#yet another in the growing genre of 'your home will be destroyed within hours so you need to take what you need and get out'

[fictionadventurer]

.

[togetherweflyhigh]

It’s Okay (drabble)

Genre: Nonidol, a/b/o, a bit of angst from reader, fluff, established relationship

Pairings: Alpha!Seokjin x Omega!gender-neutral reader

Warnings: None

W/C: 1,285

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write something small and sweet for a while now. Literally the summary popped in and said hello and demanded to be wrote. 

Summary: Seokjin comes home to you making a nest which is… unusual.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very much encouraged! Thank you!!

"What are you doing?" The question comes as Seokjin takes in the atmosphere of the current state of the bedroom. 

Walking through the front door things were off. The usual sweet scent of lavender and rosemary were replaced with the scent of rotten oranges. Before reaching the bedroom, all the couch pillows were gone along with the few throw blankets that were laying around. Guest bedrooms were completely scavenged of blankets and pillows. 

You have never done this. Even though you’re an omega, you never have nested before or for as long as you two have been together and that’s been a while. 

You were stacking the last of the pillows onto the bed when caught. “I…” You had no idea what you were doing either but you did know nothing was organized in the way that you wanted it and that felt frustrating just looking at it. “I don’t know.” The sudden feeling of embarrassment overcomes you as you sit in the pile. Your parents were both alphas so when you came along it was shocking when you presented as an omega.

When an alpha and another alpha have a baby, it’s rare. It’s even rarer that the baby ends up being an omega. Nonetheless, they loved you but the mindset of growing up in the shadows of alphas never left you. In a way, you felt a bit broken. You weren’t like them but you also didn’t act like an omega. 

It was common for the omega to just stay home but you didn’t want that. No, you got a few jobs in the past and were currently somehow still working at a restaurant. It was hard to get work as an omega since no one wanted to grow out of old ways. 

Seokjin comes over to sit next to you on the messy bed. “What’s wrong, my love?” A gentle hand is placed on your knee. Your scent wasn’t getting any better so something was clearly up. “Did something happen at work?” Of course, it was something at work. It was the only time the two of you were away from each other except for when Seokjin had business trips to attend. 

You knew Seokjin didn’t mind you ranting out your feelings but sometimes, like now, you just wanted to curl up in bed. “Yeah..” You speak softly, hanging your head low. You were still reeling with embarrassment from being caught attempting to build a nest. There were a few times in the past where you had wanted to build one but it just never felt right. “I kind of messed up a lot today.” The tickling heat of tears can be felt building up around your eyes and nose as you recall the events. 

It started off like any other day. The normal morning rush and, of course, the usual lunch rush but today was the busiest workday you've ever experienced. Orders were getting mixed up causing everything to become slower as you tried fixing it, a tray of drinks slipping out of your hands destroying all the glassware, even the computer system went down for a few hours making a payment with a card impossible. By far the angriest customers in one day you have ever dealt with. Sure, making a few mistakes here and there was okay but for an entire day was just too much.

“It’s okay, let's not worry about it right now.” If you weren’t speaking now then it was clear to Seokjin that you weren’t up for a recap. Instead, he stands looking at the pile of blankets and pillows. “Do you want me to help you with this?” You looked surprised at him before turning your head to the bed.  “I don’t know. I think I should put everything back.” 

“You seemed like you were on a mission before I interrupted. Why not give it a try since everything is here?” Seokjin was being so gentle and encouraging. You ponder a moment before agreeing. There was still awkwardness lingering in you. Nesting was so commonly known to be done by omegas and yet here you are attempting your first. Even when you went through heats, you never made one but the temptation was always there. 

“Want me to leave?” You didn’t want to say yes to him as he literally just got home but you also didn’t want to say no. Seokjin reaches down, petting your head. “How about I make a snack run for us?” He was trying to give you some privacy seeing how uncomfortable you were with this new action. “Can we order takeout?” 

The two of you settled on tteok-bokki and kimchi fried rice, something familiar before Seokjin is headed to the store. 

You returned to the room now alone with the mess. Seokjin would be back within forty minutes or less. It felt odd. You didn’t know what to do but at the same time, you knew exactly what to do. With some minutes going by trying to decide rather put everything back or to make an attempt. You heard Seokjin’s ‘why not’ ring through your head and decided to take on the action once again.

The pillows were laid out like a barrier on the edges of the bed with a few of the lighter blankets covering them. The bigger blankets and some smaller pillows from the couch were inside. It made the bed look like an actual nest.

Crawling over into the nest for the first time ever was the most affirming thing you’d experience as an omega. What about it was suddenly making you feel so much better and just euphoric? It was so new to you still you couldn’t put a finger on it. Curling up in the blankets, you basked in the new warm and fuzzy feeling. This was definitely something you have been missing out on.

Time seemed to fly by because Seokjin was suddenly home again and the discomfiture was threatening to start welling up again. 

You only raised up enough to peek over the edge of the fluffy walls around you when you heard the rustling of plastic and feet walking into the room. It felt like there was a hand reaching into Seokjin’s chest and just squeezing his heart as tight as possible seeing his omega in their first nest. It was by far the most endearing thing he’d ever seen you do. 

“It looks nice, may I come in?” 

Seokjin didn’t know much about the nesting process, especially how it was with you. Even be possessive over their space. Earlier, he could sense there was uneasiness about it, thus the reason he thought to go out for a bit. He was glad he did because getting to witness you like this was going to be memorable for a long time. 

“Of course!” Your voice sounded tiny and as if you were starting to destress. It brought a sense of happiness and relief that you were. 

After very carefully climbing into the nest, making sure not to knock anything out of place, he planted a kiss on your forehead before going through the two bags of snacks with you. The only time you left the nest was to eat the takeout food in the kitchen as you feared it would get on something if eaten in the newly built nest. Though, you still ate snacks in it. That night when the two of you laid down finally, you told Seokjin about what happened at work. 

“It’s okay. Mistakes happen sometimes when we least expect them. I’m sure everything will be okay.” With reassuring words, your head calms for the moment as Seokjin holds you a little tighter for the night.

[luminari-mc]

My Human, My Sunshine - Part 1

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Word count: 5194

Summary: Mammon finds himself lost in the human world. Meanwhile, MC can't get ahold of Solomon, their phone dead silent.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: My first writing piece for Obey Me! It's kind of a long one so I recommend you grab a snack or two during it. While this part is occupied by a good amount of text messages between Mammon and someone else, I'm already thinking of writing a part 2 which will have way more dialogue. In the meantime, please enjoy this little scenario I came up with after listening to a song that set me in an angsty mood. :)

______________________________________________________

Wet. Cold. Exhausted. And completely lost.

Mammon felt all of those, and yet, his legs kept on marching into the dead of night, his jacket covering his head despite being too drenched to protect him from the rain anymore. Each time a droplet of water came rolling on his cheek, his wrist would come to brush it off, and Mammon would let out an annoyed groan. If only there were any shops open, but the city was definitely asleep. He was thankful for the crashing sound of the rain on the ground around him, along with the smell of the wet asphalt keeping himself awake, otherwise, he surely would have gone crazy by now. The demon had even lost count of how many hours he had been wandering through the streets, how many mailboxes he had checked, how few passersby he had come across, only to receive negative answers to his questions.

And so Mammon kept on walking, not sure where to go next. But he felt sure of one thing: he wouldn't stop moving until he had found what he was looking for. Be there rain, or no rain. Lost or not.

"Tch, the human world's weather really sucks..."

As he walked on the pavement, his brow furrowed from the lack of new clues as to where his destination was supposed to be. His eyes caught sight of a bakery he had already walked by earlier during the day, its gentle light piercing the darkness that had been accompanying him for far too long now. Mammon's brow furrowed slightly at the sight- he knew he had gone in circles time and time again, but seeing it confirmed once more rubbed him the wrong way. Despite that, he decided to walk towards it, and took shelter under the entrance's porch. Surely the owners wouldn't mind him checking his phone for a few minutes, right? Right.

Pinching between his fingers the precious D.D.D. he had tucked under his shirt to protect it from the rain, Mammon looked at the map again. His stomach dropped for the upteenth time upon seeing the address still showing in his search bar, the letters and numbers taunting him. A knot formed in his throat as he tried his best not to scream at his screen.

