touch of his hand, thankful to be loved by him.

„There will always be another time for sleigh riding and winter markets but having these days with you were so precious to me. You are so precious to me, pookie.“

Taemin placed a sweet kiss on your knuckles, flashing you one of his cutest smiles.

„Don’t you think it was hard?“

He nodded, validating your experience. „It was but it taught me a lot about you and me.“

You looked at him surprised. „Like what?“

Your boyfriend scooted closer, embracing you in his strong arms. „It taught me that we are a great team, y/n. We always take care of each other no matter how shitty we feel. When I’m down you raise me up and I do the same for you. We always have each other’s backs no matter what. It’s like…I feel like you’re my partner in crime.“

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

„It’s no secret that I love you y/n. But to me it’s more than that - I feel like you carry my heart in the palm of your hands. And now I know for sure that it’s safe in your sweet, tiny hands.“

You nuzzled your head into his broad chest, inhaling his musky scent to the fullest. Taemin was your home, this was what you always wanted and you were beyond grateful he felt the same.

His heart was beating right underneath your ear, calm and steady. You turned your head and kissed the left side of his chest, right above his heart.

The vibration of his chuckle distracted you. „Pookie, what are you doing?“

You looked up at him daringly.

„I’m protecting what’s mine… with all that I got.“

[orchardisland]

━━   𝐧𝐨𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠

Let me tell you the story of one of our unfortunate residents who seems to be a WEBTOON & FREELANCE ARTIST on the island. Fate has assigned this individual guidance from THE MOON card. But they needn’t worry, their secrets are safe with me.

DOB: october 31, 1994 DEFINING TRAITS: astute, creative, perceptive, detached, cunning, vindictive RESEMBLES: shinee lee taemin

content: body horror, FDIA (munchausen by proxy)

YOU ARE PRESENTED WITH A PRISTINE DECK OF TAROT CARDS. TAKE YOUR PICK.

It’s a dream. Harang knows it’s a dream because the world looks water-warped and bent at the edges.

The woman in front of him also doesn’t have a face.

It’s a blank slathering of skin stretched tight over a sheet of bone, soft indents where her eyes should be. She’s wearing his mother’s best dress. In front of her are cards, blank-backed and waiting to be picked up. He knows he should, because it’s a dream, and everything else around him is a void of black. He thinks, with some remaining thread of consciousness still left, that if this is his mother they should be a collection of business cards professing doctor’s offices. A random selection from which they should choose next, like he’s thirteen again and with no bodily autonomy. As he picks one up, he sees that it’s not  a business card, or anything medically relevant. Just a picture with a lopsided rendition of the moon. It’s dripping down into the sea sketched below, and Harang can almost feel his body melting with it. The woman in front of him still doesn’t have a face, but when he looks up she seems like she wants one.

Joints grind and shift, and her skin splits open as soft as a ripened peach, the fruit inside caving in with rot as she goes and forces open a mouth of her own. Now, she speaks, toothless and in an imitation of his mother that prickles at his nape.

“Illusion. Isn’t that who you are, isn’t that the world you grew from? My baby, my poor child. Always sick, never sick. Stuck in the middle.”

Harang frowns, lifts a hand to his own face, tracing at his own features like he’s wondering if they’re still there. He tries to ignore the truth that settles into him with a heavy certainty.

“Fear, anxiety. They consume you, always. My little coward. You never know what’s best. You need someone else to choose, don’t you? You’ll fuck it all up, won’t you?”

It’s hard to breathe, the air he’s pulling in is twisting around in his throat, idling on the way to his lungs. And like this, he proves her point.

“There’s so much inside of you. So much left repressed. So much you won’t let out. That’s who you are, isn’t it Harang? That’s who you’ll always be.”

You can’t die in a dream, even if you’re choking.

He’s yanked up, back to the living; twisting in a tomb of sweat-soaked sheets and wresting in an inhale that aches at his ribs.

The moon outside his window leers in at him. It sits, waiting and ominous. Harang draws the blinds and ignores it.

THE CARD FLUTTERS TO YOUR FEET. WHO WERE YOU BEFORE THIS STORY BEGAN?

—FIVE

When Harang inhales it sounds thick, wet. His skin’s all clammy, like the water in his lungs is trying to drain out through his pores (it doesn’t work). He settles into a tremble, even if he feels hot to the touch. Counts in his head for as long as he can hold his breath before he releases it out again. Fifteen seconds, and it ends in a cough that punches through at the ribs. It’s why he’d been holding it up, trying to keep that shock of a feeling away. The slow-drag ache that follows.

A groan that sounds more like a whimper as he rolls himself flat, cheek pressed to the ondal-warmed floorboards. It overheats him to the point where the muddied pallor of his face starts to stain pink.

His mother coos, and it’s songbird-sweet. She cards her fingers through Harang’s sweat-dampened hair, gifts him goosebumps and a shiver that he feels down to the soles of his feet. He curls his toes and wishes he could reject his own body. Molt out of it just like the blotchy black spiders that live in the corners of their bathroom.

Sickness has built a home inside of him. A sickness that takes shape, lives, thrives. A sickness he’s sick of.

“My poor, pretty thing.” His mother’s voice distracts him, pulls at wandering attention. He reaches out toward her, and through his blurry haze of medicated syrup he misses the edge of her nightgown. His hand is clumsy, and he knocks over her wine glass instead.

“Oh, fuck.” she mutters it out in that tight tone Harang hates. Her hand disappears to right the glass before more wine has time to soak into the pale carpet.

“Go to sleep Harang. I’ll get a towel, we’ll go to the doctor in the morning.” (Harang hates the doctor, he visits far too frequently. Hates when they poke and prod and search for blood deep in his veins).

She disappears, and he feels cold again. When he inhales, it hurts. Air ushered in with that stifling, pungent smell of alcohol. It sends him into a coughing fit, one that he has to push himself upright to manage. By the time it’s over and he’s clawing the hair out of his eyes he sees the aftermath of his mistake.

There’s a puddle of wine to ruin the rug. It seeps in; visceral, red.

—EIGHT

“Yes, I know you gave us money last month. But it’s not like we hadn’t been desperate for it then too.”

In the pause that follows, Harang can just barely make out the disjointed voice of his uncle on the other end. He scribbles abstract shapes on the cover page of his homework, his mother’s not paying enough attention to scold him.

“Don’t you dare say that to me. You know how much we’ve been struggling since he’s passed.”

His mother always says that in a peculiar way, passed. Not in the way of some, where they’re trying to dance around it, just...with a heaviness. Like she’s looking to unload it onto whoever she’s talking to. Make it feel like it’s their burden to bear instead of hers, that her husband went and died.

And Harang can tell that his uncle usually accepts this burden in some begrudging way, unsure of how to say no in the ugly face of tragedy. Hammered home when she weaponizes him, too.

“And...Harang. You know. You know we have medical bills, he’s always sick.” that’s hissed out in a half-whisper as she tilts her body away from him, and Harang wonders if she really believes that the direction would cover her voice. Maybe. He colors in a triangle with the deep blue of his ballpoint pen, one leg swinging to knock a heel rhythmic against the leg of the chair. He muses on what’s for dinner.

“I’ve been looking for work, but there’s only so many options in this hellhole. We came here because you got him a job, remember? Building ships, well, what a great fucking future that left me and your nephew with.”

Harang can tell the precise moment his uncle gives in and says yes; it’s when his mother lets the tension loosen from her muscles. Posture returning back into something graceful by the time she sets the phone back into its cradle.

“What are you- Noh Harang, stop that.”

There’s no affection in her tone, words snapped out with a rubber band sting. Harang fixes a blank stare on her face, lets his fingers go lax. The pen rolls free. He shoves himself up from the chair, ignores the angry words that follow him out of the kitchen.

—ELEVEN

This used to confuse him, the hot-cold-hot way his mother handles him. Still in the doorframe of his grandmother’s house and her fingers ring delicate around his shoulders. Doting and careful, the way that children’s books tell him that mothers should act. Twenty steps deep and buried in the back of their car old enough to be described as a relic and it’ll disappear, that predilection.

He can foresee it as he clutches plastic tupperware containers of leftovers to his chest, watches as she fiddles with the knob of the radio. When music finally plays, it’s with a residue of static. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and she glares at the road when they drive onto it.

“I want ice cream.”

He doesn’t, but he wants his mother back. The one from his grandmother’s house, the one that appears like magic when there are people around them; or when he’s in a doctor’s office and they’re running him through more tests.

“We just ate. And anyway, you need to take your vitamins.”

Harang rolls his eyes, fits a temple to the window so she won’t see. He doesn’t like the vitamins, they make his stomach roll with nausea. Especially when she tells him he’s deficient enough to need two of them.

But then, that’s when she appears again, those moments where he feels ill. That same sort of mother, fretting and cooing and blotting the sweat from his brow. It’s hard to separate out all of his tangled feelings about his body, the inexplicable bouts of sickness. Oscillates from self-hatred to a longing for the affection he knows will follow.

It’d be better, Harang thinks, if he just didn’t feel much of anything at all.

—FIFTEEN

“I don’t know why you’re so sullen about this. All you do is sit in your room and draw anyway. You’ll just have a nicer bedroom to do it in.”

Does his mother sound defensive? Or just indifferent to the plights of a preteen; where upending his life and moving to a newly developed island sounds more like a punishment than a change of scenery.

“You know why I sit in my room and draw.” his words sound chipped, like Harang had been grinding them up between his molars before he’d gotten around to spitting them out. She frowns. He frowns back. A war of silent disapproval (and doesn’t quiet violence always dig in deeper?).

“And how is any of that my fault? All I do is take care of you. Spend my money on you. I get this one nice thing, and when it happens you lock yourself in your room and sulk. So this is just your thanks to me, then?”

Emotions always drape themselves over Harang abstract and ill-fitting, like he doesn’t know how to wear them properly. Tuck everything into place and look the way he’s meant to in them. And now, presented with this, he stares. He stares in the way he knows his mother hates, only fair, since she’s gone and used that voice Harang hates first.

He knows he should feel guilty, and maybe he does. Maybe that’s what that hollow spot knocked out under the dip in his ribs is meant to swallow up and store.

And maybe if he’d known how to reshape that numbed neutrality into resentment or anger and turned it against that man she’s been seeing, well maybe then they wouldn’t be moving pre-wedding. Maybe then he wouldn’t be uprooted. And maybe then she wouldn’t have access to so much more money and unvisited doctors an ocean-leap away.

But he doesn’t. So Harang locks his jaw and stares until his mother’s snapping his door shut. Finality, a decision made without him. His quiet acceptance (though don’t those always feel weaker, more coerced?).

—SIXTEEN

It’s a new one. Big, blue, and as his saliva erodes at the gel-cap, bitter. Harang folds the pill underneath his tongue. He doesn’t feel like being sick today, he feels like going to his classmate’s party. It’s best not to let her know that he’s figured it out though, best not to throw a fit and refuse.

Harang wants that attention sometimes, wants that version of his mother that being sick brings.

Sometimes he’ll swallow down those pills with little prompting. But not tonight.

“I’ll come home right away if I start getting sick, I promise.” She looks back at him like she knows it will happen (expects it to happen, wants it to happen).

On the way out the door, far enough away that she can’t see him out their front window, he spits the pill into his palm. Jams it down deep into the front pocket of his jeans.

Four hours later and on his way back home, Harang remembers to fish it back out, swallows it down dry. He learns it doesn’t pair well with cheap beer.

His mother though, after she finds him upending the night’s contents of his stomach into the flower bed in front of their home, wraps him up in down quilts and presses a wet rag to his forehead.

“Maybe you should stop going out so much.”

He groans, and it’s meek. Harang hates the sound of himself, steeped in a clouded pain as his mother forces water between his lips. When he falls into a fitful fever-dream, his mind runs rampant. Morphs the confusion of his adolescence into something violent.

When he wakes up later in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets, he should feel perturbed. But he doesn’t.

—SEVENTEEN

“I saw Kim Jaemin going through our homeroom teacher’s desk. He took his wallet, I think. I forgot my science book and went back into the classroom, and…”

The ease in which Harang holds himself doesn’t match the principal’s office. Maybe this should put the man on edge, but it never seems to. Harang’s disposition has a way of permeating the room. His principal twines his fingers together; unintentionally, Harang mirrors him.

“Well, I appreciate you coming in, telling me. This is, of course, troubling news. Not that, I mean. Well, not that it’s your problem to fix. I know you’re a good student I’ve heard very good things from your teachers.”

The man stutter-stops through his sentence, and Harang offers him a sympathetic smile, one that reads regretful. He pauses before building the moment up with emotion. “I still feel a bit guilty, though. Like I should’ve stopped him, or...something.” Teeth digging into the inside of his cheek, and there’s worry found between his brows.

“No, no. I understand, and it’s not your responsibility. This isn’t the first time Jaemin has, well...I don’t blame you in not wanting to get tangled up in his messes. And graduation is close. Don’t worry about it Harang. Really.”

They move their way through rehearsed norms, where Harang bows a little too deeply and his principal nods kindly in his direction. A polite form of camaraderie as he shuts the door behind him.

Ten paces down the hallway and Harang slips his hand into the front pocket of his school slacks. The leftover emotion of their interaction slides off his face, leaves him blank as he pulls out a wallet, flips through the contents he finds inside. Guts it of anything worth value and tosses the carcass into Kim Jaemin’s gym locker. Leaves through the back exit.

Maybe now they’ll finally expel him. Harang still hasn’t let go of the fact that Jaemin keeps denying he stole his set of pro-grade markers just to piss him off (it had to have been him, Harang’s decided it).

—TWENTY-ONE

Noh Harang,

It is my duty to inform you that you've been terminated from the Art's Department undergraduate program in-

There’s a rip from the edge, a lopsided drag that hides the rest of that ugly truth typed up neat in the letter. Two years wasted, and he should feel angry about it. Maybe he does.

Does he regret sabotaging his classmate’s final art project with violent slashes of red oil that bled into an unsalvageable act of portrait-horror after he had given him less than ideal commentary during a critique?

No. Maybe he should.

Does he regret that he got caught? Of course.

Does his step-father regret giving him money to attend university in the first place? Probably.

Does his mother regret watering him with too much cough syrup and conditional love; growing him into the person he’s become?

Sometimes he wonders.

—TWENTY-TWO

A blurry and nondescript unfolding of military conscription. Harang doesn’t dwell on the experience.

—TWENTY-FIVE

Boxes are piled around the apartment in lopsided stacks, trembling and impatient to either be unpacked or fall over neglected. It feels strange, to be on his own, away from his mother, even if he’s still tied down to the same island (where else is a university reject meant to go, he needs to retrace his steps back to the familiarity and monetary support of his adolescence).

The feeling takes a while to settle.

It’s not overly-spacious, the apartment, but he doesn’t need it to be. His tablet’s the only thing he’s gone and excavated out of the messy entrails of his gutted life. Harang’s hunched over it, trying to finish the next chapter of his webcomic on a deadline. Moving’s gone and messed up his schedule, the heavy dark circles that ring his eyes are evidence enough.

But like hell he’s about to swallow down a sleeping pill willingly.

So he works instead, it’s how he’s paying for this after all. The apartment, his independence. A focus to build his reader-base higher. Transferring all those strange and mottled horror-fused thoughts that creep through his brain into entertainment. It makes him feel more normal at least; in his ill-fitting life, with his ill-fitting emotions.

Hides in all of the mismatched layers of personality.

—TWENTY-SEVEN

He hasn’t figured it out.

But at least the webtoon is doing alright.

[adezahnae]

Temptation #1

Temptation and New Feeling:

⚠️This will contain 21+ scenes and language if you don’t like, please leave!!⚠️

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“YN!” My husband, James yelled. I walked to where he was. “What is it?” I asked. “You got a package.” He said handing me the box. I took it, looking at it confusingly. “What is this?” I asked. “You think I know? You see, it’s for you.” He said, walking back into his office. I rolled my eyes and walked back to our bedroom.

I opened the packaging and seen that it was a brand box from a very expensive store. I opened the box and seen a black, tight, sequin, dress. I gasped and pulled it out. I then thought, the only person I know that would give me such a gift from. I saw my phone light up as I looked at the dress. I picked it up to see who it was:

Taemin: Hey, I wanted to let you know that I’m going to take you out tonight! Get dressed in the dress I gave you and I’ll be there at 8:45pm. Love you🤍

I gasped and squealed. Taemin is my coworker and has been best friend since college. We always hang around each other and go to places me and my own husband hasn’t been. He always refer to himself as my ‘second husband.’ During the past days we’ve hung out together, I began to feel things I shouldn’t feel as a married woman.

I would always love the way he would call me by my nickname, Stars. He would call me that because he always say I have stars in my eyes and I always brighten him up each day. I would tend to have...dreams...about him. Thinking of things I should think of with my husband. I would like the way he looked at me when I talked.

He look and listen to me all the time. He held a special place in my heart and I couldn’t even think of ruining this friendship with him. I began to get ready since he would be here in 30 minutes. Knowing Taem, he can get a little impatient and began to blow his horn, waking up the neighbors. And that is a damn headache.

I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup when James walked in the room. “Where are you going?” He asked. “Out with Taemin.” I replied, putting down my blush brush. “You’re always out with that guy.” He said. “Well that ‘guy’ happens to be my best friend for ten plus years. Thank you.” I said turning around and facing him.

“Yeah, but why are you both always going out like you both are dating or something? He bought you that dress didn’t he?” He asked. “Yes he did.” I replied. “Now what type of friend/coworker buys their friend/coworker an expensive dress like that? He does too much for me..” James said. I huffed. He always does this. It makes me sick that every time I go out with Taemin, he gets all sketchy and defensive. Like he cares.

“Well a friend who see their other friend struggling to get the strong need of her husband to spend some time with her. Now if you excuse me, I need to get outside, he’s here.” I said grabbing my purse and my long coat getting up. “Yn don’t be like that.” He said reaching for me. I dodged his touch putting on my coat and walked outside to see Taem already there, waiting for me.

“Taemin! Hi!” I exclaimed running up to him to hug him. He chuckled and hugged me back. “Hi Stars.” He greeted. There it is..the nickname. I pulled away and turned around. “Bye James. Be back later.” I said. Taemin opened the door for me and let me in.

“Yeah, see ya later James.” Taemin said closing the door for me. He walked to the other side and and got in, starting the car. “Ready?” He asked. “Yep!” I said clicking my seatbelt and relaxing. He always had the nicest car.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Me and Taem were at the restaurant, enjoying ourselves and having a good time. As we were talking, I would just think of the things I usually do. The way he talks, walks, looks, and even feels. All of these thoughts led me to think...unholy...it reminded me of a dream I’ve had..twice.

As I was thinking, he snapped you out of it with his words. “Whatcha thinking about?” He asked with a smirk on his face. “Huh? Oh nothing.” I laughed grabbing my wine glass and taking a drink from it. “Then why are you staring at me like that?” He asked, quirking his eyebrow.

I cleared my throat and shook my head. “Nothing...” I mumbled. “You’re thinking of me?” He asked tilting his head to the other side as he sat back in his chair. “W-What? No! No.” I lied, shifting in my seat. Why did I feel such a hot wave go over me? It’s like he just put me in a spot.

“You want me don’t you?” He asked with the most shit-eating grin ever. My eyes widened and I felt like I was in trouble. “No...I..Min come on, don’t be stupid alright?” I said. He sat up in his chair. “Don’t lie to me. I know how you are and I know how your behavior has switched this week. Staring at me, zoning out, clenching your legs together when I call you by your nickname. You make a lot obvious Yn.” He explained.

What. The. Hell. How did he know?! How is he THAT observant?! “U-Uh..um.” He laughed at me with a smirk. “You know it’s funny..” He said. “What is?” I asked. “Because I think about you too.” He said looking me in the eyes. A blush crept up on my face. I cleared my throat and took a sip of wine. “Wow..I never knew..” I mumbled.

He took my glass and sat it down slowly. “Yn..I know you okay and I know when you want something or someone. And right now, this is your safe place.” He said. He leaned closer to me and began to touch my cheek. My eyes flattered shut for a little, feeling his hand on me. “Taemin, look..I’m...” I mumbled. “You’re married, I know...but I know Yn. You really want me.” He said.

“Yeah but...” I mumbled. “Then answer my question. Do you want me?” He asked. His thumb began to caress my cheek and my eyes fluttered shut again. At this point, he knows. There’s no point in hiding it and well..it been a while for me. This one chance shouldn’t hurt me. Right?

“I do...” I whispered. “Tell me.” He said. I looked up at him. “What?” I asked. “Tell me that you want me..” He whispered brushing his thumb now on my bottom lip. “I want you...” I mumbled. He gripped my chin and pulled me into a deep kiss. I gasped as he did and he took the chance to slip his tongue inside my mouth.

“Come home with me..” He mumbled against my lips. “O-Okay..” I said back causing him to smile at me.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

We didn’t even make it to the bedroom and we were already all over each other. He pulled my jacket off my shoulders and threw it on the floor along with his and walked us through the door and picked me up as he led us upstairs. We went into his bedroom and he thrown me on the bed. He unbuttoned his shirt and threw it off of him, across the room.

He pulled me down by the ankles and hiked up my dress. His finger grazed over my heat making me shiver and whimper. “Aren’t you wet huh?” He asked. “Min, don’t tease..” I mumbled. “I do what I please, remember that Starry.” He said with a smirk.

His words made me pool my own underwear again. He hiked my dress up more and took his teeth and pulled down my underwear. I bit my lip as he did so, I’ve never had anyone do this to me. Not even my own husband. He grabbed them from his mouth and threw it somewhere in the room.

He buried his face back in between my legs and began to work his mouth. I gasped and whined out at the feeling I haven’t ever felt. “Oh my god...Shit!” I cursed as I took a grip on his hair. He hummed against me making me arch my back. His eyes closed in delight. “You taste sweet..” He mumbled. He swirled his tongue around my hole and stuck it in.

“Oh fuck!” I cursed again, pulling at his hair again and grabbing my left breast. He took his thumb and rubbed it over my nub. “Taemin! I’m gonna cum!” I moaned. He brought his mouth to my nub and pushed his ring and middle finger in, piston them at a fast pace. I whined out and arched my back off the bed.

He fingered me through my high and slowed down. I sighed as I came down from it. My heavy breathing was all that could be heard in the room. I looked down to see him sucking his fingers off. “Mmm...very much sweet..” He said.

I sat up on the bed and kissed on his neck as I began to try and unbuckle his belt. He let out a chuckle and helped me out by finishing it. He removed it from the loops of his pants. “Give me your hands..” He whispered. I pulled away from his neck and did so. He took his belt and wrapped it around my wrists. He secured it and laid me back down.

He took the end of my dress and slid it down my body, throwing it where our clothes were. I didn’t wear a bra since it was strapless. He licked his lips as he stared at me. I looked away, feeling a little shy since it’s been a while since a man has taken a look at me. He grabbed my chin softly and made me look at him again.

“You don’t need to be shy around me, Yn. It’s your husband that should be embarrassed for letting this all go to waste...” He said. I blushed at his complement, feeling special. He leaned down and kissed me softly. I kissed back hard, feeling an amazing spark in me. “Min..” I whispered. “Hm?” He replied. “Fuck me.” I said looking in his eyes.

He formed a smirk and kissed on my neck. He kissed up to my ear and whispered in it. “Gladly..” He pulled his pants and briefs off and threw them on the floor. He took a condom and slipped it on. He spread my legs more and put them on his waist. He lifted my arms to where they were above my head and slowly pushed and rolled himself in.

I gasped and cried out, feeling the feeling I haven’t felt in a year. “You’re okay?” He asked. “Damn it Taemin, FUCK ME!” I yelled. He smiled. “Okay.” He said. He pulled out completely and slammed back inside. I cried and gripped at the belt. He then began to bottom out, hard.

“Yes!! Fuck yess!” I moaned feeling like I was on a cloud. He groaned and grunted and gripped my hips. “So tight..fuck.” He groaned. The heels of my shoes dug into the lower part of his back. He took my left leg and lifted it up to his shoulder. He began to hit a good spot. “Right there! Please, right there!” I moaned.

He chuckled and grabbed my ankle and kissed on my calf and bit on it. I hummed at the feeling and arched my back again. “Taemin, I’m gonna cum again!!” I groaned. “Do it baby..cum on me..” He whispered. He pushed his hips harder causing me to scream. I did so and cried. “That’s it..good girl..” He praised. I jolted at those words alone, knowing I have a praise kink.

He smiled and kissed my neck, making another hickie. He pulled out and turned me around to where I was on my hands and knees. He pushed my face down more and arched my back more. “A-Aren’t you a man of control huh?” I asked turning around to look at him with a smirk.

“And aren’t you a submissive little slut?” He asked back and landed a smack on my butt. “Mmm fuck Taem..” I whimpered. “You didn’t think I would know about your little degrading kink as well? I observe you a lot, Starry..” He said. I giggled and wiggled back onto him. “Please do that again?” I asked, wanting to feel the sting again.

He did so with a chuckle as I jerked forward. “You like that don’t you, slut?” He asked in my ear. I bit my lip and nodded my head. He bit down on my ear. “I can’t hear that.” He whispered darkly, making me shiver. “Yes sir..” I mumbled. “Good girl..” He replied.

He pushed himself in again at full force and began to bottom out. I gasped and bit the pillow. He groaned. “Gosh this feels so good..” I whispered. “Yeah? It does, slut?” He asked. I nodded, clenching around him at his words. He began to thrust harder and hit a good spot. I cried out and rolled my eyes to the back of my head. He growled.

“This is all you needed right? To be fucked really good like a slut should be, huh?” He asked. I nodded my head moaning and groaning. “Yes sir! Oh fuck yes! It’s all I needed.” I whined in the pillows. He took my hair and wrapped it around his hand, pulling it back.

“Let me hear you..” He whispered. “Yesss Sirrr!!!” I whined. I felt the knot in my stomach get tighter and tighter. “Are you gonna cum?” He asked breathing heavily, knowing that he was close as well. “Yes! Oh FUCK YES!” I screamed. He smirked and yanked my hair harder going harder than before.

I gripped the belt on my wrists tighter and bit the pillow under me. He growled out as he felt himself release. “FUCK!” He growled. I moaned out as I reached my high. He slowed down as he rode out our highs. He lightly laughed as I settled my noises. “Feels good?” He asked. I nodded as I babbled words I couldn’t make out myself. The last thing I felt was his lips on the back of my neck, making me feel calm and sleepy...

[jinkisbelly]

Recrudescence

This is the third little oneshot in my skyrim au that connects Part 1 and my eventual Part 2.  First,  Second, Can be read on Ao3 Pairing: Jongyu Rating: Pg-13 w/c:2.2k

Warnings: The Violence occurs off screen so to speak, but injuries are mentioned; blood, broken bones and bruises.

Summary: Jinki realizes almost too late, that being Archmage and staying in Winterhold isn't more important than keeping Jonghyun safe. Set a few years after the second one shot.

           Usually, for a supply run, Jinki sent at least two Master mages, but with the blizzard coming in and a sickness running through the College there weren’t many to give such a task to. Which, left him and Jonghyun usually, but the locals of Winterhold had gotten bold of late, harassing mages as they walked from the inn for a drink or to socialize. With so many mages down for the count because of the illness, Jonghyun had taken most of the guard duties out by the front gate and had even begun to escort mages to and from the inn at night. The supply run was mostly ingredients the College was lacking in order to combat the illness running rampant throughout its walls and Jinki had been confident in his ability to complete the run alone (Even if Taemin in all his sniffles and snot had begged to go with him).

             The trip down to the Mill where the College had shipments of supplies sent from Windhelm had been uneventful. The blizzard was freezing, but Jinki kept himself as warm as he could on top of his furs and cloak Jonghyun had been adamant about tying around his shoulders before he left. Returning with the large box with a rope tied around it, dragging it easily through the snow with slight assistance from telekinesis, it almost seemed too easy. Every so often his foot would slip on a hidden patch of ice beneath the snow on the stone path, but it was easy to catch himself before he fell down completely.

             Late at night, or technically early morning, Winterhold is almost a ghost town as he made it into the city’s limit. The general store is closed, a few candles visibly lit in the Jarl’s house, and the only noise to be heard over the whistling wind is the bustle of the Inn to the right of him as he pulls the supplies toward the ramp leading to the College. The wards are up at the front gate curiously, but without a guard, that was the new protocol. A movement to the left catches his eye and he tensed when he realized it’s a city guard. His ear twitched slightly when he heard the guard sneer. “I hope your little human enjoyed his night.”

             Panic gripped Jinki’s heart, but he didn’t allow the guard the satisfaction of seeing it on his face. He kept his chin up, calmly saying. “Have a good night, Sir.”

             As soon as the supplies were around the corner of the ramp leading up to the College, Jinki let go of the rope and sprinted the rest of the way to the last gate. He didn’t know what had happened if anything, or if the guard was just trying to rile him up, but nothing was ever good when it came to the guards of Winterhold.

 ------

           He hadn’t wanted Taemin to come with him and the few residents of the college recovered enough to take a trip to the inn in town, but the young mage was persistent. Something he shared with his older brother that was for sure. The boy had grown in the last couple of years, still slim and lanky as his weight failed to keep up with his height spurt. Unfortunately, it was clear the boy would be taller than him and Jonghyun hated it. He figured if he got the boy back in one piece and into bed, a little trip for some hot cider and bard music wouldn’t hurt. Jonghyun snorted as Taemin hiccuped loudly just behind him, slipping from the front door of the inn. “Your brother would have my head if he knew I let you down here with you being sick.”

           “I doubt he’d behead his husband.” This time Taemin burped, eyes widening in shock before he giggled. “Besides, it’s healing me.”

             With a roll of his eyes, Jonghyun held open the door for the other two young mages he was escorting to and from the inn tonight. “Come on. Let’s get back.”

           The snow falling was very light and slow, glistening in the light from the stars and torches lit and hooked on the buildings around the town. Usually, it would be brighter, but the moon was nowhere in sight in the sky, clouds covering it or maybe it was in the darker state as Jinki liked to talk about from his tomes he loved to read. The entrance to the ramp leading up to the college was well lit, permanent mage lights glowing brightly in the dimness of night. The inn wasn’t that far from it, the closest building to the college besides the general store. Most of the night, things have been slow and content, even the few guards in the inn paying them no mind with their usual snide remarks and glare half-hidden by their helms. After living here predominantly in the last few years, Jonghyun had gotten used to the names sneered at him as he moved about the town, but that didn’t prevent him from immediately tensing when one was hissed like a snake in the darkness. He pulled his ax from his back slowly, fingers flexing along the leather-bound handle with a nod toward the ramp. “Taemin lead the others, quickly.”

             “I’m not leaving you.”

             “Your brother left me here to protect you. You will not be harmed under my watch. It’s probably nothing, remember to put the wards up.” Taemin stood stock still in front of him, bottom lip trembling just a little, and Jonghyun prepared himself for more of a fight. Taemin’s jaw clenched, teeth probably grinding in his mouth, before he nodded, grabbing the other two mages’ hands and tugging them towards the opening. As soon as they were close enough, Jonghyun’s eyes flicked around him in the darkness. There was a glint in the blackness leading to the cliff where half the town had fallen into the sea some years before. Jonghyun took a deep breath as a few guards stepped from the shadows, lowering his weapon only slightly, wishing he had worn his heavy armor instead of the light leather and a cloak for warmth. While there were always guards roaming the city at all hours, something about this had the hair on the back of his neck and along his arms standing on end. “Evening gentlemen, ladies. Something wrong?”