"It wasn't there, you idiot..."

His mouth formed into an angry pout. Mammon looked into the list of potential addresses he had made throughout the day, and all had been crossed out. He felt his jaw clench- not only was he left with no addresses, no other clues, no humans to help him, but also that stupid rain surely would keep on falling for the rest of the night.

He was truly cursed.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!" Mammon groaned, his free hand reaching upward to grab at his hair in frustration.

Yes... that was a good question. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he could ask help from any of his brothers, or from the angels. It had already been a miracle a witch he knew accepted to snuck him into the human world without anyone knowing, but there was no way he'd get any more help from her without offering his own life in exchange. And contacting Solomon was absolutely out of the question, for his own obvious reasons that he still was suspicious of the guy.

For the longest time in a while, Mammon felt alone. More alone than he had ever been before. He had promised himself to go on this search on his own, stupidly thinking that it'd be over by the end of the day, and look where that got him. Lost in the human world, on the verge of catching some nasty human virus from all this rain that had poured on him, and without anyone by his side.

The grip on his phone tightened, the hand holding it shaking slightly as the anger was starting to consume the demon. Even Mammon's patience had its limits, and he was starting to reach it.

"Dammit, where the hell are ya-"

A pathetic yelp escaped his mouth as he looked in fear at his phone, which had buzzed for a very short second in his palm. Wait, was it a notification? But from who? He had taken all the necessary precautions before leaving, so who was still able to reach his number?

His mind ran through all possibilities as he quickly checked his screen, the name of the sender making him open his eyes wide.

Leviathan: Mammon!!

Leviathan: Where are you???

Leviathan: You promised me you'd play this new game with me after coming home from RAD, don't tell me you forgot?? It's been HOURS.

Leviathan: Also the others say they can't reach your DDD and Lucifer is seriously pissed!

Leviathan: And I know you didn't break your DDD, that wouldn't explain why I can send texts now and the others still can't. Even though mine didn't work before.

Leviathan: But do you know how much time and effort it took me to find a way to bypass a blocked number?? Well guess what, the same amount of hours since you broke your promise!

Leviathan: You're reading this, right? Then send something! Anything!

Mammon backed even more into the porch of the shop, his eyes stuck to the screen of his phone. All of the blood rushing to his head suddenly made him forget he was cold in the first place. Of course Levi would be the first to find a way to contact him.

The demon's chest rose as he breathed in heavily, his hands slowly wrapping around the phone. It took him a hot minute to get ahold of his trembling fingers so as to not make any typos, his mind debating whether responding was a good idea or not, even as he hit the send button.

Mammon: Sorry Levi, gonna have to postpone the gaming session.

Mammon: I got business elsewhere and I'm not sure when I'll come back home, if ever.

Leviathan: Ew stop sounding so gloomy, you're almost starting to sound like me and tbh it would be kinda creepy.

Leviathan: That still doesn't tell me where you are! I know it's like a common thing for you to get into shady stuff on a regular basis but even Lucifer seems concerned, and weirdly enough he's not even trying to hide it???

Leviathan: He's been pacing back and forth in the common room for 20 minutes and won't let go of his phone it's starting to creep me out.

Leviathan: Hey huh, if you really were in big trouble you'd let us know, right? Like, even by typing a secret message to let us know that you got kidnapped or whatever?

Leviathan: Nevermind, I really don't see why you'd even get kidnapped, so it HAS to be that you chose to disappear by yourself.

Leviathan: But anyway! It's been 2 months now since everyone's been acting weird and I've seen and heard you enough to CLEARLY see that you're getting worse but finding trouble with witches or whatever won't help you feel better. And yes I know you've been faking being fine the entire time!! Don't think you can fool me!!

Leviathan: Believe me and the hundreds of figurines I bought!! I thought they'd help and it's somehow doing nothing, I feel like the worst fraud of an otaku EVER!!! How can I call myself an otaku when I can't even find joy anymore in the things that make an otaku what he is??

Leviathan: It's like I'm losing my identity! Wait no screw that, it's not just me, we've all been losing it!!

The three dots of a message being typed disappeared and reappeared, and Mammon couldn't do anything but watch the messages of his brother pop up one after another on his screen. A sense of guilt surfaced inside of him, and it only made him frown. It's not as if he hadn't thought about asking Levi for help, before getting himself into this mess... but for both of their sakes, he had decided that it had to be him coming here, and only him.

But suddenly, just as he expected his brother to send another message, the three dots disappeared, and didn't come back right away. Mammon's focus on his phone increased at the unexplained absence of new texts from Levi, and he waited, expecting him to continue the chain of messages he had started. But nothing followed.

It wasn't in Levi's habits to suddenly stop texting in the middle of a flood of texts. The demon gripped his phone tighter, worry beginning to grow within his mind. Was it because they were in different worlds that their phones couldn't reach properly? Or worse- had Lucifer found him out?

His heart almost skipped a beat as the three dots reappeared under his eyes, before letting another message pop up.

Leviathan: wait

Leviathan: waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait

Leviathan: OMG NO WAY

Leviathan: MAMMON TELL ME YOU'RE KIDDING

Mammon: I literally haven't said anything?

Leviathan: YOU PERFECTLY KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT

Leviathan: DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE IN THE HUMAN WORLD RN??

Shit.

How did he even find out?! Well... he could only assume that it wouldn't take a genius to figure out where Mammon could have gone if not anywhere in the Devildom, but still, why did Levi have to type it out? His plan was supposed to be flawless after all.

Mammon: Sorry bro, I can't say where I am.

Mammon: I know Lucifer's bound to check all of your DDDs sooner or later and that's only gonna help him find me.

Mammon: And like I said, I have something to do, so I can't come back.

Leviathan: Wait! I'll delete all of our messages, and I'll even destroy my DDD if it means you tell me why you're there

Leviathan: Actually no don't even answer, there can only be one reason you took that kind of risk

Leviathan: Is it... because of MC?

Upon reading their name again, Mammon felt his stomach sink. The eyes of the Avatar of Greed closed almost instantly as if to avoid reading it, the damp air whistling through his teeth as he breathed in deeply. Of course Levi would figure that out too. Any of his brothers could have.

The demon leaned his head against the wall behind him, his eyes opening and staring into nothing as he contemplated telling Levi about his plan. It wasn't as if he had any backup plans considering the situation he was in, after all. And Levi had the advantage of being at home, and having access to technology and magic that could improve his search further. But the thought of Lucifer figuring everything out still haunted him, making the hair on his skin stand straight.

And yet... At this point, he had nothing else to lose.

Mammon: Ya gotta promise not to tell anyone about this.

Leviathan: Who do you take me for? I'm not a snitch!

Leviathan: Especially if it's about MC.

Leviathan: But huh... what about Lucifer? You know that if when he finds out you went to the human world, he's going to kill you.

Mammon: Fuck Lucifer.

Mammon: I'm tired of hearin' him say he's "taking care of it". He clearly knows something but won't tell any of us and I'm tired of not getting any news from MC since they left the Devildom 2 months ago.

Mammon: And what's with his excuse about them not havin' their DDD anymore to contact us? I call that a load of bullshit.

Mammon: Something weird happened and Lucifer's too stuck-up to let us know what it is.

Mammon: So I'm done waiting around to see when they'll come back, or IF they'll even come back. So I'm going to get them myself.

Mammon: Problem is, I went to MC's place, and they weren't there. Their neighbor told me that they moved out a while ago with, get this, "a guy with white hair".

Leviathan: ??????? Solomon?????

Mammon: I'd bet my Demonio and all the things I possess that it's him.

Mammon: Not only Lucifer's in on this secret thing about MC, but Solomon too. I've already booked him an appointment with my fists if he did anythin' to them.

Mammon: Hell, even Diavolo and Barbatos seem to be in it too, which sucks even bigger time.

Mammon: So that means it's just us 6 who don't know shit. I wasn't about to play nice and dumb for Lucifer any longer.

Leviathan: Mammon

Leviathan: I never thought I'd ever write something like that to YOU

Leviathan: but

Leviathan: you sound super cool rn!! That just makes me wish I could have gone too!!