             “You’re the one with your weapon out.”

           Jonghyun shifted his feet, a little closer to his fighting stance, “Any experienced fighter does so when they hear things bumping in the night.”

             He felt the guards circling behind him, cutting him off from the college entrance, now bright blue as Taemin completed the wards. No matter what happened, Taemin and the other mages would be alright, and that relief made Jonghyun feel a bit lighter. “An experienced fighter also doesn’t send away friends before a fight.”

           With eyebrows raised, eyes flicking over the gathering of guards before remaining on the leader. “Will there be a fight?”

           The man grinned, “Not much of one, no.”

             Jonghyun slid his back foot a bit, fingers flexing on the handle and rocking a bit on his toes as anticipation filled his chest. He smirked then, “Oh, finally something we can agree on.”

 -----

           The door to his room was locked and Jinki almost dropped his key his hand was shaking so hard as he lifted it to the lock. He managed to lock it behind him before taking the stairs two at a time. When he stepped through the large archway Kibum and Taemin were hovered over by the alchemy table, the younger mage running to and from the shelves along the wall for ingredients. Kibum’s back was towards him, muscles moving under the thin tunic he usually wore when he slept, as he ground the items Taemin brought to him. Jinki swallowed thickly, barely recognizing his own voice when he questioned, “Where is he?”

             Kibum whipped around, dark hair falling into his eyes, skin a bit damp. He looked exhausted, far more than Jinki could remember him being since coming to the college and traveling the land alongside Minho. “He’s on the bed. Jinx- It looks worse than it is.”

             He peeled out his furs and cloak, tossing them towards the enchanting table as he rounded his garden and completely stopped in his tracks. With everything in him, he hoped Kibum was correct. Jonghyun looked so small and vulnerable on the bed, with more bruised skin than healthy from what he could see along his arms and face. Slowly he crossed the distance between them, sitting on the sliver of the bed beside him and ever so gently cupped Jonghyun’s hand in his. It held none of the familiar strength in the fingers and palm always holding his own or moving along his body. These hands weren’t ones that could swing a heavy weapon with ease. He vaguely heard movement and registered the hands-on his shoulder were Taemin’s. Kibum sat on the other side, legs underneath him and a bowl of clean water balanced beside him. “All of the Restoration mages are down with the sickness and I didn’t think it was a good idea for him to catch it like this. I’ve done my best, but you know it was never a talent of mine. He’s taken a few health potions and he’s stable, but- This was the best I could do.”

           “I have him.” He whispered, not taking his eyes from Jonghyun’s unmoving face. He let the warmth of his healing seep from his palms, swirling around the broken fingers and bruised skin of the man’s handheld within his. “What happened?”

             “We were on our way back from the inn. Jonghyun had let me go if I felt a bit better and he got me hot cider. On the way back he heard something, told me to rush ahead with the other apprentices and put the wards up.” Taemin’s hands shifted just a little along his back and when he spoke his voice was just as shaky as his hands. “I heard voices and what sounded like a fight, but I hid as Jonghyun told me to until it was silent… I found him by the end of the ramp like this. I’m so sorry, Jinki.”

             “Whatever for, Taemin?”

           “I should have stayed, helped him!” Taemin sucked in a ragged breath, voice breaking towards the end, hands ripped from Jinki’s shoulders. “He wouldn’t be like this.”

             “This isn’t your fault and if you had stayed there’s no telling what could have befallen you.” Jinki felt himself softly smile, thumb gentle on the back of Jonghyun’s hand. “When I left he promised to look after you, and he kept his word.”

             Kibum removed the damp cloth from Jonghyun’s forehead with a quiet hum. “I’m going to fetch you something more substantial to eat for after you heal him. Do not overdo things. Splitting up the healing in sections won’t harm him in the long run.”

             “I know my limits Kibum.”

             The elf sighed, before gathering the bowl and cloth, turned toward the youngest mage in the room. “Come Taemin. You should get some sleep.”

             “I can’t!”

             “Young one,” Jinki slightly turned, looking over his shoulder at him. “Running yourself ragged will not help any of us. Please try to get some rest. I’ll handle this just fine.”

           Finally, after a few moments, Taemin rushed out, but not before falling over Jinki’s shoulders in a desperate hug. One alone with his husband, Jinki let out the first sob, clinging to the freshly healed hand like a lifeline. So many people he cared for had been hurt because of their relationship with him. How long could he risk Jonghyun’s wellbeing in order to keep living the life he had here at the college? Was being archmage and teaching more important than the man he loved life? Before it had just been his own life he was whisking by staying here in a city where the guards hated him and everything he represented, but there was more. Could he really go and tell his mother-in-law that her only child had been killed for loving him? “Oh Love, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

           He kissed Jonghyun’s knuckles before setting his hand back on the bed. He stood then and took a few steps to stand at the end of the bed. After a very deep breath, he raised his hands, putting everything he could into his healing. The brightness of his magic glowed even through his eyelids and he began to feel the beginnings of fatigue tickle in his chest, but he pushed on. He wouldn’t allow there to be any physical reminder of this cowardly attack on Jonghyun. He felt bones sliding into place, muscle stitching back together and bruises clearing from his tan skin. The swell of his injuries lessened as the golden light swirled around his body, looking for another broken bit to put back together. Vaguely through the blood rushing past Jinki’s ears and the pounding of his growing headache, he could hear Jonghyun’s groans and whimpers.

             He hadn’t lied to Kibum for he did know his limits. Only this time he was going to push past them in order to complete this. The less time Jonghyun was in pain, the better. The last thing Jinki remembered was his vision going blurry, a sharp pain against his temple as his legs crumpled beneath him, and a voice growing more panicked that was very familiar.

 ------

[mymoodwriting]

2.5k, yandere, manipulation, torture, assault, guns, minor character death (@xcharlottemikaelsonx)

“Have you ever been hurt before?”

“Huh?”

“You never went on missions with your boys until the train, so have you ever had an injury that Ten needed to heal?”

“Oh… well… no… they all kept me pretty safe…”

“I see.”

      You were quite surprised as to where you ended up. The place seemed so plain and boring, and yet you entered an indoor garden. You were amazed by the sight and then you spotted a familiar face.

“Ten!”

      You ran over and hugged the boy from behind. He seemed a bit startled at first and then overjoyed to see it was you. He was quick to embrace you, peppering your face with kisses.

“Y/n, are you okay? I’ve been worried sick!”

“I’m fine, I-”

    You whimpered as you moved your broken hand. He was quick to find the source and grab your hand. His ability to heal helped him identify injuries even if they weren’t obvious. He gently took your hand, healing it, and then glared at Taemin.

“What did you do!”

“He didn’t do anything.” You quickly moved between them. “I broke my hand…”

“What? How?”

“It was an accident… Taemin had me talking with someone and… I got really upset…”

“What do you mean?”

“I can read minds, Taemin taught me and… I learned… I saw… I saw the things they did to Taemin…”

“You showed her that stuff!”

“I’m okay, Ten. It’s important to… understand each other…”

“Still.”

“I said I’m fine. Besides I got to know what it’s like for you to heal me, and it’s pretty cool.”

Ten sighed and ruffled your hair. “Yeah, it’s pretty cool.”

“What are you doing here anyway? This place is really beautiful.”

“Practicing.”

“Huh?”

“Watch this.”

    Ten picked a wilted flower. You stared at it perplexed, and then you saw it bloom again. You took the flower with amazement, taking in the scent.

“Wow, that’s so cool! I didn’t know you could do something like this.”

“Me neither.”

“Is that why you’re here? Making everything bloom again?”

“More or less. This is a different type of healing… I need to get used to it to be better.”

“I’m sure you will.”

“You should get back to it.” Taemin said. “I’m sure the others would like to… see… y/n.”

    It had been a while since you actually saw the rest of your boys, so you were excited to see them. Although you then remembered what you had done to Taeyong and Mark, suddenly feeling shy and guilty. You didn’t know who you were gonna see first, and you didn’t know what you were going to say either. Instead of a garden this time you entered a plain white room, seeing Taeyong huddled in a corner, some weird device on his head that blocked his vision, and a collar around his neck. You ran to him before you could be stopped, forgetting your previous worries.

“Taeyong! What did they do to you! What is this?”

“Y/n… is that really you?”

“Yes, what’s going-” Taeyong pulled you into his arms, feeling you up to make sure it really was you. “It’s me Taeyong.”

“I’ve been worried like crazy. Are you okay? You’re not hurt are you?”

“No, I’m fine, but what about you? What are they doing?” You turned to Taemin. “What is this?”

“Necessary.”

“Necessary! I thought you were being a dick to just me cause I can’t do shit!”

“What?” Taeyong’s grip on you got tighter. “What are you talking about? What has he been doing to you?”

“I’m fine, Taeyong… he’s just… helping me figure out my powers.”

“Helping?”

“… I kinda get how reading minds go… you’re really worried about Taemin’s intentions right now… and trying to figure out how to get out of your restraints.”

“So you also just go into people’s heads without permission now?”

“I… sorry… I didn’t-”

“You’re not hurt, right? You’re not lying to me?”

“No… I’m okay…”

“You gotta look after yourself okay, I’ll figure this out, so just hold on.”

“Have I not been clear?” Taemin questioned. “I have no ill intentions towards any of you, but I understand you need proper motivation to improve.”

“Then stop speaking in riddles and tell me what you want from me. You’re doing this for a reason, so tell me what you think I can do.”

“Just like that? You’ll do it?”

“Try me.”

“Excellent. Now, listen closely cause I don’t like repeating myself. You create duplicates of yourself, empty headed copies of you that function with a singular purpose in mind. In this state you cannot see, but you don’t necessarily need your eyes.”

“I said to stop-”

“What makes you think you can’t possibly connect, or possess, your duplicates? They are you after all.”

“You think I can… like… project my consciousness?”

“Of course, it would have made things easier back then too. Send out a copy of yourself while you remain behind to look after y/n, both of you safe and sound.”

“If that’s it, what’s with the shock collar? I can’t create a duplicate like this.”

“You need to get used to the pain.” Taemin pulled you out of Taeyong’s arms. “Let’s go.”

    Taeyong tried to reach for you again, but never found you. Instead he heard the door close and was once again in his solitude. At least now he had a goal, or at least something to try, since he still didn’t believe what Taemin told him was possible. Regardless he needed to do something, you were all on your own, and he couldn’t be locked up like this. For now at least he could focus on getting past the pain of the shock collar and use his power like normal.

❤

    A part of you wanted to choke out Taemin when you saw Mark was in a similar form of restraint. Kai had been in the room, casually sitting at the table, trying to get the other to eat.

“Mark…”

“Y/n? Is that you?”

“Yeah I-”

    This time when you tried to approach Taemin kept a tight grip on you. Kai was just on his phone, no interest in what was going on around him. You glared but didn’t get a chance to speak.

“You’re quite disappointing, Mark.”

“Does it look like I care?”

“You made the choice to stay, and yet you remain in your bonds even though you could have escaped them long ago.”

“As if your previous threats haven’t left the impression of not trying shit.”

“I said you shouldn’t leave this place, as you’d have no way of coming back, I never said anything about your restraints.”

“He’s not that smart.” Kai commented. “At this point I think we should spell it out for him.”

“Ya!” Mark countered. “I’m right here!”

“Taemin this isn’t fair.” You said. “I get you want to help, but why are they all kept locked up this way?”

“Ten isn’t.”

“But Mark and Taeyong?”

“Each of your powers need to be treated differently, and these methods surprisingly help achieve that.”

“How!”

“Simple, you heard what Taeyong can do. Mark simply needs to learn how to manipulate his portals in a more flexible way.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve only ever created portals big enough to escape through, never to do anything else, right?”

“So?” Mark questioned. “What’s your point?”

“Make a portal to get the collar off. Either make a portal like a collar to swallow up the dangerous piece, or create a second skin that’s a portal and simply step out of the restraints. You have so much potential and yet you do nothing with it.”

“You expect me to do something like that?”

“If you ever want to get your vision back, yes.”

“Are you insane!”

“This was always my concern with you, your own self-doubt. Y/n, what have you learned?”

“Well… I can read minds…”

“You’ve been doing this shit to her too!”

“No, y/n does require more… intimate sessions.”

“What the hell have you been doing!”

“I’m fine, Mark, I swear.”

“I can’t even look at you right now, how can I be sure?”

“Then get out of your restraints.” Taemin hissed. “I do believe you’re capable.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’d be more threatening if you weren’t in your current state. Also if you weren’t yelling at a wall.”

    Kai chuckled, and Mark didn’t even bother to move, not wanting to make the situation worse. Your feeling of trust was starting to fade, not that it was ever really there, but it wasn’t being built right now either.

“If you want him to be able to manipulate his portals in a different way than he’s used to… shouldn’t he be able to see?”

“Touché.” Kai laughed. “But it’s funny seeing him stumble around.”

“Why did you blind him in the first place?”

“Didn’t want him to just leave.” Taemin said. “Of course he could have left by now, but he shows loyalty by remaining. I suppose you have a point, and I don’t believe he’ll do something stupid. Kai, can you remove the blindfold, the collar stays though.”

    Kai got up and removed the device on Mark’s head. The boy needed a moment to adjust to the light, and then his eyes found you. He appeared relieved to see that you were alright, and you gave him a smile and wave.

“You’re okay?”

“Yup.”

“You’re not lying, right?”

“No, I’m really okay.”

“And you should get to practicing.” Taemin said. “We’ll check in later.”

“Wait-”

    You didn’t get a chance to say more as Taemin escorted you out, Kai coming along as well given he no longer needed to watch over Mark. You stepped away though, not enjoying these visits anymore.

“What?”

“Why do you have to do this? Ten’s not locked up, but the others are?”

“The others don’t exactly like me.”

“And you think this will help?”

“So you rather I let them all free? As if Mark wouldn’t grab you and run the second he had a chance. If they can all learn to do something new then they’d understand I have their best interests in mind.”

“Why not tell the truth instead of being vague? I understand what-”

“You got to see what happened, you have proof that my words are true, they won’t get that.”

“Well… what if I can? I can read minds, what if I can like… project images, and show them?”

“No.”

“I can’t?”

“No I… I’m sure you could… but I’m not onboard with you seeing those memories again…”

“I’d help with this lack of trust.”

“I appreciate that, but you still need to hone your own powers.”

“Right…”

    You really wish it didn’t have to be like this. You just wanted your boys back, but it’s not like you were planning to help them escape either. You started to wonder if maybe they would lose trust in you.

❤

    You did get to see the others more often, although it sucked that Mark was the only one with his vision. Taemin did inform you that they were making progress, and you looked forward to seeing it yourself one day. Out of all of them Taeyong was the one trying the hardest. He knew he could get out of this, or that he had the potential to. His motivation was you, just to see cause he hasn’t had the chance to since he left you with Ten on the train.

    The first part was just creating a duplicate through the pain. He did learn to tolerate it, which certainly took a lot out of him. The hard part though was actually connecting to his double, if that was at all possible. He could feel something about him that was outside his own body. He never noticed it before, but it seemed that his clones didn’t just exist autonomously. That small feeling, he did his best to grab onto it, and just make it stronger. Then to his own amazement he did it.

    Taeyong was no longer in darkness. He needed a moment to adjust, and then he could take in his surroundings. The room was plain, and then he could see himself sitting in the corner, seeing the contraption on his head. He was about to examine it further when the door opened. He caught a glimpse of Baekhyun before a blinding white light shoved him back into darkness. Taeyong gasped, startled by the action and then he felt the pain, as if someone had shot him in the head. It was something like never before, and then he realized he was back in his original body, somehow.

“So… what’s my hair color?”

“Baekhyun? What the fuck just happened?”

“I killed your clone.”

“Why!”

“I thought you were in there.”

“I was! So why would you do that!”

“Can’t let you try to escape, besides, I thought you were used to the pain?”

“I… I… that was…”

“Do you know my hair color? Or did you miss it?”

“No… it’s brown.”

“Bravo.” Baekhyun removed the blindfold. “You get your own eyes back.”

“Did I really just…”

“Die? Possess another body? Yes, very impressive, Taemin will be happy to hear.”

“I didn’t… where’s y/n?”

“Busy with her own training. Although you need to show Taemin your improvement first, so you might want to practice some more.”

“Are you just gonna kill me again?”

“Yeah, but not so often. Good job though, I’m sure y/n would love to see it too.”

    Baekhyun excused himself, completing his task in regards to Taeyong, for the moment. When he stepped out Kai was out in the hall waiting for him.

“So did he really do it?”

“Yup.”

“Nice. When do you think he’ll join us?”

“He needs to get the hang of possessing one of his duplicates first. Then maybe he can control more than one at a time.”

“Ugh, they advance so slow.”

“We’re not the Organization. We’re not pushing them until they break.”

“But how long do we have before the Organization catches up to us? They have nothing better to do than hunt us down right now, and they’re not just gonna kill us.”

“They might if they discover y/n is a telepath.”

“Or they’ll just want to get to her first. We can protect her, but not all of the others at once.”

“We need to trust they’ll get there. Besides, this is exactly why Taemin is so focused on y/n’s training, if she gets a better handle on her powers, then we don’t have to worry about the rest.”

“Do you really think Taemin’s theory will work? It sounds far-fetched, even for him.”

“He can already do so much by bending the rules of his powers, this isn’t just a theory.”

“True, and he’s based it out of jealousy.”

“No.”

“Yes. Come on, y/n’s what the Organization wanted, Taemin was second best. If his plan really does work, you have to admit it’s kinda petty.”

“But it’ll get the job done.”

“At what cost? Y/n?”

“Whatever is necessary.”

(Previous // Next)

[onewfantaesy]

Crime Baby is living up to my expectations. Taemin ever so slightly embracing his dads side is kinda cool. I know he's morally against everything his dads family stands for, but theres got to be some things he takes from heechul. Like the smirk, wave, wink thing! I loved that, perfectly Taemin/heechul style. Does he take any other traits from HC? Is he actually a mini-me!?!

I also feel like HC is very involved with his kids and takes "parenting" serious, likes one on one time, wants the relationship to be good, like to help them and encourage them, make them confident...but he also just happens to like blowing ppl up when they make him mad and getting them hooked on drugs *shrug* lol

Taemin actually is the spitting image of Heechul in this AU! A total mini-me! Heechul brings it up often, mentions as if it’s a cute little quirk that that’s how he realized his past affair had hidden a child from him. It makes Taemin feel sick to his stomach.

Anyways, onto Crime Baby AU

(tw for like general crime family murder I guess lmao)

Taemin learns quickly that Heechul takes his role as head of the family very seriously. Family dinners, family meetings, family calls. And at least once a month, Taemin is summoned for a one-on-one meeting.

It was nerve wracking at first. Heechul always asked what Taemin wanted to do, but it was Heechul who told Taemin to be there, shouldn’t he have something planned? Shouldn’t there be a reason for Taemin to be there? But after just a few meetings together, they quickly find how they best mesh together.

Heechul likes imparting his wisdom on his children. He especially likes passing on this wisdom to Taemin, partially because he’s the youngest and partially because he missed so much time with him. He’s decided these one-on-ones are best spent teaching Taemin the smaller details about being a man.

Taemin finds he actually sort of enjoys it, but mainly because it involves playing a lot of billiards and learning how to handle his liquor. He’s still just a teenager, but Heechul seems insistent on Taemin learning how to be a “smart drinker,” as Heechul phrases it. Taemin doesn’t question it, but he learns quickly which alcohols he likes and which he absolutely despises.

But playing pool is fun, Taemin decides. Sometimes, it’s almost like they’re a normal father and son. Sometimes, Taemin pretends that’s all it is: just normal father and son time. No hidden agenda. No ulterior motive. No hushed phone calls in the other room while Taemin pretends he’s still practicing a trick shot and not listening in on what can only be plans for a new scheme of sorts.

When Heechul comes back into the room, Taemin just smiles and asks if he can have another drink. Heechul smiles back, tucks his phone into his back pocket, and teaches Taemin how to make the drink himself. After a couple drinks and a long night, Taemin is exhausted. He’s tired, and his eyes feel heavy, and he just wants to sleep.

He doesn’t often spend the night at his father’s penthouse, but sometimes Heechul insists. The first night it happened, Taemin was terrified, and he didn’t even know what room he was supposed to sleep in. He didn’t feel comfortable sleeping in one of his half-sibling’s unused bedrooms.

Until Heechul tells him, “This is your room. For you to use anytime you need it.”

Taemin is too tired to resist. The room is spinning and his head hurts and he mumbles a “Thank you” before falling into the bed. He has terrible dreams the first night; confusing, freaky dreams that don’t connect to each other and don’t make sense. He hates sleeping after drinking, but mainly because he never really sleeps. Not well. He ends up waking up the next morning feel like death.

“Hey sleepy head,” Heechul calls softly the next morning, a chuckle escaping his lips as Taemin flops over and groans, covering his eyes with his hands. “Time to get up. Euisoo’s on his way to pick you up.”

It’s how most mornings go, with Heechul telling him when Euisoo is on the way. When Taemin falls stumbles out of bed, it usually also leads to a clap on the shoulder and a, “You did well last night,” before Heechul leaves Taemin to get ready.

It’s incredibly intimidating, but Taemin comes to find it strangely comforting after a while. Heechul listens to him during their one-on-one time, lets Taemin talk about whatever he wants, offers advice if he has any to give. Offers to take care of any problems Taemin might have, with any people who might be causing him trouble. Taemin always declines.

Until one night when he’s seventeen and walking into Heechul’s penthouse, extension freshly put into his hair for an upcoming comeback, his entire body shaking like a leaf and his chest heaving and Euisoo standing next to him, an arm wrapped tightly around him, looking like he wants to hurt someone. It was supposed to be a family meetings. They were late. Everyone was already there. Watching him.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” he manages to ask, his words stuttered and mashed together, Heechul quick to come over to him and find out what happened.

One of the other managers - a senior manager known for being harsh and a hardass - had taken Taemin to get his hair done early that morning, then had to bring him back to record his lines for the new album. Euisoo, despite protesting and arguing that Taemin was typically his responsibility, had been tasked with taking a couple of the other members to a different schedule. By the time he got back, he heard from other staff members how Taemin had made the same mistake in the recording too many times for the manager’s liking and had been “disciplined” for it.

It’s not like it was a new thing. It’s not like Taemin hadn’t gone through the same thing during his trainee days. But this manager was ruthless, was hot-headed, and was clearly on a power trip. He’d never been left alone with this manager before. He’d never not had one of the other members with him or another manager with him when he was with this manager. And now he was traumatized, and he had the bruises to show for it.

Taemin has never seen Heechul as mad as he saw him that night. Like he’d seen red, like the devil was in his eyes. He’d tried to send Taemin off to his room with one of his half-siblings, but Taemin freaked out. He refused to be away from Euisoo, refused to go anywhere without him. But he was also refusing to go back to the dorms that night, so Euisoo stayed with him, kept him safe in his room, and comforted him as best he could while Heechul planned his revenge with the rest of the family.

When the other manager doesn’t show up for work a few days later, Taemin doesn’t think anything of it. Ignores it. Puts it out of his head.

Until his body washes up in a river, stripped of all his clothes, his hands cut off and missing (found washed up in the same river a few days later).

Everyone knows right away it’s related to one of the major crime families, what with the state his body was found in, but no one can find out exactly who or why. No one ever connects it to Taemin. The case quickly goes cold.

Taemin continues pretending it never happened. Continues putting it out of his head. He doesn’t want to know anything about it. Because his family is terrifying, even if they are on his side.

[lunares-city-krp]

Lunares City is now accepting reservations!!

Simply message us reserving your desired face today or fill out the application form to make the process quicker and easier in the long run! As we are new we have a bunch of popular choices open and up for the taking! Being an au group we do have some wanted connections up for grabs too we do suggest taking a look at these before you pick a face/decide your character.

We are a city!au || Semi-lit+ || 18+ || Mewe based rp

Current Reservations!

BTS Jimin, Jungkook

DREAMCATCHER Gahyeon,

EXO Kai,

ONEUS Dongju

ONEWE Dongmyeong

RED VELVET Joy,

SHINEE Taemin,

Have you ever wanted to be free of your current life? Tired of the same old people that never seem to change? Maybe you’re sick of society trying to decide how you should live, who you should love or how you should dress well look no further!! Lunares City was founded for this very reason, located on an island just off of South Korea Lunares became a safe heaven for those in need of a place to be themselves. Although it is considered South Korea still Lunares has it’s own rules, regulations and systems in place. The city became a mismatch of cultures, languages and people none of which would normally come together. Fast forward to modern day and the city thrives in all it’s good and bad glory, those born here have created their own utopia even if they don’t always see it. Those that move here get to rebrand and make themselves reborn into something new, whether you’re looking for the quite mundane life of café worker or are you a top chef looking for a new challenge? Maybe you’re an explosive expert looking for somewhere to fit in or perhaps you are an actor trying to escape the main island either way Lunares has a place for you and who knows you might even find the city lights aren’t always so light after all. 

> Navigation  > Guidelines  > Masterlist  > Wishlist  > Locations 

[guardianofjunmyeon]

Finding Atlantis (part 6)

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description:   20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor,  to  any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man  has  heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But  fewer  men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean,  the key  to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold  should they  find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself.  Thus, the hunt  began.    

A/N: I meant to update last week but my VPN wasn’t working! I couldn’t access tumblr bc it’s blocked here in china but i finally got it fixed lol. This one is long! WARNING(s): Smut + Character Death (??)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

After hours of discussion and blindly heading southeast, you all were finally able to somewhat crack the code of the rhyme and the map.

“Follow the sound of your soul, she’ll call out to you to bring you back to your shoal. That’s clearly about the Atlantis return song. It’s the most important part of all of this. If we don’t get a better handle of when it appears and when it doesn’t we won’t get through the rest of the trails.”

“Trials?”

“Yes, there are three different trials masked in the lyrics of the song. The way back isn’t easy. If you leave Atlantis, you have to prove that you truly want to return,” Yeri replies.

You squint at the map now covered in writing.

“She’ll fight you to prove that your heart is true, to crush you and build you back stronger in her darkest shade of blue,” Sehun reads. “It’s about a storm. A very big one by the sound of it.” He points to an area of the map with nothing but water. “You see this area? It’s known for its unruly currents and unnatural weather patterns. It ranges from snow to thunderstorms large enough to wipe out entire islands.”

Junmyeon grazes his fingers over the map, passing the spot Sehun mentioned and further southeast. “Beautiful songs will call out to confuse the path, to distract you, but remembering your heart will get you through…if we continue beyond the location of the storm we’ll be set to approach Isla de Sirena within a week.”

“Shit,” Baekhyun murmurs.

Yeri looks on in confusion. “Why shit?”

“Isla de Sirena is an island known for luring ships underwater. They crash ships among the rocks with song. They appear as the most beautiful creature that you can imagine; whatever you subconsciously find the most alluring. I don’t know how they do it. Different people can look at the same one and see different things; they trick you that way. Mermaids…sirens, whatever you want to call them. Freaky little bitches.”

“Baekhyun,” Junmyeon admonishes.

“What? They are!”

“So we’ve got to face…beautiful singing women? Oh no the horror,” you gasp jokingly.

Baekhyun pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are so horny, and so stupid all the fucking time.”

“You’re one to fucking talk-”

“Children!” Junmyeon scolds. “Can we please hold off on the flirting until this is over?”

“We aren’t flirting-”

“Anyway!” You and Baekhyun close your mouths in embarrassment. “We’ve gone near Isla de Sirena, once,” Sehun adds grimly, eyebrows pitching angrily. “If you’re able to ignore their voices then you can see them for they are. They’re the ugliest creatures I’ve ever seen in my life.” He shivers.

“So what’s the final trial?” Baekhyun asks, back to contributing to the conversation and not being a pain in your ass.

“She’ll finally take you in her arms again, cradled and safe where all life began…” Yeri reads. A sigh. “We aren’t completely sure. It’s something about a rebirth?”

You scratch your chin.

“Maybe it’s about being drowned.”

Everyone turns their eyes to you.

“What?” you ask; your wide eyes look back at everyone staring at you as if you said something crazy. You point to the map in the general area where you think you all may end up. “There’s no land anywhere near here, and the city is underwater. Born from water, taken away from water, and then reclaimed by the water. If you leave, you must be drowned and reborn into an Atlantian again right? Why else would you forget your memories and connection to the sea the longer you’re away?”

“You are reborn in the place where life began…” Baekhyun mumbles. “You might be right. The final trial is a drowning of some kind. There’s a reason only Atlantian’s are the only people who can reach the city.” Baekhyun smacks you on the shoulder. “You’re not completely useless!”

You frown and hold your shoulder.