Leviathan: Pleasepleaseplease let me help!!! I'm also worried about MC and I miss having them here. The atmosphere at the house has sucked ever since we realized we couldn't text or call them anymore and I huh... kinda miss seeing them around the others too.

For a split second, Mammon considered taking a screenshot of Levi's last message to sell it as "the proof that the Avatar of Envy can control his jealousy!", but now wasn't the time for that. He had Levi's approval for helping him find the whereabouts of MC, and that's all he needed at the moment. He hadn't even noticed his lips turning into a small grin upon reading his brother offering his support.

Mammon: Alright Levi listen.

Mammon: All I'm tryin' right now is to find where MC might be.

Mammon: I don't think they left the place I'm at, but I ain't about to search at every damn house there is here. Would take too much time anyway.

Mammon: So can ya use your shut-in powers and figure somethin' out? Like I don't know, catch their human phone's signal or whatever through hacking?

Leviathan: Lol? I'll let you know it's not because I spend my entire days in my room that I know how to find a human phone!

Leviathan: I know how to hack yeah, but I don't know how to hack human technology! Not that I maybe tried once or twice and it resulted in failure each time.

Leviathan: But huh... I could try?

Leviathan: Let me ask Satan if we could use magic too.

Mammon: Satan? Levi, are you stupid? Last thing we want is to get more people to know about what I'm doing.

Leviathan: Oh huh yeaaaah, about that.

Leviathan: I should have told you sooner, but when I stopped answering earlier it's because Satan caught me texting you.

Leviathan: But he actually knew you had left to the human world! So we don't have to worry! He's on our side... obviously.

Mammon: Then the two of you get on it.

Mammon: And don't catch Lucifer's attention.

Leviathan: Yeah!

Leviathan: I'll let you know when we've found something.

Leviathan: BRB!

And then just like earlier, Levi's texts stopped appearing on his screen. A sigh left Mammon's lips as he closed his eyes, and the demon allowed his body to slide against the wall behind him until he was sitting on the ground. As he stretched out his sore body, the second-born finally realized that after two whole months of not getting to hear MC's voice, seeing their smile, getting to touch them... he had gotten closer to finding them, all thanks to his brothers. He had let Lucifer's intimidation get the best of him throughout all this time, but not anymore. No matter whether his older brother would catch wind of where he was, and what he was doing, Mammon would never stop trying to bring back MC where they belonged. With him, in the Devildom, back with the family they had found and grown to love.

Closing the messaging app with his thumb, the picture of MC he had set as his D.D.D. background seemed to radiate like the sun. How dared them all try to separate his human from their first man? From the one who'd they come to whenever they had a nightmare and couldn't fall asleep? The demon who'd hug them as tight as possible in their bed after a long day at RAD? The one who'd had the chance to fall asleep with them, getting the absolute honor of seeing their face so close to his, and who'd protect their dreams from any bad thoughts and scary nightmares?

The anxiety that Mammon had worn on his face all day slowly disappeared, and a small smile was placed upon it instead as his eyes met MC's in the picture.

"I'm almost there. Ya just gotta be patient a little more."

I'll find ya.

Time went on as Mammon waited for any news of Levi and Satan's research. The rain showed no sign of clearing soon, and the demon was starting to doze off after spending his entire day without taking a single break. He could have almost fallen asleep if it hadn't been for the owner of the bakery opening the door to close his shop and asking him to sit somewhere else. So Mammon moved from one spot to another, and took shelter near another store instead.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting on the stone steps he had sat on, his phone's screen flashed a bright light as a new notification from Levi appeared from the top. Quickly passing his wrist on his tired eyes, Mammon tapped on the new message at the speed of light. The contents made him gasp, and for a second, he had almost forgotten how to breathe, as his now wide-open eyes were glued on the content of the message.

A full-on address, along with a picture of the place.

Mammon instantly stood up at the sight of the picture, the memories of his day resurfacing in a flash. He remembered very clearly seeing this particular building sometime during his search- its height had been making it stand out very easily amongst the other buildings in the city. Nobody couldn't mistake it with anything else.

Mammon: This is it?

Leviathan: Yeah, we placed down a map and confirmed it was there.

Leviathan: Satan actually found a book in his room with a spell that can help find a person's specific item with just some of their DNA.

Leviathan: So we went to MC's room and found some hair that Satan used for the spell, along with his phone so it could narrow down the list of MC's items.

Leviathan: I didn't think Satan's room could look even more of a mess, but he spent 10 minutes shoveling through his collection and now you can't even see the floor or his bed anymore lol

Leviathan: Anyway now that you got what you wanted, go and check if MC is there!

Mammon felt his legs move on their own as he flipped his jacket above his head and stepped under the rain again, a confident grin now brightly adorning his face as he typed on his phone to reply.

Mammon: Thanks Levi. I'll owe ya one.

Leviathan: Find MC and bring them back. Then you can consider us even.

Mammon nodded, a newfound hope filling his entire body and mind. After confirming that Levi had ceased texting him, the demon turned the phone off. He opened his hand to drop it on the wet floor, and let his right foot crash down upon it, the object almost breaking in half. Mammon promptly gathered in his hand the shattered item, now completely unusable, and threw it down a nearby sewer before letting his excitement take the best of him and sprint further in the direction of the building from the picture. At least, now Lucifer wouldn't be able to track him down with it if Levi and Satan got caught.

The more distance he covered, the more Mammon could swear he was about to take on his demon form at any moment. The thoughts of MC began to fill his head even more, as if they were the one pushing him to find them, to get to them as soon as possible. For the first time in 2 months, Mammon felt truly alive.

"Almost there. The Great Mammon's coming for ya, MC!!" he let out in the form of an encouragement to himself, his legs having found their energy again as his form was engulfed further into the city.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Anxiously pacing around the room, their head low and their phone in their hands, MC was growing more and more impatient. They were supposed to receive an update from Solomon about three hours earlier in the form of a phone call, but no matter the amount of messages they'd spent in the hopes of the wizard finally answering them, all they received was a dreadful silence. Grabbing a nearby chair, they let their body fall onto the seat as their fingers typed yet another message. They couldn't really understand how they had come to grow so persistent when it came to getting Solomon to reply to them, but having no other person to talk to ever since they left the Devildom 2 months prior would do that to anyone, they assumed.

'Solomon, sorry, I know I'm sending a lot of texts, but you said you'd visit today and I'm starting to be worried and... honestly a bit lonely. I thought going out today would help, but I just sat in the park for an hour before going back home and not doing much of the day.'

'You were supposed to meet with other wizards today, right? I hope nothing bad happened. But in case you're alright, all I'm asking is just one reply to at least get some sort of human connection. Not that I had a lot of it in the past few months.'

They felt their throat tighten upon writing their last sentence, feeling the frustration spilling out of their own words right back into their face. But who could blame them?

2 months without seeing, hearing, or even texting their friends back in the Devildom. 2 months without receiving a single visit from Luke or Simeon. 2 months spent exclusively with the company of Solomon, who had been acting strange ever since and had made them move out of their home under the excuse that it was to "train them at magic in a more private setting". But more importantly... those had been 2 months without having Mammon around, and MC would lie if they said they hadn't spent several nights crying themself to sleep, wondering how the demon was dealing with their absence.

The memories of their latest departure from the Devildom played in their head like a movie as they placed a hand on their forehead. Everything had seemed alright at the time, with them getting to say their usual goodbyes to the brothers, wishing to see them again once the new year at RAD would start, foolishly thinking that they'd get to spend their time hearing their voices on a daily basis once they were back in the human world. And before they could understand, their DDD had been taken from them, Solomon had been more present in their life than ever before, and for a reason they still couldn't grasp, it was as if the brothers had vanished from their life completely. No news whatsoever. Complete radio silence.

Just thinking back to this period, and how they could have probably caught that something was up as soon as Diavolo asked for their DDD after the brothers had left... it just made them want to puke.

But nothing could make them want to do so as much as the long-awaited reply of Solomon appearing on their screen.

'Hi MC. I'm deeply sorry I couldn't get ahold of you throughout the day. I won't be able to visit you today, since my services are still required here. Besides, it's getting late. I recommend you go have a good night's sleep as soon as possible.'

'If everything goes smoothly, I should be able to come back tomorrow. Then, we'll be able to go walk wherever you want. How does that sound?'