Bastard.

~~~

Candles cover the deck of the ship as the sun sets on the horizon. You watch somberly as each member of your crew places an object that reminds them of Taemin, of Amber, of Kun, and of Jaehyun in each of the four caskets meant to sail them to the other side.

Their bodies are wrapped in cloth to save everyone the trauma of facing their decomposing faces. Flowers, candies, articles of clothes surround each body with the things that made them who they were in life.

And will hopefully comfort them in the land of death.

Your most artistically inclined deckhand, Ten, places a portrait of each of them in their respective boat. An image to match the body.

“Jaehyun was always smiling; he worked hard as a gunner. He’d hoped one day to be master gunner of the ship.” Mark stands over the casket. “He uh, he never said much but he had the most imaginative mind of any person I ever met,” he says with a sad smile. “When the cannon backfired and killed him, it was quick, so at least he didn’t suffer for long. Farewell friend. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Luna takes over where Mark left off, standing in front of Amber’s casket. “I’ve known Amber since we were kids. She was a strange one,” she laughs. “She was very head strong and opinionated even when she was wrong. We both knew that working in the artillery was going to be rough, that it would be dangerous, but I know that she loved this job more than anything. She had a family with us, and she died where she would have wanted, I think.” Tears fill her eyes as she sits back down in the circle of crewmen.

“Kun…was like an older brother to me. He would tell me that I was getting on his nerves, but he would always take care of me…uh…take care of all of us in the best way he could. Every meal he served, every wound he healed, was done with care. Unfortunately, sickness isn’t as kind. He tended to Taemin with his last breath, tried to heal with all he had until he had nothing else to give. I’m going to miss him and his cheesy magic tricks.” Ten takes in a deep breath to keep his voice from wavering. “I hope he’s taken care of with as much love as he gave us.”

You can hear people holding back their tears. Sniffles and soft sobs escaping into the air every few seconds.

This time you stand as the representative to send off Taemin. You avoid everyone’s eyes and focus your gaze on his wrapped body and the trinkets around him. “Taemin was one of my earliest crewmen. I may have owned the ship, but Taemin was the one who knew best how she moved. He piloted with a grace and confidence I have still yet to achieve. I don’t have a single doubt that he’ll be able to guide himself to the other side without issue. He had a natural skill for movement.” You focus on an object nestled snuggly at his side. “I just hope he doesn't lose any of the things we’re sending with him the way he always loses his money pouches.” You manage a smile.

A couple of people chuckle softly, sadly.

“As Captain of the Storm Chaser, I release the four of you from duty.” You raise your gun in the air. “I couldn’t have asked for braver, hardworking, and loyal men.” You fire a single shot into the air.

It rings through the night.

Everyone stands, begins to close the wooden coffins, and Junmyeon soaks them in gunpowder and oil.

You watch the coffins get lowered into the water one by one. As they begin to float away, you, Mark, Luna, and Ten line up along the edge of the ship.

“Ready,” you all cock your guns. “Aim.”

“Fire.”

The coffins alight with flames. Yixing lights a single firework and it shoots into the air and covers the sky in bright yellow sparks.

May these lights guide them on their future paths.

No one moves until the coffins are far out of sight, their flames no longer visible. Until nothing but darkness rests in the distance. With heavy eyes, and heavier hearts, you all pull away from the railing.

Those who were close to the ones sent away cry openly and you allow everyone the rest of the night to rest and mourn as they see fit. Crying, shaking, screaming.

People cope in different ways.

As everyone disperses below deck you see Yixing rubbing Jongin’s back as the two of them cry clinging tightly to the other.

You know that Yixing grew up with Taemin. Yixing had been the one to recommend him for the crew because of their shared history. Knowing now that Yixing knew Jongin at the same time, you realize that Jongin must have known Taemin closely as well.

Leaving them to console one another, you walk away.

The stories of their deaths, of their lives, makes your heart a bit less heavy. Knowing that they died doing what they wanted, and not because life was stolen from them in situations counter to their personality eases a bit of the pain.

Minutely.

It still hurts, but the anger is no longer there. Just sadness.

This is the life of pirates after all.

Junmyeon has hidden himself away somewhere on the ship, as he always does when he wants to cry without being found, so you make your way towards the food storage for a drink. You need it after today.

People cope in different ways.

The stairs creak as you descend. One of the lanterns is already on, bright near the liquor storage. It shouldn’t surprise you. You wouldn’t be the only person who wants to drink to numb a bit of the pain.

What does surprise you is who you find hunched over with his face in his hands.

“Baekhyun?”

His head lifts and you immediately take notice of the red in his visible eye and face in the dim lighting. He seems alarmed to have been caught. He looks away in shame.

You sit down in front of him.

The bottle of whiskey at his side is half empty; you reach for it and take a sip.

For your men.

Silence shrouds you both.

You feel the need to speak. To clear the air. Whether you are doing it for him or for yourself you aren’t sure. “No one blames you, you know,” you say so softly that it almost blends into the silence. You hope he doesn’t hear.

But of course he does.

He looks over with anger. “I never said it was my fault.”

“You didn’t have to. You’re down here drinking alone after a funeral. This screams ‘this is all my fault’ you emo fucker.”

He snatches the bottle from your hands.

“Look, okay. No one thinks it’s your fault. You heard the stories. Yeah, you guys shot my ship, but their deaths weren’t directly a result of that. Things went wrong; I will accept that it was just a shot to immobilize us. If any of us thought you a murderer, in this case, we would have hung you by your neck long ago.” You forcefully grab the bottle back with a frown. “There’s plenty of other shit for you to feel guilty over. Like the time you shot me…or stabbed me…or left me on that island for dead.”

“I swear to the Gods-”

“The point is…this one isn’t on you. You don’t need to carry this guilt. Not this time.” You take a quick drink. “If however,” you point your finger at him menacingly, “this was on purpose, then I take all that back and I will kill you right fucking here I swear to the Gods.”

The bottle is taken back. “It wasn’t,” he admits, softly, angry. A swig. “It wasn’t on purpose,” he says again tiredly.

His honesty takes you by surprise. Baekhyun has killed just as many people as you have in your life. If he had tried to kill them, well that would be expected. But for him to be this affected by the accidental deaths? That’s surprising.

“What are you doing down here anyway?” he asks.

“Do you really think you’re the only person on this ship who hides down here drinking? You’re talking to the master!” you boast. “And it’s my ship you ungrateful wrench.” You finish off what’s left of the whiskey and reach for a bottle of golden rum tucked securely on a shelf. Uncorking it with your teeth, you hold it in the air between you. “To Taemin, Kun, Amber, and Jaehyun!”

It burns like hell itself going down.

You hold it out for Baekhyun with an expectant eyebrow raise. You wait.

He grabs it gently. “To Taemin, Kun, Amber, and Jaehyun,” he repeats in a murmur. He makes a noise of pain as the alcohol burns its way down his throat. “What the fuck is this?”

You shiver as the alcohol settles uncomfortably in your stomach. “It's the bad rum I think.” You cough violently. “Oh fuck I think I’m going to die,” you say clutching your stomach.

His wild laugh echoes in the dark space. A bit of the gloom lifts.

You let your hands fall from your stomach while you take in the relaxed happiness on his candlelit face. His eye crinkled in a crescent, shining with mirth. You don’t think you’ve seen him laugh like that since the first time you met him.

He’s pretty. You’d have to be stupid not to admit it. From his soft and shiny hair, to his cheeks that bunch up when he smiles. From his big dumb ears to all of the little moles that dot his body.

The bottle goes back up to his ridiculously pink lips and he laughs as it hurts his throat just as bad as the first sip.

All it takes is a second of thoughtless, drunken courage for you to lean forward and quickly press your lips against his, cutting off his giggles.

When you pull pack, the happiness on his face has made way for shock and then once more to nothing.

“Don’t kiss me,” he says tonelessly. His voice is serious, but you see the spark of challenge in his eye.

Ignoring the part of you that always tells you that jumping headfirst into him is a bad idea, you lean in again, slower. You brace your hands on his thighs and feel them tense beneath your palms. He stares at your lips and you watch enrapt as his tongue pokes out to wet his bottom lip.

You can feel your skin vibrating from the proximity to him, and you freeze; a breath away from meeting skin with skin. Your eyes glance up to meet his and you can see the want, the restlessness, and something else you can’t quite place in the dark.

As if waiting any longer would be torturous, he leans forward impatiently to press his lips against yours. The bottle of rum falls to the ground and spills onto the floorboards of the storage room.

You don’t care.

You push harder; open your mouth to let his tongue slide against yours in a way that sends tingles through every nerve in your body. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the touch of sadness, but something feels different about this time.

You crawl onto his lap, driven purely by instinct and press every inch of your body against his. Heat seeps through your clothes and you pant longingly as he pulls you closer by your neck, his other hand grabbing you roughly by your ass. A wanton moan escapes your mouth and he pulls you closer, rougher. Breaths puff into each other’s mouths as you messily connect your lips over and over again. It’s uncoordinated. It’s wet. It’s exactly what you need.

You thread your fingers in his hair and yank his head back; diving to lick and suck along the column of his neck, to the sensitive spot behind his ear that you know drives him crazy. His grip on your body tightens as he releases a shaky groan and rolls his hips up against yours. Anticipation thrums through your body. To every noise, to every touch your body responds in earnest.

This is nothing but a distraction. For you. For the both of you, you don’t care. Neither of you have to think as clothes are removed. The sadness can be ignored as you claw against his skin and coax his tongue into your mouth. It’s all movement. All feeling. All lust.

People cope in different ways.

It always happens like this. You argue. You fight. You threaten each other. You fuck until you’re both exhausted and too tired to care about the years of hatred between you. For these few moments all you are, are bodies. Bodies moving in tandem, kissing the right places, touching the right spots, connecting at the right angle. Like this things are easy, wordless.

You each just understand how the other works.

Every movement is matched in urgency, in desperation. Touch for touch. Kiss for kiss. Sound for sound. Push for pull. Gasps, moans, whimpers are muted as best you can in the quiet of the storage. You don’t realize that you’re subconsciously avoiding aggravating the stitches that lie there, still fresh, in his side as your hands leave burning paths along his skin.

Just for now, you can allow yourselves to feel that maybe you don’t hate each other as much as you let on.

~~~

“Get your own fucking telescope!”

“Where am I going to get one? We’re in the middle of the god forsaken ocean; do you expect me to pull it out of my ass?”

“You should have brought yours with you if you wanted to use one so bad! That doesn’t give you permission to just take my shit whenever you feel like it. You aren’t Captain here.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“I’ll do worse than that. Seulgi, get me my pistol.”

“Captain I don’t think-”

“You think you’re going to shoot me? Chanyeol where’s my gun?!”

“I’m gonna shoot you right in your last fucking working eye you dirty fucking son of a-”

A hand covers your mouth before you can finish your curse. “Baekhyun, you’re needed in the kitchen. Kyungsoo is asking for you.” You and Baekhyun share one last deadly glare before he stalks off and you’re released.

“What the hell Minseok?” You turn on your gunner, anger from your argument with Baekhyun being projected instead onto him. It has to go somewhere.

He crosses his arms over his chest, unbothered.

“So you’re in love with him right? That's why you’re acting like this?”

Your eyes bulge out of your skull. “I’m sorry, what did you just ask me?”

He sighs, grabs you by your arm and drags you all the way to the infirmary. You’re forced to sit down stupefied as Minseok stares at you expectantly. “The two of you are exhausting to watch. If you weren’t two of our most capable men we would have tied you both up and put you in the brig until we found Atlantis days ago,” he says evenly.

You scoff, mouth agape.

“I would tell you to fuck and move on, but seeing as that seems to be what triggers a fresh round of arguments, I’m going to ask that you two refrain from ever having sex on the ship again in the future.”

You splutter embarrassed. Your skin heats at having been called out so boldly. “W-what?! How- Wh- How’d you find out?”

“Any time the two of you have sex, you spend the next month or so telling all of us how much you hate him, how you’re going to kill him, blah blah blah. After a while you stop being as vocal about it, but then we make port, usually at Arae, and he happens to be there, then BAM we're back where we started. You’re obsessed with each other.”

You flush. “We are not,” you try to deny. His face is unimpressed. “I don't know where you got the idea that either of us feel anything but pure hatred for the other. Okay yeah, we’ve had sex a couple of times. So what? It doesn’t mean anything. I’ve had sex with half of Arae.” You cross your arms defiantly.

“As soon as this is all over, we’ll part ways...in 6 months we’ll go to Arae for a bit, as we always do, you’ll have ‘angry hate sex’ yet again and then spend the next month being pissy over his existence. No one who genuinely hates someone spends so much time a) around them willingly and b) obsessing over them when they aren’t around,” Minseok says matter-of-factly. “I think you should both admit you’re in love with each other so we can all move on.”

“Minseok!”

“I agree,” Jongin’s head pops up from behind the singular bed in the room.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, heat again filling your cheeks at the extra witness to this interrogation.

“I work here?”

“I mean hiding behind the bed!”

“Oh…I uh tripped and then the door opened and you guys started talking and I was too afraid to get up and interrupt,” he says quickly.

You squint in judgment.

“This whole…” Minseok waves his hand around as he searches for the word, “…archenemies thing is getting old, Captain. If you really wanted to kill him, you would have done it already. And I’m sure the same goes for Byun. Right Jongin?” he turns to face the younger.

“Yeah,” Jongin agrees with a shrug.

You can’t believe your ears. “He just…hasn’t done anything worth actually killing him over yet. He’s useful sometimes…for information…” you murmur lamely. The excuse is weak even to you.

“You are both dumb and annoying…and also super transparent. Whenever you injure the other, it’s always in a place that won’t kill or do permanent damage. Don’t act like it’s just been luck that you’ve both managed to miss any kind of serious blow from the other. You’re both deadly fighters, you know how to kill someone if you want them dead.”

“He ditched me in cuffs on that island-”

“You had the key to the cuffs,” Jongin chimes in unhelpfully.

Minseok rolls his eyes at your words. “Yes, and again, in a survivable situation. Was there not food and shit on that island?”

You open and close your mouth pathetically.

“Exactly. It’s not like you’re an incompetent dumbass. You would be able to find your way off even if you hadn’t been found. He didn’t blow the ship to bits like he could have a month ago, you haven’t slit his throat like you could have many months ago. You both dance around injuring each other, making the other’s life difficult, and fucking. You’re in love, please just accept it. I don’t care if you’re into BDSM and blood play or whatever freaky shit gets you guys off, but I would at least appreciate it if you kept it in your bedroom.”

Jongin nods from the back. “I just think it’s obvious,” he adds simply.

“Pff…Psh…Tch…I’m-I am appalled that you would talk to your Captain like this.”

“I know, I know. You could have us hanged, shot, thrown in the ocean, whatever…but the fact of the matter is that you aren’t going to do any of that, and you know that we’re right. Now, I’m going to go make sure Chanyeol hasn’t shot any of my men with any of my valuable pistols, and I’ll leave you to your duties, Captain.” Minseok nods his head with finality and exits the room.

Mutineer…

You glare at Jongin for ganging up on you. He flushes timidly. “I’m uh…gonna go see if Kyungsoo needs any help…Captain.” With a nervous smile he dashes from the room.

This is mutiny…

~~~

The ship sails southeast for days before anything alerts you all of the impeding first trial. The weather is normal, the water is normal, and then all of a sudden, the winds become violent.

“Captain, I think we’re getting close to whatever the first test is…” Yixing says tremulously.

The wind whips around you and the sails of the ship flap violently. There’s no way to tell which way the wind is blowing from as it whips from what feels like every side simultaneously. The ship tilts dangerously to one side.

“Junmyeon…that song telling you anything right about now?” You ask anxiously.

Your first mate looks out on the horizon with worried eyes. “We’re going the right way…” is all he says.

“Helpful,” Yixing murmurs sarcastically.

There is no visible sign of a storm; nothing seems out of the ordinary outside of the unnatural winds. The crew is already reefing your regular sails and raising the storm jib and trysail. If the winds get any stronger, which they will, they’ll catch your regular sails and capsize your ship before the waves even begin to hit.

“Who can man the helm? Who’s the best pilot on board right now?” you ask Yixing.

Yixing looks around a bit panicked. “I don’t know… I don’t know Captain.” The ship lurches to the side.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you scan the ship. Most of the men are working on preparing the proper sails, securing any moving parts, and making sure the wind alone won’t turn the ship on her side. You see Baekhyun working with Wendy on securing lose lines. You haven’t talked to him since your lecture from Minseok all those days ago. “Junmyeon, go check to make sure we have enough ballast in the hold. We’re going to be rocking and we need to pray that we have enough weight to keep us as stable as possible.”

He rushes away; you try to think of what else you can do to prepare. There’s no way to tell how long this storm is going to last, how bad it’s going to be, and you would rather prepare for the worst.

A sea anchor.

“Johnny!” The boatswain is immediately at your side. “Take whoever you need and deploy the sea anchor. We should have one somewhere in the hold. I need you to work fast, but be thorough.”

The ship is going to have to sail against the wind and against the waves. The wind will push the ship off course, but to survive a storm like this the ship needs to keep its bow to the waves. If a wave catches the ship on her side or back, there’s no chance for survival. You’ll have to use your sea anchor and just pray that the Gods are feeling merciful.

“Baekhyun!” you shout. He turns immediately at the sound of your voice. “How good are you at the wheel?”

“I’m decent.”

“How’s your tracking? Your jibbing? Can you keep the ship from capsizing in this storm?”

He looks up in the sky when the sound of thunder shakes the floorboards. “My jibbing isn't the best, but I think I can keep her afloat,” he promises.

The feeling of static fills the air. The hair on your body rises to attention. Another rumble of thunder rolls across the ocean, louder than before. The sky is darker than it was 5 minutes ago.

There isn’t much longer until the storm hits.

“I need you at the wheel. I’m trusting my ship to you. Don’t let me down.” With a determined nod, Baekhyun is off. You see your first strike of lighting. Bright blue and not far off.

Chanyeol runs up to you to assure you that all of the cannons, ammunition, and artillery are properly secured. “Tell Minseok to get all his men below deck in the storm rooms. Secure any hatch and pray to the Gods that we make it through this,” you instruct. He nods and runs off.

When a storm hits, it hurts more than it helps to have people above deck. Three people would do the job just as well as all 20. Half of weathering a storm is the training and skill of the crew; and the other half is just pure luck.

The beginning patters of rain begin to pelt the ship. You run back up to the helm where Baekhyun has stationed himself.

The ocean gets choppy, picks up ferocity. The ship leans starboard. Baekhyun has never steered your ship, and truthfully, you have no idea whether or not he can actually steer through a storm. You’ve never seen him at the wheel of any ship in all the years you’ve known him.

“Do you think we’ll make it through this?” you ask.

“Honestly…I don’t know,” he admits. “We have enough sea room; we won’t crash into anything this far out. I just hope we can pick up enough speed before the waves start to grow.”

Junmyeon reappears, with Kyungsoo at his side, both out of breath. “We’ve prepared all that we can. The sea anchor is deployed, we’ve got a decent amount of ballast, the jib is ready to be backwinded, and the crew is all prepared for the rocking. What’s the plan?”

“Heaving to,” Baekhyun says simply. He swipes at his bangs, heavy with water and clinging to this forehead. “We keep the bow to the waves, keep close to the wind, and then lock the helm in place.”

“Won’t we broadside?!”

“No, if we were to lie ahull, we would broadside,” Kyungsoo supplies, blocking his eyes from the rain picking up in ferocity. “By heaving to, we can keep the ship from going parallel to the waves and capsizing. We’ll have to stay above deck to correct it if the wind or waves suddenly change. Since you’ve got a sea anchor we’ve got more chance of keeping the ship sailing straight into the waves rather than along them.”

“If heaving to doesn’t work, we try to run off downwind. As the wind increases we’ll have to slow down the ship as much as we can so that we don’t dive straight into the wave in front of us.” A bolt of lightning hits the waves. The rain gets harder.

“We would die…” You say unhelpfully. Lighting blasts in front of you and the waves crash angrily against the ship’s sides.

“Exactly. So if we run off, we’re going to need more than the four of us to throw whatever heavy lines you have off the stern,” Baekhyun’s voice rises to be heard over the increasingly loud winds and waves.

“As a last result, we’ll lie ahull and just fucking pray that when we capsize the ship holds for long enough to keep all of us alive,” Kyungsoo shouts.

You exhale shakily as another three bolts of lightning flash across the sky.

Poseidon be kind to us all.

You leave Baekhyun with the job of steering the ship against the waves that grow in size and power by the second.

At Kyungsoo’s instruction, Junmyeon is in charge of keeping the jib backwinded, and you reef the trysail as soon as it becomes clear that it’s going to be a hindrance in the grand scheme of things. Kyungsoo stands at Baekhyun’s side correcting course when he gets thrown off balance. Baekhyun does the same as Kyungsoo is knocked to the side in turn.

The waves become brutal, rocking the ship so hard that it’s nearly impossible to keep on your feet for more than 10 seconds at a time.

The wind finally sets in a single direction, fiercer than anything you’ve faced, and the general direction of the waves becomes apparent. The ship rocks violently from side to side and then immediately forward and back. You’re thrown into the foremast by the unexpected direction change with enough force to knock the wind out of your body. You gasp in pain. You get up on wobbling legs and try to breathe even as the water falls so fast and heavy around you that it feels equivalent to drowning.

You can’t see more than two feet ahead of yourself.

Think. Think.

There is rope at your feet, secured to the mainmast of the ship. You untie it with cold, wet fingers and hold it tight as you walk to the helm. The ship crashes into another large wave and you fall to your knees as water washes over the bow of the hull, covers the deck in freezing water and pitches the ship forwards. You stand up, shivering but determined. You tie the rope around your own waist to help you keep note of where you’ve come from.

Getting to the helm is a challenge, but you make it. Junmyeon is helping Baekhyun and Kyungsoo lock it in place.

“We should head below deck!” You shout as loud as you can. Thunder and lightning work in tandem to drown out your voice. To remind you of who is louder. Who has more power. You’re soaked to the bone.

Each man above deck is in a similar state. “We’re going below deck!” Junmyeon shouts. “We think heaving to may work.” The ship lurches dangerously to the right.

“Quick! Let’s go,” Kyungsoo screams, hair clinging to his forehead in inky black tendrils.

You use the rope to guide you. It feels as though you’re swimming through the air with the amount of resistance the winds and rain are putting up. Kyungsoo makes it to the hatch that leads below first. You follow behind, climbing down the ladder with shaking limbs. Water leaks through the boards, but it’s a welcome change from the brutality of facing Mother Nature directly.

You gasp for breath, finally able to breathe without also inhaling water, and look around the space for the ship’s emergency supplies. The ship dips, your stomach lurches.

Freezing water streams into the room from the open hatch above. You realize belatedly that there are only two of you in the compartment. Baekhyun and Junmyeon haven’t made it down.

You’re thrown to the ground when the ship dips without warning.

Clattering catches your attention as Junmyeon is swept into the room with a fresh rush of water. “Baekhyun fell overboard!” Junmyeon screams. He crashes against the ground. The sky screams.

What?

Kyungsoo turns away from opening the hatch down to a lower level of the ship to gape at Junmyeon’s words in horror.

Gasping, soaked, Junmyeon looks around the compartment frantically.

You’re moving before you have a chance to think.

You vaguely hear your name being called out from behind, but you don’t turn around. Rope still secured around your waist, you run, slip, stumble, over to the closest life boat. As fast as your shaking hands can work, you cut yourself free of the mainmast and tie the end of the rope not tied to your body to the dinghy.

You slice through the thick ropes holding the dinghy to the side of the ship with an urgency you’ve never felt. Water hits you head on, chilling you to the bone.

The final rope snaps and you and the dighy fall into the water with the force of landing on cement. Something is broken, but your adrenaline is pumping so violently that you can’t feel the pain. It doesn’t register.

Doesn’t matter.

You look around frenzied. The water is pitch black and moving too fast. The rain pelts your skin. It stings, burns, blurs your vision.

The waves are too big for him to survive out here on his own.

They’re too big for you to survive in your search for him.

The sky roars.

The waves crash, flip your boat once, twice.

You settle upright for the second time when, by the grace of the Gods, you see his white shirt illuminated against the dark water by a strike of lightning. You row frantically as a wave begins to swell. You nearly scream in relief when you reach him, but the sound dies as your heart sinks.

He’s not moving.

And he’s face down.

With all the energy you can muster, you pull him into your little boat. You take a few seconds you catch your breath, then you realize the height at which the wave has lifted you. It begins to cascade down; instinctively, you wrap your arms around Baekhyun’s unmoving form and brace yourself for the crash.

It’s dizzying.

It hurts.

It’s terrifying.

You hold your breath, close your eyes, hold onto the man in your arms with all you have, and wait for the water to stop jostling you around so violently. The water seems to calm slightly, so you open your eyes.

The water is dark, and then bright. Black, and then illuminated by lighting.

Your chest tightens as your need for oxygen reaches desperation. You maneuver yourself beneath the water enough to hold Baekhyun with one arm and swim to the top with the other.

You break the surface and gasp for air desperately.

You pull your rope and the boat appears at your side, thankfully upright. You lift Baekhyun aboard first, and then with heavy limbs, you topple on top of him. You don’t give yourself a chance to catch your breath before you’re leaning over him checking for signs of life.

You lower your ear to his chest. You can’t tell if he’s breathing. If his heart is beating.

“Come on Byun. Don’t die on me like this,” you beg. You repeatedly push against his chest, the way you were taught to restart a heart. After a few beats you press your ear to his chest again to listen for a change.

Nothing.

“Fuck. Come on…come on,” you pant.

You pinch his nose and lean down to cover his mouth with yours, filling his lungs with the air that he’s unable to take in on his own. His chest rises each time you exhale into his mouth. You go back to pumping your locked hands against his chest. A wave knocks you on your side. The boat stays upright.

You exhale into his mouth again, once, twice. You beg the rain to let up. You beg the waves to grow smaller.

You beg his heart to start beating.

He jerks and water spurts from his mouth. Relief hits you so hard that all the energy left in your body is expelled and you sag forward and land directly onto his chest.

You can finally hear the dull thumping of his heart. You can feel the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

At last, you can take a second to just breathe.

The small boat continues to jerk around, but it’s clear that the worst of the storm has passed. The waves now are shallow and choppy. The rain has lessened to nothing but a drizzle. The thunder rumbles farther and farther in the distance.

And Baekhyun’s heartbeat gets stronger.

You close your eyes, and let exhaustion overcome you, lulled into sleep by the beat of his heart and the rocking of the boat.

[dibidibifiction]

A Hundred-dollar Bill: PART 1

Warning: foul language Word count: 1.5k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.

masterlist

“Mmm, Y/n, these are delicious!” Kibum exclaims as he takes one more full bite of my homemade triple chocolate cookies.

“Hand me one!” Taemin says, concentrating on the television screen where he and Minho are playing PS4.

“I'm really glad you like it. I’ve always loved baking,” I say to Kibum while joining him on Minho’s bed, ignoring Taemin. “This is actually my first time baking again ever since after my mom passed long ago. If you want I could—”

“Yeah!” Minho roars in the middle of his basement bedroom, making me jump. “I won, motherfucker!”

“I guess you're happy now?” Taemin mocks him while throwing the controller on the couch. Minho doesn’t ever let it go every time he loses a game. He would force his opponent to play more of FIFA 18 with him until he finally wins.

Minho continues to yell victoriously while he runs around the room with both of his hands in the air like an Olympic champion. He proceeds to Kibum and I on the bed. He jumps, and lands on us belly first.

“Ah!” I shriek in cramping pain, his boney hips hitting my thigh. “What the hell!”

Kibum, who doesn’t even look up from his phone, scrunches his forehead in irritation. “Hey, get off!”

While Minho annoys us even more by moving all his limbs like he’s swimming, together with his contagious high-pitched laugh, an idea comes to mind. With all the strength I have, I heavily climb on top of him, sitting on his butt to pin him down. I avenge, starting to poke and scratch his sides up and down.

“Shit, no!” Now laughing even louder because of the tickling, he suddenly draws his whole heavy body to roll to the side, making me crash onto Kibum’s shin. Now he’s the one pinning me down. Before I know it, Taemin jumps in and starts tickling me with his fingers, switching back and forth my neck and my stomach. It’s like they planned to destroy me.

“What did I ever do to you, Taemin!” I scream at him breathlessly, shaking my whole body in a struggle to escape the boys’ strong grasp.

“Hey! Would you guys stop that?” Kibum, the one who bitches the most, shakes up from the bed and transfers to the sofa where the other two boys were playing video games. “Why am I even friends with you?” he complains, taking another one of my cookies from their box on the side table.

Minho and Taemin stop what they’re doing. Breathless but are still laughing at me. 

I’m finally free, exhausted from their physical bullying. I look like I’ve just had rough sex and got all fucked up in bed. “He’s right. Why am I even friends with you?” I sulk. I am sick of always being the weakest target. I blow my messed up hair away from my face as I get up and follow Kibum to the couch. I wrap my arms around him and bury my face in his neck. “Kibum, save me.”

“That’s on you, babe. That’s what you get from bringing us all together in the first place,” he says, as sassy as ever. 

Oh, right. I did introduce them to one another. I met them all separately. In different places and different times, but all in the same year. Two years ago.

I first encountered Kibum on Instagram. I followed him and commented on his IGTV about easy outfit hacks. It’s from him where I learned how to cut my jeans stylishly when they’re too long, or turn old clothes into good-as-new ones. He is brilliant. I even sent him a private message to tell him that, and we ended up hitting it on.

A few days after that, I ran into him on the streets of the city. I’m genuinely surprised that he recognized me, chatted me up and practically forced me to have lunch with him. He fell comfortable with me that same day and blurted out all his frustrations about being stuck in life. He had been wanting to go to fashion school but money was too tight and the influencing career wasn’t really working. I was weirded out at first since I’m not really good at making friends. But this guy appreciated me instantly just because of my comment on his post. I don’t get that a lot. He said that I was only one of the few who constantly followed him and actually cared. Plus, I was the only one who's close by. 

He’s been doing Instagram for years but his audience had grown too slowly, which I didn’t understand. Kibum’s work was absolutely impressive and effective. 

We had been having dinner at the same café, where we had lunch for the first time, almost every evening since then. We just connected.

Taemin used to be a famous pop singer but his career fucked up because of rumors gone wrong about him using drugs to appear happy and funny in reality shows. 

It was a late night, just around two months after I met Kibum, a man with bleach blond hair in a dark hoodie bumped into me for running from men with huge cameras. In my attempt to help out, I ran after him and pulled him up into an alley where he’d be hardly seen. However, my plan failed and he started to panic. When the paparazzi was gaining on us, I started panicking as well. So without extra thinking, I pushed him onto the wall and made out with him. That way, they’d be too uncomfortable to even look and just puzzledly proceed to different directions. 

Taemin stayed on my couch that same night and disappeared the next morning. On my way home from work a few days later, he randomly approached me to borrow money for some errands—which I did lend him—and offered to pay triple. I immediately and strongly declined that payment. Instead, I asked him to have dinner with me and Kibum at the café. 

We, including Taemin himself, expected that he’d just eat with us only for a few days, but he figured it was a safe place where almost no one crazy could recognize him and chase after him, especially when he dyed his hair back to its natural color. 

Since then, I’ve got two best friends by my side.

Minho is the son of my boss—well, former boss—who is the CEO of the company I worked for, which he’d soon inherit. He hated the company. Hell, he hated his father. So did I, which is why I quit just recently. 

Minho and I bonded over cigarette breaks every four P.M., right before my work hours ended. I’d then head to the café to meet up with Kibum and Taemin. 