'I need to be going, but I shall wish you a good night. Take care, MC.'

And just as quickly as he had answered, Solomon went silent again. Leaving them in this apartment they had grown to hate, this prison cell he had put them in. A place where no fun could be found for them. MC didn't even bother sending anything else after that.

Their head sunk even lower, until their forehead slowly met with the hard surface of the dinner table. The phone faceplanted onto the wood as MC's hands turned into hard fists, a deep groan shaking the walls of their throat. It was hard not to let the tears escape their eyes, but instead, they opted to punch the table several times as hard as they could, until they felt their anger diminish.

How long was Solomon going to act ignorant towards them? How long was he going to ignore their pleas to get news from the Devildom, anything that would let them know why they couldn't contact the brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos? Even if the lords had been in some sort of trouble... they'd still find time to talk to their human, right? There was no way Mammon, the one they loved, wouldn't try to reach them one way or another... right?

Him who had been so clingy in such an adorable way every time they'd be at the House of Lamentation, he who had revealed to them that there wasn't a single day where his thoughts wouldn't drift to them no matter how hard he tried...

No. No amount of important duties would explain why Mammon of all demons, would ignore them like that.

They missed his antics. His entire being. The warmth he'd bring them each time he'd hold their hand before tucking his face into their neck like a pouting child, desperately trying to sneak one or two kisses in there, in the hopes he'd get to hear that sweet giggle of them. It wasn't for nothing that Lucifer had come to name them the chaotic duo of the House of Lamentation. They were two parts of a whole.

And yet, the world had dared to separate them. And MC was tired, oh so tired of not having their other half near them. The only feeling they had left, was one of pure desperation to see their greedy demon.

"I'm not asking for much... even a single word would do." MC replied to no one as they turned their head to rest their cheek onto the table. They closed their eyes, the anger slowly being replaced by a profound exhaustion. Could they really do nothing but act normal around Solomon, and accept that this was now their new life? No demons, no angels, just... humans around them?

Before they could slap the thought away, a loud banging coming from the entrance door made them straighten in their seat, their head turning towards the hallway in a panic. Their heart pounded inside their chest as the banging seemed to go on forever, until they used the back of their chair to push themself up, their legs shaking.

"S...Solomon?" They asked, way too silently for anyone to hear, and fully knowing that the person behind the door couldn't be the wizard.

As if they were waiting for an answer, MC stood there, their hand grasped onto the chair. The banging was insistent, demanding, angry. At this time of night, there were few reasons they could think why someone would mistreat their door in such a way, and MC wasn't sure they wanted to find the reason for it.

That is, until the person behind the door finally let their voice be heard.

"Oi, MC! Ya can hear me right?! Come on, open the door!"

It didn't take long for MC to let the familiar voice enter their ears, and it took less time for them to nearly stumble over the chair as their legs moved in a hurry to lead them towards the door as quickly as possible. Their hands messily trying to open the locks on the door, they were sure their mind had just played a trick on them, and the person outside was going to leave them completely disappointed, but they didn't care. This voice they could only remember so well despite the time since they had last heard it, was simply inviting them to open the door, to check for themselves whether it was true, or just a nasty joke played by their brain.

But as the last lock was undone, and the door was swung open, MC couldn't do anything but just stand there, their mouth agape.

Mammon kept on drawing breaths, his wet hair stuck to his forehead and drops of rain falling from his clothes onto the floor below, so much so that it had started to create a small puddle underneath him. As if the person who opened the door wasn't the one he expected, the demon took a step back, letting his eyes wander up and down on the human he had in front of him, almost in an attempt to check if it was really them. He too, couldn't stop his mouth from hanging open at the sight.

The two of them just stood there for a few seconds, taken by so many emotions at once that they weren't sure what to do. But right as Mammon took a step forward, his mouth opening some more to let out words that he so desperately had wanted to say for so long now, MC's face contorted into one of pure sadness before they rushed towards him. Mammon greedily welcomed them into his arms as they jumped and wrapped their arms around his shoulders, and their legs around his waist. They buried their face into his neck, the warmth of their tears mixing with the rain on his skin.

His embrace only tightened even more as they mumbled his name amidst broken sobs, the sound ever so close to his ear that even though he had his eyes firmly closed, he might have cried on the spot too. But he had found them. He had them in his arms again. After what had seemed like a million years, finally, they were back where they belonged, and he was back with his human.

Almost as if they were about to be pulled away from him, Mammon placed a hand on the back of their head, wanting to protect their entire being from harm no matter the cost. He still wasn't sure why it had taken so long for him to reunite with them despite the obstacles, but at the present moment, nothing else could matter.

The lord had finally found them, and he wasn't about to let anyone interfer between their happiness once more.

"I ain't letting you go." He whispered through gritted teeth, his head lowering into their shoulder. "Ever again."

[the-z-part]

A Personal List of Lietners, or Book Recs for Each TMA Entity

These are not all horror novels (although some of them are), but I think they speak to themes that will resonate if you’re particularly into one fear or another.

Feel free to add your own recs! I’m obviously limited by what I’ve read (ie I suspect that Wilder Girls is a good corruption book, but I haven’t read it yet). 

Books with canon queer characters are marked with an asterix! 

The Eye

- The Children’s Hour* by Lillian Hellman. An accusation made by one of the students brings scrutiny and heartbreak to a girls’ school. OG queer tragedy. (CW: suicide)

The Spiral

- Finna* by Nino Cipri. Two exes working at fantasy!IKEA must find a lost customer by travelling through even-more-fantasy!IKEAs.

- “The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gillman. Imprisoned by a husband who thinks he’s helping her, a woman sees a figure in the ugly wallpaper of her room. You read it for English class, but read it again.

- Challenger Deep by Neal Shusterman. Caden’s a normal teen whose friends and family are starting to notice that his mental health is not quite ideal. Caden is on a ship heading for the Marianas Trench, torn between loyalty to the captain and the allure of the deep. (You know that song Ship in a Bottle?) (CW: forced institutionalization)

The End

- They Both Die at the End* by Adam Silvera. Two teen boys get a call that they’re going to die (this is normal in the world). They meet, and decide to spend the day really living.

- Scythe by Neal Shusterman. In a utopia that has moved past natural death, two teenagers learn to kill for the greater good.

The Stranger

- The Murders of Molly Southborne by Tade Thompson. Every time Molly bleeds, her blood creates a perfect clone of her that wants to kill her. This is inconvenient to say the least.

- The Call by Peader Ó Guilín. In a fantasy future Ireland, teenagers train for the day they’ll be transported to the fairy realm, where they’ll be hunted for sport.

- Coraline by Neil Gaiman. Coraline finds a secret passage to a house just like hers, but full of delightful, magical things--and another mother who wants to keep her forever.

The Lonely

- Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel. The food Tita cooks make those who eat it feel her emotions--it’s the closest anyone comes to understanding her.

The Desolation

- The Fifth Season* by N K Jemisin. Geology-magic causes an apocalypse, but it might also keep a grieving mother alive.

The Slaughter

- The Lamb Will Slaughter the Lion* by Margaret Killjoy. A spirit summoned to protect a commune starts killing people. Queer and punk rock af

- The Light Brigade by Kameron Hurley. “They said the war would turn us into light.”

The Vast

- To Be Taught, If Fortunate* by Becky Chambers. A group of astronauts jump from planet to planet, cataloguing the life they find. But then their updates from home stop arriving...

- Into the Drowning Deep* by Mira Grant. Killer mermaids, hard science, and genuinely every kind of rep you can think of! (also has some Stranger stuff going on in it)

The Buried

- The Unfortunates by Kim Liggett. Teens are trapped in a cave while hiking, and something is hunting them through the dark. (Ok, I couldn’t actually think of a book for this fear, but I asked the inimitable @acesaru and she recommended it. She hasn’t steered me wrong yet!) 

The Dark

- The City in the Middle of the Night* by Charlie Jane Anders. Humanity struggles to survive on a tidally-locked planet: one side is pitch dark, the other blazing with light. Sophie, a student, is exiled into the darkness.

- The City of Ember by Jeanne DuPrau. Ember is the one bright spot in the darkness, but blackouts are becoming more frequent as the city falls apart, and only Lina and Doon seem to be paying attention.