One afternoon, he just invited himself to join us since he claimed that he had nowhere else to go. 

Just then, our little group stopped growing in numbers and started growing something tight and unbreakable. We would learn about each other’s hardships and be there for one another. We would celebrate every little achievement. The bond that we had was just very natural and unexpected. Some of us had fights but they were never too serious and we would realize that our friendship is always bigger than anything. We are the broken pieces that are mended together by one another.

“Hey, here’s an idea,” I announce to no one in particular after a moment of silence.

“I hope it’s not another sketchy party like last time,” Kibum grumbles. He is laying on the sofa, using my lap as his pillow.

“I heard the family I used to babysit for is going away for the weekend. What do you guys say?”

I sigh when nobody says anything. “They have a pool. So…” I trail off, waiting for somebody to be excited as I am.

“There’s no way I’m breaking and entering someone else’s house,” Minho blurts out.

“We’re not breaking anything, we’re just entering,” I shrug.

“Yeah, Hyung. Stop being a wuss,” Taemin pats Minho’s back once. “I’m in! There’s no reputation to ruin anyway,” he shrugs as he walks towards the couch and sits under Kibum’s feet, taking my side.

I turn to Kibum, who is biting dead skin off his nails, pretending not to hear us. “Fine!” he rolls his eyes as he sits up. “I’m in too. Just for one night, right? We’re not staying there the entire weekend. My life is fucked up enough. I’m not going to jail.”

“Yes!” Taemin and I high five. We three then look to Minho. We are not taking no for an answer. 

“Oh, what the hell,” he gives in. I love that he doesn't need much convincing. He stands up, and runs towards us. Once again, he flops his wings, jumps, and touches down on all three of us. 

There was loud laughter, which I always love experiencing with these people. Next thing I know is we are group hugging. 

“So, when do we go?” Minho asks when he pulls away.

I smile cockily. “Tonight.”

PART 2

[iridescentxstars]

no manners — ch. two

➳ credit to @xiuminscheeks for this gif <3 ➳ published: 20.12.19 ➳ mafia!au || power!au || parent!au || genre: angst || fluff || smut || violence || rated: m ➳ pairing: kim jongin x reader ➳ summary: You moved to the city with your child because you needed to start a new life. Jongin lives a dangerous life but it’s a life that he wouldn’t change. You are the opposite of each other and yet, exactly what the other one needs - even if you don’t want to be. ➳ word count: 3.8k ➳ warnings: swearing, mafia activity, mentions of drugs and all around bad guy plotting

No Manner Mini Masterlist || Prev | Next >

“Everyone in position?” Sehun presses his ear piece and communicates with everyone, who all chime in that they are where they need to be. He’s got a few men with him ready for when they reach the container, he knows that he needs to take them out quickly and make this go smoothly so it means he’s on high alert. The sound of a truck approaching causes Sehun to look through his binoculars and he sees Jongin and Yixing pulling up to the gate.

Jongin leans over and shows the identification card to the camera and smiles as he waits; his fingers tap on the steering wheel as he waits for the all clear to come through, Jongdae wouldn’t screw this up and it shows when the buzzer sounds and the gates begin to open. “Have a good night,” Jongin grins as he moves the truck towards the area of the yard where the container is being held.” Yixing squints to see the figures moving, getting the container open and it’s clear that they currently have no clue what’s going on. “It might be smooth sailing, Sehun.”

Shaking his head, Sehun indicates for his men to move closer, keeping low and stealth and moving towards their vantage point. “Just stick to the plan, Kai. Don’t fuck around and think you know better; we don’t need them getting spooked because you decided to teleport around.”

“Hey,” Jongin whispers harshly into his mic piece, “that was an accident.” He doesn’t like to be reminded about how he screwed up a few months ago because he caught a cold, “you know I was sick.”

“Well, maybe you should wear more clothes instead of walking around like a stripper.” Sehun retorts until there’s a silence order from Minseok because he’s getting a headache having to hear them bicker over the comms. “Sorry, Xiumin,” they both respond.

Using his power to distract the Triad, knocking things around so they can move around and take them out quietly without alerting the security, Sehun and his men are quick to take out the opposition by the time Jongin and Yixing reverse the truck to the container. They know that the word will travel around quickly, that Taemin will find out that his goods were hijacked and Sehun’s already preparing for there to be a massive backlash for this but what’s in their hands won’t be in their enemy’s hands.

“Everyone get in the truck,” Sehun commands, looking around quickly to make sure no one can sneak up on them. Once his men are inside and the cargo is safely strapped in, Sehun slaps the side of the truck and Jongin teleports to lock the door before returning to the driver’s seat and putting the truck into gear. “Xiumin, we are heading out now. We have the cargo.”

There’s a sigh of relief on the other line, the breath that has been held for the entire operation finally being let out. “Don’t let your guard down, it’s like them to pull something at the last minute,” Sehun nods, hoping that they manage to get through this without any troubles but it’s SuperM, they always seem to make such simple jobs hard. “If things get rough, get out of there and make sure to burn it all – if we don’t get it then we make sure they can’t have it either.”

They leave the yard, getting through security pretty easy until they reach the top of the cliff and a line of people are blocking the road; Jongin slams on the breaks, everyone in the truck lurching forward as the large vehicle skids to a halt. “Ahh, bro,” Jongin puts it into park and looks over at Yixing, “we got trouble.”

“Mum, look!” You look up and see Raeon hanging upside down on the bars, waving at you with a big grin on his face. You can’t help but laugh, loving the way he’s laughing and playing so carefree on the playground in the park down the road from your shop; you are filled with absolute joy seeing how happy he is with his new life – just like you’re happy with yours. You didn’t think that life would be so good, that things would be so fulfilling and everything you ever wanted but seeing your son, happy and so alive, there is nothing more that you could ever want; the shop has been doing so well and Raeon has been making plenty of friends at school.

What more could you possibly ask for?

You pull your small sketchbook out of your picnic bag, pulling the granite pencil out from the spine and search through the pages for a new page to draw on. You watch him for a little bit, taking in everything about the scenery; the way the trees gently blow in the breeze, the laughter of the children playing on the playground, the warmth of the sun and the direction of the shade. You capture all of this in your mind before taking pencil to paper and begin to draw the scene in front of you; your power allowing the scene you created in your mind to be drawn perfectly on the paper – so perfect that you barely had to look up to double check any detail.

“Wow,” a voice distracts you, a shadow cast over you causes you to look up and see who’s decided to block your view. There’s a slight panic that rushes through you when you realise that this stranger is blocking your view of Raeon, your son currently out of your sight and even though you know he’s safe, the slight fear that his father could find you, could try and take him from you, still grips your heart. “That’s some doodling you’ve got going on,” he doesn’t ask to sit but you didn’t know if you would have declined him if he had. “I’m Lucas.”

He offers you his hand, which you take before placing down your sketchbook and returning your gaze onto the playground – eyes desperately looking for your son. “You’re the man who works at the restaurant my son likes,” you don’t look at him, barely giving him a glance while he stares openly at you. “I have a good memory.” It’s the truth, a benefit to your power is that you have a photographic memory and it helps you to draw anything you’ve seen with perfect detail.

“May I?” He asks, picking up the book and you shrug nonchalantly because there isn’t really anything of importance in there; it’s just your every day book, the one you use when you doodle as he liked to call them. You let out a sigh of relief when you see Raeon slide down the slide and laugh as the kid behind him knocks into him, “your boy was the one who was upset about the waiter.” Lucas casually flicks through the pages, eyes widening when he sees how talented you are.

“Well, your waiter should really learn to speak children,” you wave at Raeon when he looks at you, “telling a six-year-old what he can and cannot have is not his job and I certainly did not appreciate someone telling my son such things.” Lucas looks up at you, seeing the pure annoyance on your face before an idea pops into his mind.

Taemin would love to have someone like you under his thumb and you clearly love your son deeply that you would do anything for him. He’s been trying to figure out a way to get ahead of EXO and entering the art trade with someone who can replicate art perfectly would be a great way to get them one step closer to taking over some territory. Lucas knows it’ll take a while; he needs to run it by Taemin before he put any plan into action but the more details that he knows about you – the better.

“I’m sorry, Miss…” he trails off, looking as apologetic as possible, his dark eyes softening and large, plump lips pulling into a small frown.

“Y/N,” you offer, finding him remarkably more handsome despite the obvious age difference.

Lucas smiles, “I’m sorry about my staff’s behaviour, Y/N,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card, “next time you come in, find me and I’ll make sure you and your son get the best of the best. On the house.”

You blush, taking the card before looking back at him. He’s being far too kind for such a small incident and for some reason, your heart starts beating quickly in your chest as you think about the possibility that he could be flirting with you. It’s been a long time since anyone has given you that type of attention – or that you’ve noticed and you don’t know how to deal with it, or if you even want to. “Thank you for the offer,” you give him a shy smile and Lucas grins, “this is very kind of you and I’m sure Raeon would love to come back again,” speaking of your son, he runs over and comes to a stop in front of you.

“Mum, I’m getting a bit…” he looks a little wary of Lucas, who offers him a kind smile, “tired.” You nod, understanding that all the emotions from all the children would have burnt your little empath out.

You apologise to Lucas, standing up and collecting all your items while he wipes his pants clean and hands you your sketchbook. Your cheeks turn a light pink when his hand brushes against yours and when he winks at you, you repress the soft giggle that bubbles in your chest as you turn away. It’s not that he’s unattractive, he’s a beautiful specimen, but it’s been a very long time since you’ve felt comfortable enough to accept such advances from men – especially those younger than you.

Raeon clutches your hand tightly, animatedly talking about how him and his friends were playing a game about the ground being lava and one person having to catch them; you nod intermittently, enjoying the happiness radiating off him but also feeling wary because you are sure someone is watching you. You are sure it’s paranoia, that it’s just years of living in fear of being found still playing in your mind.

Not knowing that Lucas is watching you walk home, watching you enter your shop with a smile on his face.

“Mum,” Raeon speaks, breaking your double checking of all the doors and windows, the worry in his voice causing you to look at him immediately instead of out the window. “That man that you were talking to,” he looks nervous to speak but you bend down and encourage him to say what’s on his mind, that his thoughts are more important than anything in this world. “He gave me funny feelings; I don’t like him.” You frown slightly, a little disappointed that the one guy who gave you such attention has given your son a bad vibe. You hug Raeon, kissing the top of his head and telling him that it’s okay, that if he makes you uncomfortable then you’ll make sure you don’t see him too much; Raeon feels the sad aura that surrounds you, not quite understanding that even though you didn’t like Lucas like that, it was nice to have someone show interest.

Especially after all that you’ve been through.

Meanwhile, Lucas is back at the restaurant, now knowing where you live as he leans back in his office chair with a smirk on his plump lips. You are perfect for what they need to do and all Lucas needs is for Taemin to confirm things so that Lucas can begin to get close to you. “What do you want, Lucas?” Taemin sounds extremely irritated due to the shipment being stolen a few nights ago; EXO managed to get past Taeyong and Ten because they obviously prepared to meet resistance.

“Boss, I got some good news,” he grins, excitement causing him to shake, “I met a woman-”

Taemin groans on the other end, “I really don’t have time to hear about some bitch you decided to fuck.” Lucas’ eyebrow twitches in irritation – it’s just like Taemin to jump to conclusions. Yes, he did initially approach you because Lucas thought you were truly beautiful, something he hasn’t seen around these parts before and you seemingly being without a man every time he saw you really did intrigue him. He approached you with the intention of getting to know you but when he saw your power, seeing how talented you were and thinking of all the ways you could be of use to him and his gang – Lucas’ intentions changed.

“She’s an artist,” Lucas tries his best to keep the annoyance out of his tone but Taemin still picks up on it, “she can draw anything perfectly.” He puts that point across but when he’s met with nothing but silence, Lucas elaborates, “if we can get her under our control, she can replicate some priceless art.”

The sound of acknowledgement that Taemin makes it mixed with a slight laugh, “and this is why you’re the eyes and ears.” Lucas beams at the praise his boss gives him, “keep her under surveillance, slowly bring her under our control and make sure she doesn’t get found out by Kai,” a low growl escapes his lips as he thinks about the man who has a terrible knack for getting under Lucas’ skin. It wasn’t the fact that Jongin is the opposition’s Prince Charming that caused Lucas to hate the man with every fibre in his bone, no, it was because Jongin has a way of being irresistible to any woman he sets his sights on – even Lucas’ ex-girlfriend. Letting Jongin catch wind of you would be like handing you to EXO on a silver platter. “Use whatever you can to get to her, obviously we don’t want to harm our new asset but if she doesn’t come quietly…”

“I’ve got just the leverage,” Lucas smiles. Like they say, a mother will do anything to protect their young and he’ll do anything to get what he wants – even if that means threatening a kid.

Her hands gently move down the buttons of his jacket, deftly undoing them while her hips sway in time with the music; he chuckles against her lips when he feels her push the expensive jacket open and run his hands along his abdomen which is still covered by his jacket vest. “Too many layers tonight, Kai,” she speaks against his lips, kissing him afterwards while his hands run over her back and trail down the curve of her ass.

“Where would the fun be if you didn’t have to work for it?” He smirks, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth and inhaling sharply when her hands runs over his bulge. He doesn’t even really remember her name, she’s just a regular who he meets in the bar and fucks in the bathroom whenever he sees her.

This is how his life is, no commitments because who needs those, who needs to deal with the hassle of hiding truths or saving feelings; not him, he hasn’t really thought about anything like that because his life is golden.

They bump and grind to the music, Jongin spinning her around and pulling her ass against his crotch as he grinds against her, kissing along the curve of her neck while she tangles her fingers in his hair. She gives it a tug and he bites down on the bruised skin harshly which elicits a sweet moan from her kiss-swollen lips; she pushes back, hinting subtly to what she wants and he chuckles deeply in her ear, giving the lobe a gentle tug before letting himself to be led towards the bathroom. Sehun finds his habits disgusting but that’s because Sehun’s a prude and Jongin couldn’t really care less if his friend bitches and moans about Jongin’s sex life – at least he has one.

He discards his jacket, placing it on the bar for the bartender to safely stow and before he reaches where his fuck for the night is waiting – Jongin spies two interesting people looking extremely happy. It’s strange to see considering that they lost a lot of drugs a few nights back and Jongin’s interest is piqued to know what makes Taemin look like a cat who got the cream. “Sorry baby,” he mouths, winking in her direction before teleporting to the both behind them.

He keeps his head down, reaching for the unattended bottle on the table and pours himself a drink, “Lucas may be young but he has some good ideas,” Ten, SuperM’s black market dealer, speaks with amusement, “drugs may fetch a great price on the street but art? That’s a new avenue and aiming for the big leagues, EXO couldn’t compete with that and it would mean more money to help gain hold over parts of their territory.”

Taemin nods, sipping his cocktail and sighing happily, which makes Jongin want to spoil their fun – but he waits to hear more. “I’ll make sure he finds more information about her but from what he knows is that she’s a single mother with a six-year-old son and they’ve recently moved to town; she owns a small shop down the road from the restaurant and is making quite a name for herself.”

“Mark would be good to search through her history, Lucas can stay on her, he seems to be doing well with getting to know her.” Ten muses, pushing his sphere-rimmed glasses up his nose and snapping his fingers for the waitress to come over, “we need to keep her away from them.” Taemin lets out a grunt, already having thought about the consequences if you were discovered by their rivals.

Jongin places his glass down, smirking as he stands up and heads for the bar, “jacket,” he states before glancing over in the direction of their booth. Taemin sees him, slamming his fist down on the table while Ten reaches inside his jacket for the gun that’s undoubtedly inside but he’s too late to shoot because the moment Jongin’s jacket is in his hand, he’s gone in a flash. Jongin arrives at the casino, startling a patron as she walks by and Jongin merely laughs as he throws his jacket over his shoulder and walks towards the back room.

He’s met with silence, everyone seemingly in the room and waiting for him; Sehun shakes his head in disappointment while Junmyeon sighs because the lipstick staining Jongin’s skin indicates where he was and what he was doing. “You’re late,” Minseok announces, breaking the silence as Jongin reaches the desk.

“How was I meant to know there was a meeting?” He shrugs, sitting in his assigned seat.