The Corruption

- The Hot Zone by Richard Preston. Ebola!  It’s the only nonfiction on the list but Oh Boy. (CW for graphic depictions of illness)

- Code Orange by Caroline B. Cooney. Can you get smallpox from a book? Mitty isn’t sure, but these terrorists seem to think so...

The Web

- The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson. “No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within” (It really does have themes about, like, manipulation, but also join me in mixing Hill House and Hilltop Road up 100% of the time)

- Jane, Unlimited* by Kristin Cashore. An orphaned artist goes to a spooky house. She has to make a choice, and we see every possible consequence for that choice. Genre-bending and bi!

- Middlegame by Seanan McGuire. Psychically-linked twins, Rodger and Dodger, are manipulated by the alchemist who created them and controlled (almost) every aspect of their lives. Weird timeline shit!

The Flesh

- The Belles by Dhonielle Clayton. Girls with the power to mold bodies and make people beautiful vie to become the Queen’s favorite in the beautiful, dangerous court of Orleans.

- Unwind by Neil Shusterman. Three teens scheduled to be “unwound” and have all their organs sold to other people flee their fate. Some really gnarly body horor.

The Hunt

- Vicious by V. E. Schwab. Victor and Eli used to be best friends, but after years in prison, Victor will stop at nothing to get his revenge on Eli. Also, they both have superpowers. 

- “The Most Dangerous Game” by Richard Cornell. A long short story about. the hunter becoming the hunted. Spoiler: the most dangerous game IS man. 

The Extinction

- Borne by Jeff Vandermeer. The Company destroyed the world, and then a giant bear destroyed the Company. Only a few survivors remain, including Rachel, a scavenger, who finds a creature called Borne and decides to care for it, even as it grows increasingly stronger and more terrifying. 

- Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler. A girl who literally feels others’ pain quietly develops a religion while America crumbles around her. (CW: sexual relationship with a really big age gap)

- All the Birds in the Sky* by Charlie Jane Anders. A witch and a mad scientist fall in love at the end of the world. The most real-feeling apocalypse I’ve ever, ever read. (Not really a CW but if reading things that remind you of Current Events makes you uncomfy, beware, because Charlie Jane really nailed it) 

[readyplayerhobi]

Silver Bells and Cockle Shells

; Widower Single Dad!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Angst, fluff, smut

; Word Count: 22.2k

; Warnings: Mentions of death, grief, depression, insinuated blowjob and car sex, penetrative sex, masturbation, fingering

; Synopsis: Jung Hoseok has three beautiful daughters whom he loves more than anything in the world; Soo-ah, Ji-eun and Ji-soo. For five years now, it’s been only them and him against the world. But what happens when he wants to bring someone new into their lives?

; A/N: Hello, this is something I just randomly got in my head. Was meant to be a drabble...ha, evidently not. I half edited this but full honesty, I got bored and just wanted it out! If you like it, pleeeease reblog it! Leave me lovely comments and feedback, send asks and like it! I hope you enjoy this and that...it’s not boring or anything ;-;

; Sequel - Sleigh Bells Ring

-

“Soo-ah!” Hoseok cursed, frowning deeply as he bent over and picked up the toothbrush she’d carelessly dropped to the floor after she’d brushed her teeth for bed. “Pick up your stuff after yourself!”

Sometimes he felt like he spent half his day chasing around after his daughters to put his house back together. Honestly, going to work could be classed as a relief at this stage in his life. Pausing for a moment, he stared at himself in the finger printed mirror before letting out a deep sigh and rolling his eyes. 

He was too young to be thinking like that. At only 33, he was pretty sure that he should only just be experiencing the stress he’d endured for the past ten years. His friends certainly were only just beginning to understand what he’d gone through.

Already, Jimin had started whining about how tired he was with his newborn son which was making Namjoon start to blanch whenever they met up and the conversation started. His own wife was due in three months and Hoseok was looking forward to being as smug as humanly possible whenever the younger man complained himself.

They’d all had to endure years of Namjoon saying it can’t be that bad and encouraging them all to simply remain calm and all that bullshit he spouted in his daily role as a psychiatrist. It had made Hoseok want to hiss fire at him when the man had no concept of trying to cope with two colicky babies alongside a five-year-old who tantrumed over the wrong breakfast cereal.

The man had it coming, Hoseok swore. A small, sinister part of him was hoping that Namjoon’s baby would be the antichrist but then he pushed that thought away. In actuality, he hoped that Namjoon and his wife would have the most pleasant experience as parents.

No matter what, he was positive it would be better than his own experience.

Putting the toothbrush back into its place, he crouched down to grab the cleaner and sprayed the mirror in an even coating, placing the bottle back before grabbing a cloth and wiping the mirror clean. It was stupid, but the pristine surface soothed a part of him that screamed out at the sheer tornado of chaos his children caused.

His love for his daughters was infinite and he would happily give up his own life to protect them and ensure their unending happiness; but sometimes he also just wanted to scream in frustration. Sighing heavily, he rests his hands on the counter and looks down into the sink, brows furrowing together once more as he notes the stains of toothpaste spit that has dried on the porcelain and a deep groan runs through him.

A full clean of the house will have to be done this weekend. He’ll have time to do it as his parents are taking the girls to the aquarium and then a movie for the day after a sleepover. And then, after a whole day of cleaning, they would come back to a nice house with everything in its place and it would all go back to looking exactly how it had in the morning within hours.

Rubbing his hand over his face, he licks at his lips and looks back in the mirror. Said hand soon moves to run through his hair, pushing the sleek, black strands out of his face and he notes idly that he needs to get it cut. The sides are getting too long and he scowls slightly, pushing at the hair that should be shaved close to the sides of his head.

Maybe he could take the girls to get their hair done and then ask if the hairdresser would quickly do his as well. They’d be entertained with each other for a while, surely? Or maybe he could run out on Saturday while they’re gone and get it sorted. He did need to go shopping to buy groceries for dinner and it would make sense to do it at the same time. Hoseok had become very adept at finding time to fit multiple things together.

His stomach flipped nervously as he thought about dinner. 

If everything went right with the conversation he was about to have with his girls, then Saturday evening would be the first time he would introduce you to them. For five years now, Hoseok had raised his beloved daughters as a single father.

It hadn’t been out of choice. 

His eldest daughter, Soo-ah had turned ten-years-old in March this year. She’d been born when he was 23, a surprise pregnancy with his college sweetheart. They’d married a year later and Hoseok had enjoyed four wonderful and happy years with Soo-ah and the woman he’d considered the love of his life, Yoo-jin. 

A second pregnancy occurred when they had both been 27; this time it was planned and very much wanted. On October 29th, two beautiful twin girls had been born and Hoseok’s heart had swollen even more with love and affection. Ji-eun and Ji-soo were perfection in human form to him.

October 29th had also been the last day his wife had been alive. 

Complications from the strain of birthing both girls had taken his wife from him, and he’d suddenly been alone in the world with three daughters relying on him. Grief had taken a backseat as he’d thrown himself into the three innocent lives that needed him so desperately and it had been the hardest thing he’d ever done.

Crippling depression had hit him hard with the loss of Yoo-jin and sometimes the very sight of his kids had caused him to burst into tears as he’d thought about how she wouldn’t get to see their daughters grow and experience life. It had been even harder with two newborn girls who had demanded every moment of his time and attention, leading to him having to take time off work as a software engineer at first and then work from home once his leave ran out.

What had been even worse though, was that not only was he trying to cope with his own grief but that he also had to cope with Soo-ah’s. She’d been only five-years-old. Her mommy and daddy had gone to the hospital one day and had promised to bring back her baby siblings.

Only daddy and two sisters had come home. She hadn’t understood why mommy wasn’t coming back and for two whole months, Soo-ah started and ended every day asking when mommy was coming home. Everytime, his eyes had watered and his throat tightened as he’d had to tell her that mommy wasn’t going to come home, that she’d gone to the sky to watch after them all.

They say kids understand more than you expect, but it had still taken a long time for her to grasp the concept that her mommy was gone. He hadn’t been able to say that she had died, and he’d broken down the night that she’d turned six. Hoseok had tried to make it a happy and fun time for her, but it had only been five months since Yoo-jin had passed and Soo-ah hadn’t been coping too well.