Running his hand over his face, Sehun grumbles, “we sent you a message, Kai.” Jongin pulls his phone out of his pants and lets out small ahh before shrugging and leaning forward to announce his news. Sehun cannot believe how blasé Jongin can be about things at times, it could have been an emergency and here he is, acting like nothing major has happened.

“You can lecture me later, Sehun, I saw Taemin and Ten at the bar – they have something planned.” The silence that he is met with lets him in on the reason that they are all gathered here, they already knew and because Jongin took his sweet time getting there, they had to wait for him to discuss it. “Well, I’m here now, so let’s get on with it.”

Minseok sighs, Jongin doesn’t like to be blamed for things even if it is his fault and tends to forget himself when it comes to business. He can behave like this outside of the office but he needs to learn respect for when he’s around the boss; Junmyeon tolerates the younger male because he’s irreplaceable and because of his history with Minseok but Kyungsoo isn’t afraid of teaching Jongin a thing or two about respect and who knows what would happen if Kyungsoo was allowed to do what he wanted.

Jongdae clears his throat, pulling your picture up on the computer and showing the room, “this is the woman that Lucas was telling Taemin about, her name is L/N Y/N and this is her son, Park Raeon. Her shop has been gaining a bit of a reputation because of her artistic skills which Lucas has discovered comes from her power; they want to do whatever it takes to get her to work for them and Lucas isn’t afraid to threaten her child if he has to.” This cause Jongin to grit his teeth, he may not like kids but he wouldn’t stoop so low as to threaten them. “She’s been posting ads around for help around the shop…” Jongdae begins to trail off when Junmyeon places his hand on his shoulder, the room grows heavy with silence and Jongin already knows he’s not going like this.

“Kai,” he groans, “we want you to get yourself hired for the job.” He wants to argue, everything in him hates this idea because it’s two things he really doesn’t want to deal with – children and flowers. Jongin isn’t complaining about having to work for you, from the looks of your picture, he wouldn’t mind being in a small shop for eight hours a day with you but the idea of having to play nice with your son doesn’t sound like a fun idea for him.

Plus, he hates the smell of flowers.

The bell chimes and you wipe your hands on your apron, telling Raeon to continue with it while you deal with the new customer. “Hello, sir,” you stop in the middle of your welcoming speech when you see the man standing in front of you; his grey brown is slicked back and his chocolate brown, almond shaped eyes hold a particular welcoming warmth to them that you haven’t seen in a long time, his lips are plump and pink along with a strong bridged, button nose and sharp jawline. You study his features, silently admiring every detail and you do your best not to let out the wow that is resting on the tip of your bitten tongue.

“I’m here to apply for the job,” the smile that he gives you makes you blush deeply and you apologise for staring. “My name’s Kim Jongin.” You would swoon if you weren’t trying to remain professional, his features were touched by angels and even his voice was enticing, like music to your ears. Your artistic mind was reeling at the man because he was a muse you could paint for hours and never grow bored of admiring.

You shake his hand, offering him a cup of tea before sitting him down at the table in the back of the shop which is covered in artworks, “hello, Jongin, my name’s Y/N.” You smile sweetly before placing the list of things you would need from him in front of him, “let me ask you some questions before we begin the trail.”

While you talked, a little set of eyes watched from the corner with a gentle smile on his lips, knowing a lot more than a young boy should.

[waitingforminjae]

i know i keep bringing it up but i really cannot believe that ppl looked at this 14-15 year old boy who was getting nosebleeds from working so hard and just like. didn't do anything? and even now when he brings it up and ppl let it pass or act like it's some good thing that shows his dedication and it's like. yeah, maybe so, but that does not change the fact that it shouldn't have been happening in the first place????????

like. do you know how hard you have to be pushing yourself and how stressed you have to be to have a literal physical reaction like that? i can't even fathom it. he was fourteen. the adults around them should never have let that happen. it is their job, as adults in charge of these children, to keep them safe and healthy. no matter how much taemin may have wanted to push himself like that, they should not have allowed it. they should have put their foot down and said no, you are not staying at this studio. you are going back to the dorm to rest. bc they were the adult and he was a child. a literal child. but they didn't.

it encourages the mindset that it's okay to sacrifice your health for your job, and that it is something to be admired when you overwork yourself and get sick just bc your chasing ur dream. that's unhealthy. and that's what fucks these artists up more than anything: the idea that their health (physical and mental) comes second to their work. and that is literally so fucked up.

[tum-like-oxygen]

I want you to depend on me (4/4)

The last part. This time with Key and Jinki. I did this on my phone and reread it once. Sorry for any mistakes.

Warnings: emeto,male x male, shipping hinting, depictions of vomiting and overall sickness. Bloated tummies are very present.

"Shit..." Key thought as an off bubbling sensation washed over his stomach. It was only a day after Minho and Taemin got sick. Minho was not feeling good a few days ago..."must've caught it in the van..." Waking up to this sensation was less than prime. He had heard the two boys from his room getting sick, for a day and was sure the worst was over. Now he had his own issue to deal with. He felt hot and achy.

His plan was to lay low. He didn't like people knowing anything was wrong, always trying to remain cool and deal with it on his own to save his image. He sighed, placing a hand on his stomach. He should have known when he skipped dinner last night. He felt full so he decided to just go to bed, at least he knew this stomach upset wasn't from hunger. He closed his eyes, even after sleeping so long he was still tired. It was about noon now. His belly was bloated a bit. Clearly he was sick.

He opened his eyes at the sound of knocking and his doorknob turning. His leader stood there. "Are you going to get up?" He looked concerned, Jinki always knew more than he let on, but maybe he could get away with it. "Just didn't sleep well last night... Gonna lay back down." Jinki frowned. Keys stomach let out a loud gurgle, causing him to turn a bit red. "I'll make you some food" Jinki left before the younger could protest. He could tell Key didn't feel good. His body language said everything. He was the leader, he knew his members, especially after 10 years. Not to mention the two sick boys in the other room, and the upset gurgles from his own stomach.

Key sighed, giving his bloated belly a gentle rub. He dreaded putting anything in his stomach. God only knew what Jinki was going to bring him... And he couldn't just not eat it. Even though his stomach was empty, it felt full and heavy.

Jinki returned with some chicken broth, a litre of ginger ale and glass, liquid tylenol and a partially empty bottle of Pepto. "Damn..." Jinki was just too good. "Open your mouth" Jinki placed a thermometer in front of the singers face. He complied. No use arguing. "Your almost at 103. Take this." He poured the liquid into the medicine cup and handed it to Key. It was disgusting. Cherry. His least favorite flavor. Definately not something he wanted to taste right now. He handed the cup back and cracked open the ginger ale, not even bothering you put it in the cup. He just wanted the cherry taste gone.

"Eat if you can. It's been over twelve hours since you've eaten anything " Jinki took the medicine bottle and walked out. Before closing the door he looked back 'I'll be in my room if you need me." He smiled and shut the door.

Key looked at the food with disgust. His tummy didn't feel like eating. His stomach was not happy.

Sighing he downed the broth in a few gulps. He didn't want to taste it. He wanted to get it over with. Realizing his mistake he swore and grabbed the ginger ale taking a small sip. The amount of broth Jinki gave him wasn't exactly a small portion. The bowl was huge. Key moaned, leaning back to rub his bloated stomach through his shirt. "ugh the broth is already making my stomach upset .. I guess even that was too rich to handle." The broth was salty, and he was dying for a drink. Eyung the ginger ale he though. "I mean... Won't this help my stomach?" He flipped on the TV and laid down, trying to soothe his tummy ache, mindlessly drinking his gingerale.

Fifteen minutes later a wet loud gurgle emitted from his stomach, causing a wet burp to rise. "Oh God... I drank it all." His stomach now full of broth and ginger ale, his stomach began to slosh and bubbl. "Hic .. oooh..." He stifled a burp with his hands. "God my stomach's upset." He grabbed the bottle of Pepto... Cherry... "For fucks sake..." He sighed, there was only a little over a third left in the bottle, so he just drank the rest down. He wanted his stomach to calm down, and surely this was the only way.

Gagging on the sickening cherry flavor, key felt a bit dizzy. His stomach doing flips. The taste in his mouth was less than pleasant. He wanted, he was absolutely nauseated. All the sloshing liquid only added to the queasy feeling, akin to being seasick. He stood up and his belly sloshed. "oh god..." Wrapping his arms around his midsection, he walked mindlessly to the leaders room. Before opening the door he regained his composure as best he could.

Jinki was laying down, reading a book. Key could see the eldest had a hand rested on a bloated belly. He could tell Jinki felt a bit unwell just by looking at him. That was their leader though, never caring about himself, and selflessly thinking of his members in any situation. "Kibum..." He closed his book "Is something wrong."

Key blushed. "N..no... I just heard Minho puking again and I wanted to be away from it.' He lied. Jinki eyed the youngest bloated belly. It was obviously upset. He could even hear it gurgle and groan from the distance between the two. But he played along. "Thank you for the food..." Keys stomach let out a queasy gurgle. "I... I gotta pee.." He lied again, the cacaphany of flavors riding up his throat, and closed himself in the eldest's bathroom.

Jinki sighed. "Why not just tell the truth." He shook his head and waited. He wasn't going to hurt the singers ego or embarrass him. If he needed him Key would let him know.

Key turned the faucet on... Not wanting to be heard. His stomach grew more upset each second. Not wanting to be on the dirty floor, he sat on the edge of the bathtub and rubbed his sick stomach, brining up queasy burps, ocassionally spitting into the bowl. He began to sweat, he really didn't feel well. Eventually the nausea faded enough that he felt like he could go back. He turned off the faucet, tears in his eyes. His belly hurt so badly and he felt so sick.

"S...sorry I bothered you." He looked down. "I..I'll go."

Before he could leave Jinki grabbed his arm. "Kibum' his voice was stern. "Why on Earth did you drink all of that?" Having gone into the bedroom to tidy up, he was shocked. Keys stomach had to be sicker than before. He pulled the covers from his bed back and patted the empty spot. "Lie down. You have a bellyache. I won't let you leave my sight until you're better."

Key blushed, complying. "Jinki, ah... I'll get you sick..."

Jinki scoffed "I'm already sick to my stomach. He lifted his shirt revealing his slightly bloated stomach. "It started a few hours ago. I'll be fine..." He blushed. "Please just let me be here for you." He looked into the youngers eyes. "Stop pushing everyone away..."

Tears streamed down Kibums cheeks. "Jinki...." He was interuppted by a wave of nausea. His hand raised to his mouth. Onew placed a hand on his back as he shot up in bed. "Does your tummy feel sick?" Key nodded, afraid to speak. His stomach let out gurgle after gurgle. Jinki looked on concerned as the singers face paled. He knew moving Key would be a bad idea. "It's ok... I'm here..."

Key swallowed the acidic liquid rising from his stomach and moaned. "Jinki..." He panted, sweating from his fever and nausea. "Can't... Make it to the toil -" he was cut short by a gag, rushing his hand to his mouth he was able to stop it momentarily, but some sick still got onto the elders white bedding.

He was able to turn to the side of the bed, as his stomach sent up another wave. The liquid poured out of him violently as he retched. The taste of th cherry Pepto causing him to vomit again. Soon he felt a hand on his belly running in soft circles. "It's alright. Get it all up." Jinki was amazing at__ consoling. With him there, Key felt safe. Something he hadn't felt for a long time.

A mixture of the situation and his own stomach bug, Jinki began to feel nauseated. "Kibum... I'm happy... You're not going through this alone .. at least.. " he spat on the ground as Kibum continued to bring up the liquid contents of his stomach. Jinki retched as a stream of water escaped his lips, all he had ingested. "S...sorry stomach just isn't feeling well it's not you.'"

Key shook his head as a break presented itself. He spat. "I know... God my stomach is so upset..." Key whined. "I guess yours is too." Jinki nodded. "Get to the bathroom. I'll clean this so we can just lay down once this is over."

Key nodded, getting out of his soiled clothing and leaning in front of the toilet. He was dizzy and hot. His stomach wasn't anywhere near empty. He wasn't throwing up a lot at a time. He almost wished he would and get it over with.

Jinki was overcome with nausea after cleaning the mess. After changing the bedding he threw it in the corner of the bathroom. He didn't care. He ran to the sink and vomited bile. Key couldn't handle that and a large steam of liquid came after a wet burp. His eyes were tearing up as he continued to bring most of his stomach contents up into the bowl. He spat, not feeling like more was coming.

He panted and leaned back rubbing his belly. Jinki flushed the bowl and sat down, pulling Kibum onto his lap facing the toilet. He put both hands around his disdended stomach. "I'm here for you." He pressed into his belly, bringing up some more burps from the sick singer. "It hurts..." Key whined, moaning at Jinki's touch. "Just lean on me. I'll rub your stomach until you feel you can get up."

Key laid there, resting on his hyung. His smell was comforting. "Thanks hyung... I'm sorry you don't feel good either." He stifled a burp. "I feel better than you. Just relax." Key was just getting comfortable when his stomach cramped, and he flew over the bowl, retching up the last of the liquid and bile. He dry heaved for a few minutes until his stomach calmed a bit.

"I need to lie down..." Key moaned, his stomach still not feeling well. He was done vomiting, but the upset stomach lingered as well as a slight bloat to his stomach. They cleaned up and went to the room.

Jinki helped him up and gave him one of his shirts. His stomach was visible even through that. Jinki changed and put a trash can on each side of the bed, turned on his fan and slid next to his member. He pulled him close in a spooning position and rubbed his belly, still gurgling. Jinki was exhausted, as was the younger.

"Hyung..." Key blushed. "Whenever my belly hurts... I'll tell you from now on... Will .. will you rub it every time."

Jinki smiled, kissing the back of his head. "Always. I always want you to tell hyung every time you aren't feeling good." He stroked his cheek. "After all Taemin has Minho, and if you'll have me... You have me..."

Key blushed, placing his hand on top of Jinki's. "I.. I'd like that .." soon the two drifted to sleep , the younger in his hyungs arms. Their upset stomachs had them up and down, and they rubbed each other's bellies and backs every time one was awoken by the urge to vomit.

Soon, they were able to sleep without interruption.

The next morning they knew they'd have to explain why Kibum came out of Jinki's room. But that was ok. Maybe tomorrow key could rub Jinki's belly, that though drove him crazy. This stomach bug brought them all closer than they thought it would.

[6v6taeminisloveshineeworld]

Sing For Me x Taemin

Pairing: Taemin x Reader

Summary: You are sick with a fever and Taemin comes home early from rehearsal to comfort you 

Word Count: 602

Your notifications came in one after the other partially muted by the sheets covering your phone. Your head was fuzzy from waking and you found that your forehead, neck, and hair were damp from the slight fever you had caught from who knows what. Pushing back the sweat with the back of your hand you mute the noise and try to bury the fact that work awaits you. Maybe I can just close my eyes for a while long- Just then your phone vibrates with a text and your mood brightens significantly as you open it with a smile.

Jagiya, i’m sorry I left so early this morning for rehearsal but you were having such a restless sleep last night and you were a bit warm this morning so I went to finish work early and I’ll be home soon. I left a new bottle of water and medicine on the nightstand for you -TAEM

You shifted to your side to see that sure enough a new water bottle was on the nightstand. That explained why he had left even before the sun had risen.

Responding back with a quick thank you knowing that he wouldn’t see the message for a while you fell back asleep with a smile. Until the door opening a few hours later woke you and you were happy to find that after the extra sleep you were already feeling better or maybe it was the radiant smile that came from Taemin who entered the room with one hand behind his back and twinkling brown eyes.

“Good morning,” he said leaning down and moving your hair away from your eyes and mouth tracing his small fingers over your lips and leaning even closer to give you a more than chaste teasing kiss that was exactly what a recovering person did not need but of course, Taemin knew it was exactly what you needed and he chuckled a bit when your arms wrapped around the back of his head and pulled slightly on his blonde hair bringing him closer.

Taemin moved to your ear and with a faint whisper hardly to be heard he said, “I see you’re feeling better.

His tone and breath against your ear made your head spin and it was hard to tell if it was because of him or the pounding in your head from the fever.

Pulling away Taemin brought his hidden gift from behind his back. It was a box of your favorite chocolates that looked to be suspiciously opened already and sure enough you found half of them were already eaten.

“I see you were hungry after rehearsal,” you said with a teasing smile.

“Yes, I was hungry for you,” Taemin said and you wondered with red-tipped ears exactly why you even tried to beat him at his game of teasing.

His eyes twinkled again as he took one of the chocolates and placed it in your mouth.

“I think I’ll stay right here till you recover he said sliding onto the edge of your bed and placing his hand behind your head. You leaned in closer resting your head against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat enchant you like a lullaby as the second dose of medication worked its way through your body making you drowsy.

“Taemin can you sing a song for me to fall asleep.”

He kissed the top of your head and covered your shoulder with the sheet before he proceeded to sing It’s you in a soft tone that had you falling into blissful sleep once more safe from nightmares and covered in love.