She’d been happy at the start of her party, accepting her presents from all her friends and her many uncles and aunts who doted on her immensely. Her grandparents had already visited earlier in the day and Hoseok knew that everyone was spoiling her to try and make up for the one thing missing from her day.

Later on, she’d begun to act out and had a tantrum that resulted in the party ending earlier than expected. Hoseok had known that she might exhibit behaviour like this; she was just a child and it was a big emotion for her to compute. The happiness and excitement of everything, combined with seeing the other kids with their mom’s had simply been too much.

When he’d put her to bed that night, giving her lots of extra kisses and cuddles, she’d been quiet and sullen. It had broken his heart and yet again, he hadn’t known what to do. There wasn’t a manual for this.

But what had destroyed him had been what she asked him, her voice tiny and more than a little fragile as she curled up in his arms beneath her Mickey Mouse bedding. 

“Mommy’s dead. That’s why she’s not coming home. Right?” How he had got the strength to carry on that conversation with her without falling apart right then and there, he’d never known. But he had. And then he had checked on the twins before falling into his own bed, his pillow soaked with his own tears as pain had eaten at him.

Five years had passed since, and with time it had gotten a little better. His heart no longer aches when he thinks of Yoo-jin and he could talk about her openly with a smile. He made sure to keep her photos in the house for his daughters, reminding them of their mom and letting them know that she loved them. Each of their rooms, the single for Soo-ah and the room that Ji-eun and Ji-soo shared as they refused to sleep apart, was decorated with pictures of Yoo-jin and Hoseok.

It made him sad to know that he had no photos of Yoo-jin and the twins for them, but they’d never asked about her either. They had never grown up with a mom, so they never thought anything of it. Soo-ah had though, and while she had slowly turned back into the happy and loving girl he’d known, he knew that she would never forget her mom.

Nor would he want her to.

But for five years, he’d only limited himself to one-night-stand’s in which both he and the recipient were abundantly clear that there wasn’t going to be anything further. He hadn’t wanted to engage in romance, hadn’t wanted his feelings to get involved. All he had wanted was the relief of an orgasm and the intimacy of another person for a few hours.

His parents had encouraged him to go on a few blind dates in the last two years, and he had done so reluctantly. Even Yoo-jin’s parents had told him that they wanted him to be happy, even if that meant finding someone new to love.

It was hard though. He’d felt disloyal with the first few dates, even if they’d just ended up in casual sex before never seeing each other again. Most of them hadn’t been interested in anything further with a man who had three young daughters. He hadn’t been interested in them once they gave him that opinion.

So he hadn’t bothered mentioning it after, because he simply hadn’t wanted to engage in anything that would involve feelings. 

Until you.

He’d met you a year ago, when Jungkook’s wife had brought you to one of his summer barbecue get togethers. It had been before anyone else in their friend group besides from Hoseok and Seokjin had had kids, so it had been deemed a kid free event to allow the parents to kick back and relax.

Yoo-jin’s parents had taken the kids for the day and Hoseok had got to simply be himself for a few hours without having the stress of constantly checking on what his kids were doing. He’d discovered that three children meant three times the amount of potential damage and carnage that could be caused, and minus another parent figure resulted in just overall disaster material.

Hoseok still shuddered in horror whenever he thought of the supermarket experience from two years ago. Even now, he refused to go back there from sheer embarrassment.

But you had simply been there as a friend, and at first he hadn’t even paid attention to you in any way other than simple respect. You’d been sweet and friendly, if a bit shy as it had been obvious that everyone knew each other except for you. Chae-young, Jungkook’s wife, was a colleague of yours and you’d become close through a mutual love of equestrian activities.

At the time, that was as much as he’d known about you alongside your name, age and that you were the manager of a sales team in an office. There hadn’t been any need for him to know more, but by the end of the night he’d been quietly endeared by you.

He hadn’t laughed as much in years, his smile bright and wide on his face while he talked intently with you. For three whole hours, you’d both been in a little bubble of shared mutual interests from tennis to dancing to pop culture. Neither had noticed the subtle glances everyone was giving each other as they watched their friend, who had spent so many years with his light dim and subdued, come to life before their eyes.

Before he’d even realised what he was doing, you had both swapped numbers and he’d enjoyed a few weeks of casual interaction via text. He’d enjoyed the conversation with someone new and had been determined to not let his busy life get in the way.

Even better, you’d already known about his kids and hadn’t been bothered in the slightest. In fact, you’d even been inquisitive and he’d happily discussed them, pride behind every word. The texts had soon turned into phone conversations which soon turned into video chats.

Soon enough, he’d been meeting you for lunch in the city at a cafe that was between both your workplaces. Hoseok hadn’t realised how close Chae-young worked to him until then, and he’d enjoyed his lunches more than he ever had with the easy conversation that flowed between you both. 

It was ironic really. He’d spent so long not looking for anything that he didn’t even realise when something wonderful fell right into his lap. And you were wonderful, beyond wonderful.

For the first time in over a decade, Hoseok had gone to bed early to simply lay there, curled up under the covers, while he texted you like a teenage boy with his first crush. And that’s what he’d felt like, even if he hadn’t quite realised it. Every text had made his stomach flip and every call made him breathless with nerves.

He found himself going to the bathroom before lunch, checking over his hair and looks before meeting up with you. Things he saw in the store that reminded him of you found their way into his basket before ending up in your hands, all to see that pretty smile that made him feel so funny.

It had been so long since he’d dated properly, so long since he’d liked anyone in more than just a lust filled euphoria, that he just hadn’t realised what was happening. And it had taken his mom, of all people, to point it out to him.

He’d been at theirs one afternoon, the girls playing in the living room with the toys their grandparents had accumulated over the years while he sat at the island in the kitchen. His mom had been watching him for five whole minutes instead of preparing the meal for that night, observing the way her son smiled and laughed to himself, eyes locked on his screen.

It had made tears come to her eyes when she had realised that she hadn’t seen him like this since Yoo-jin had been alive. She had queried him who he was talking to, causing him to casually say your name without a second thought. And then she had asked him how long he had been dating you, which had thrown him for a loop.

“I’m not dating her. We’re just friends.” He hadn’t even realised he’d said those fateful words out loud, hadn’t realised the meaning of what he’d just said. In his mind, that was exactly what you were. Friends.

Which was why his mom had given me an exasperated smile and a shake of her head. “Hoseok, sweetheart. If you’re not dating her, then you should be. I haven’t seen you this happy in...a long time. Especially not with another woman.”

Hoseok had frozen then, staring down at his phone with a frown as his mother’s words had finally penetrated the shield that he had held so tightly around his heart for half a decade now. The last text you had sent him had been something stupid, but he’d gripped his phone tight as he’d realised she was right. You made him happy, you made him want to try.

And that made him feel guilty.

She’d spent the rest of the afternoon convincing him that it was okay to move on, to truly move on and find happiness with someone else. That night, he’d refrained from texting you as he’d tried to compute his newfound emotions and find a place for them to sit alongside everything else in him.

For so long, he’d thought that Yoo-jin would have been the only woman for him. The woman that he would grow old with, be buried next to and so forth. And then she had died at only 28, and he’d been without her once more. He’d spent years convinced that he should stay loyal to her, after all, they hadn’t broken up.

But as he’d laid there that night, he’d worked through the guilt that wracked him as he’d realised that he didn’t want to be alone anymore. He didn’t want to wake up alone, in a cold bed and come home to only his children. Hoseok loved his kids, he truly did, but he wanted someone that he could talk to, laugh with, argue with if necessary, be intimate with. 

He wanted someone to love again, and he wanted to be loved in turn.

Everyone had always said that he had a big heart, always ready to bestow it on whoever had his affections that day. A smile that could light up the sun and so forth. And for five years, he’d only poured love into his daughters because they were all he had.

As he’d gone to sleep that night, he had contented himself with the knowledge that he was no longer happy with his lonely situation. But he planned to do something about it, because he had also realised that he liked you, and he wanted to pour that love into you too if you would let him.

The very next lunch he had with you, he had asked you on a date. His confidence had faltered halfway through as panic had suddenly set in, worry that you wouldn’t want to date a 33-year-old father of three. But you had smiled brightly, face lighting up with such happiness and excitement that he’d been unable to not smile back, before eagerly accepting.

That had been six months ago, and he had fallen in love with you slowly every day since.

Despite this though, he had yet to introduce you to the girls. There were many reasons for this and he’d been pleased that you had accepted them all without complaint. The most important reason was because Hoseok hadn’t wanted to introduce anyone to them if it wasn’t going to end up serious.

It would just hurt them if you broke up and they never saw you again, and he wasn’t ready to impart that kind of emotional turmoil on his little girls. Secondly, he hadn’t wanted to pressure you into doing anything with his kids when you didn’t have to. You weren’t their mom, nor were you looking to be and he didn’t want to force that role on you. 

He’d wanted you to feel comfortable enough to finally meet them, and he’d wanted to feel comfortable enough in his relationship for you to meet them. But also, he’d just wanted to enjoy you to himself without the interference of children.

Hoseok loved his kids, he would never give them up and his whole life revolved around them really. Yet his relationship with you was the first thing in five years that he’d had solely to himself, untouched by their presence. He felt selfish thinking that way, but he’d just wanted to enjoy you a little longer without the pressure of parental expectations.

After six months though, he’d finally decided that it was time. It had been a huge decision, and he’d agonised over it a few weeks before finally talking it through with you. He’d had to be sure that you even wanted to meet them, because as worried as he was for how his daughters would react to you, he couldn’t even imagine what it must be like for you.

You’d started dating him in the knowledge he had three kids, but knowing and actually seeing and being a part of those small lives was entirely different. Most women probably didn’t start dating someone with a ready made family, and he’d stressed a little over that.

Dating him seriously meant you would be directly involved with his daughters. He didn’t want you to think that he wanted a second mom for them, because he didn’t and he doubted his daughters wanted that either, but it would be hard for you to avoid some parental activities.

And that wasn’t even thinking about whether or not you actually wanted children in the future. There was a chance that you might think he might not want more kids because he already had three, but you had none. Overall, it had taken a lot of thinking before he’d finally proposed the idea of introducing you.

He wanted to be able to bring you home, cuddle up with you on the couch after a long day without having to worry about the girls finding out. Eventually move onto you staying the night, hopefully one day in the future even moving in together. He had kids, yes, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t have a relationship like everyone else.

Hoseok wanted to give you as normal a relationship as he could, despite the three extra people he came with as standard.

You’d been sweet about the whole thing though, consoling him and letting him know that you were supportive of whatever decision he made. There weren’t enough words in the English language for him to convey how much he appreciated how easy-going you were about it all and he’d just fallen even harder for you.

It was a little odd really, how quickly he’d realised he loved you. Admittedly, he’d spent months without even realising he liked you, but he’d told you those three special words within three months. He’d taken half a year to tell Yoo-jin, and he wasn’t sure what that meant. If it meant anything.

But all of this was completely moot if his girls decided they didn’t want to meet you. They were allowed that decision, and Hoseok was fully prepared to love you separately for a while until they got used to the idea. He didn’t want to, but he wouldn’t force someone onto them if they didn’t want it. Nor was he willing to break up with you solely for that reason.

He loves his daughters, but he refuses to let them rule his life entirely. Just as he works hard they’re happy, he knows that he’s entitled to happiness himself.

Pushing away from the counter, he takes a deep breath before heading into the twin’s room. The bathroom was the one all the girl’s shared while he had his own thanks to the en-suite. Something he was positive that he was going to be very thankful for when they all hit teenage years.

The twin’s room was pure chaos, as expected. He’d long since given up trying to keep this room tidy. Instead, he would simply go through once a day and make it look less like a bomb had gone off in it. 

There was plenty of room in the house for them to have a room each, there were actually two spare bedrooms in this ridiculously large house he’d bought with Yoo-jin years ago. It had been cheap purely because it had needed to have a lot of stuff fixed in it, but over the years he’d worked with both friends and family to turn it into the family home it was today.

But splitting the twins up had proven to be an unthinkable act. He’d tried it once when they were four and they’d screamed and cried for hours before going quiet. Thinking they were asleep, he’d gone to check on them only to discover that Ji-eun had gotten out of her bed and was curled up in Ji-soo’s bed.

The very next day, he’d moved her stuff back into the room and they’d been content ever since. Twins were funny, he mused to himself as he watched them both lying beneath Ji-eun’s Iron Man bedding, his iPad in Ji-soo’s hands as they both watched a movie.

He had refused to let them have an iPad, even a joint-owned one as he didn’t want to end up being that dad whose kids spent all their time on a screen. Even now, they were limited to only two hours of screen time a day. Soo-ah was the same, only she was allowed to use the computer to do her homework when necessary as well.

It caused them to whine a lot but he instead encouraged them to play, read books or even use the board games he’d bought. Thankfully, they were pretty happy with it despite the minor whining but he knew that his policy was going to have to change soon. Particularly for Soo-ah.

“Hey you two, how are my little pumpkins?” He said with a bright smile as he crouched down next to the bed. Two sets of identical eyes flicked over to him, their warm chocolate depths filled with sleepiness and fondness swelled in him.

“Hi daddy,” Ji-soo whispered, the tiny mole on her cheek being the only way to distinguish her from her younger sister. Her black hair shone with health in the warm light of the Avengers lamp on the bedside table and Hoseok reached out, stroking the flyaway strands down. Ji-eun was too busy watching the iPad and he smiled, resting his head on the bed next to them both and watching quietly.

There was only a few more minutes until it was over, and he took the tablet from them before switching it off and placing it next to him on the floor. The door creaked open and all three looked over, taking in Soo-ah’s frown as she looked at her sisters and dad.

He’d asked her to come into the twins room once she’d gotten into her pyjamas and he grinned at her mismatching clothes. A Mickey Mouse t-shirt was combined with Batman bottoms but he chose not to say anything as she flipped her long, black hair behind her shoulder in a movement that reminded him so strongly of Yoo-jin.

The twins were growing to look like him, but Soo-ah was all Yoo-jin. It was a soft ache sometimes to look at her, but it just made him love her all the more.

Gesturing to her with an open arm, she tucked herself into his side where he knelt and he kissed the crown of her head with a loud ‘mwah’, enjoying the way she wiggled and whined in protest. She was reaching the age where affection from him was met with embarrassment but he didn’t care.

“Are you all excited to go to grandma and grandpa’s tomorrow?” All three of them nod, excitement lighting up their eyes and he has to bite his inner cheek to stop the grin that wants to paint itself onto his face. His parents spoil them, they truly do. He has no doubt when he picks them up on Saturday that they’ll have eaten their weight in sugary goods and will likely have another toy each.

“Good, they’re looking forward to having you too. I want you all on your best behaviour, yeah?” Each little girl gives another nod and he goes soft with pride for them all. They were truly the most important things in his life and he squeezed Soo-ah a little tighter in response.

“So...err,” He paused, brow creasing as he realised that he didn’t know how to go about this. “On Saturday, we’re going to have dinner with someone. She’s...she’s someone very special to daddy.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Ji-soo asks innocently, her eyes filling with curiosity and he smiles in response, running his fingers through her hair once more before nodding.

“Yes...she is. I...she’s been daddy’s friend for a while now, and daddy really likes her. So...I want to make sure that you all are okay with that? I don’t want to bring her if you’re not going to be happy.” This is possibly one of the most awkward he’s things he’s done in a while but he preserves, hoping that his daughters will understand and accept.

“Do you love her?” Ji-eun asks and Hoseok freezes, his eyes widening. He feels it’s far too soon to confirm that for them when he’s only just telling them so he shakes his head instead, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

“I like her a lot. She makes me very happy and I want you all to get to meet her. She’s excited to meet you if you want to. But it’s only if you want to.” There’s silence for a few moments more before the twins nod enthusiastically with smiles that resemble his own so much.

“Okay daddy.” They both respond at the same time, causing him to chuckle as that odd twin telepathy happens again. It weirded him out sometimes but it mostly just made him glad that they had each other.

Soo-ah hasn’t responded and he looks down at her, noting the way her eyes are downcast and her body is tight. His heart sinks slightly, knowing that she was going to be the one that he had the most trouble with. 

She was the one who remembered her mom, who vaguely remembered scenes of her mommy and daddy hugging and kissing, whispering they loved each other. It was always going to be the hardest with her, and he wondered how long it would take for her to accept it. If she ever did.

But then she surprises him with a slight shrug, her fingers tracing unseen shapes into his jean covered thigh, her lips pursed out in a tiny pout. “Okay dad.”

Her tone isn’t nearly as enthusiastic as the twins and he frowns slightly, kissing the twins goodnight and turning the lamp off before he gently encourages Soo-ah out of the room. She doesn’t speak on the way to her own bedroom, the interior of this room a soft purple that’s decorated with numerous horse posters.

Without a word, she climbs into her bed and curls up with her back to him underneath the covers. His heart clenched tightly as he sits down next to her, the mattress dipping and causing her to roll slightly towards him. Neither says anything for a moment as he simply runs his fingers through her hair gently, enjoying the way it feels and thinking about how big his little girl was getting.

“Soo-ah? Are you really okay with it? It’s okay if you’re not,” He whispered, looking away from her to the bookcase opposite him that’s filled to the brim with books. “She’s nice, I think you’ll like her. She goes horse-riding and knows so much about them.” 

“What about mommy?” And there it is, the very thing he was looking forward to least. His breath leaves him in a deep and heavy sigh while his head drops down momentarily as he tries to put his thoughts together into cohesive speech. This is all very new and alien to her and he’d always known it was going to be a tougher sell to her than the twins. They’d only ever had daddy, she’d had both.

“Mommy is still here with us Soo-soo, she’s not being forgotten. I still love her so much and I know that she still loves you. Y/N isn’t going to replace mommy, I swear.” Soo-ah stays curled up, her body tight and he grits his teeth, hating that he had to go through this with her.

“What if you fall in love with Y/N and forget about mommy? I don’t want another mommy. What if she’s mean? What if she hates us and tells you that she doesn’t want us?” Wow, this is way more questions than he’d anticipated from merely asking if they’d be okay with meeting you but he got the suspicion that these were things Soo-ah had worried over for the last few years.

Which meant he had to go very carefully, otherwise things could go very wrong.

“You’re not going to get another mommy, I don’t want that for you. You had one mommy, and you always will. Y/N doesn’t want make you unhappy, she’s not expecting you to love her or treat her like a mom. She also doesn’t hate you and she would never tell me make me choose. She’s known about you all the whole time I’ve known her and she’s excited to meet you all. I’ve told her so much about my smart girls. And she’s not mean. She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t bring someone into your life that I didn’t trust and like. I swear Soo-soo.”

She’s quiet for a moment longer before shrugging again, her body relaxing as she lets out a deep sigh. “Okay,” His shoulders relax as he senses the acknowledgement in that one word. “I love you daddy.”

Biting his lip, he knows that she’s still not entirely okay with it and he also knows that he’s going to have to be very careful on Saturday. He loves Soo-ah, but he knows that she can be temperamental around things like this, with valid reason, obviously. But he also knows that she doesn’t really know what to think, hence her calling him ‘daddy’, something that she hadn’t done for 3 years now.

“I love you too Soo-soo.” Bending over, he kisses her head goodnight before leaving her room too, resting his back against her door as he lets his head fall back and a deep sigh leaves him. He hopes you know how much he truly loves you with how willing he is to let you into his life, because for him and his little family, this is the biggest earthquake to strike since the death of Yoo-jin.

Only this time, he hopes that that result afterwards would be happy instead of painful.

-

Hoseok lets out a happy groan of delight as he bites into the greasy pizza, the tangy cheese contrasting wonderfully to the meaty pepperoni and rich tomato base. It tastes far too good and a voice in the back of his mind tuts at the wilful carbs he’s adding into his body. He’s not as young as he once was and keeping off the weight was beginning to be a little harder nowadays, but he pushed that thought firmly away.

You liked his body, even if he wasn’t as toned as he had been ten years ago. But whatever, you weren’t dating 23-year-old Hoseok and 33-year-old Hoseok didn’t give a damn when the pizza tasted this fucking good. 

A light chuckle sounded from his right and he glanced over, finding you watching him with amusement dancing in your eyes while a bemused smile played on your lips as you chewed on your own slice of pizza. Once you’d realised that you’d caught his attention, you swallow your piece before leaning over to wipe at the grease on his lips with undeniable affection and his stomach felt a little bit fuzzy.

He was being honest when he said that you made him happy, because you really did. In fact, he was pretty sure that this was the happiest he had been in five years and sometimes he got a little sappy and emotional about it. So long had been spent purposefully isolating himself for his daughters that he hadn’t really understood what he was missing out on again.

But, he conceded to himself, he was glad of that as well. Because he wouldn’t have started a relationship with you if he’d started dating earlier. So he was content with his earlier decisions, content with you.

Having kids and losing a wife had really turned him way more emotional than he’d used to be, but he reasoned that it was okay. He’d just learned what it was like to lose something he loved dearly, and he had spent years regretting not loving Yoo-jin more fiercely. Which was why he was determined to make sure that you knew exactly how much he loved you, for however long you both lasted.

He would not make the same mistake twice.

“Enjoying that?” You ask him, expression mischievous as you take the pizza crust he hands you and start to eat it with a joyful hum. Hoseok simply watches for a moment before nodding with a grin.

“Do you know...how nice it is to get to eat junk food?” A snort leaves you as you roll your eyes, shifting until your back is against the cushion on the couch and you pull your legs up. You’re only wearing some bed shorts and an oversized logo shirt with the Star Wars logo on it, both faded from overwashing but still comfortable.

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? You’re the one who chooses the meals in your house. If you want junk food, then just eat junk food.” The way you say it is completely casual but Hoseok gasps in mock outrage, a hand resting on his chest.

“How rude! You’re supposed to be complimenting me on how wonderful of a father I am because I make sure my daughters are eating the healthiest food! Did you know, we haven’t had chocolate in our house for over a year now? Only health snacks allowed.” A droll stare is all he gets in response and he squirms slightly, trying his hardest not to let his lower lip pout out.

You were two years younger than him and also childless, yet sometimes he felt like you were the older one and also the parent. 

“Blatantly false. I distinctly remember you eating a Kit Kat the other week in bed when we facetimed. I thought lying was bad Hobi?” You’ve got him there and he finally lets his lips purse before he chuckles in defeat, nodding his head.

“Okay fine, we have one day of junk food a week. But they’re not allowed anything unhealthy unless they’ve done something really good, like got a really good grade or done some chores around the house. Me on the other hand...well, let’s say I might have a secret stash hidden somewhere in the house that little girl’s can’t reach.” His hand waves airily as he speaks and you burst into laughter, reaching out with one foot to push at his thigh.

Without even thinking about it, he lowers his hand to rest on your leg and runs his fingers along your skin affectionately. There’s no pizza left anymore and instead he focuses on sliding his hands along your calf, digging into the muscles there and massaging gently until you let out a soft sigh.

Silence falls between you both, the comfortable kind where neither of you feels the need to speak. The television is playing some Netflix Original series while the lingering scent of pizza still fills the air.

He’d come over to yours for the night, enjoying the fact that he was actually able to spend the whole night with you. His parents had asked to have the girls last week tonight and he’d agreed happily, knowing that it meant he could spend more time than usual with you. Staying over was only possible when the girl’s were not home, and that was pretty rare.

Your apartment was pretty small, the size dictated by what you could afford in combination with the car you had and the salary you earnt. But he liked it all the same. It was filled with a combination of pop culture in the form of figurines and plushies everywhere alongside beautiful paintings that hung on the walls or elegant photographs of landscapes. 

Candles dotted the area, a few lit to fight the pizza scent with vanilla and he smiled as he felt himself relax both physically and mentally. There was no hint of children here, no toys thrown around or crayons half hidden underneath furniture. He obviously loved his kids but sometimes it was nice to just...have somewhere that didn’t look like Toys R Us had thrown up in it. 

In actuality, he found dating as an adult slightly odd. The last time he’d properly dated had been with Yoo-jin, and that had been over ten years ago. He’d been a student when they’d got together, only 21 and he’d had a young adult’s mindset to go with it too. At the time, all he cared about was his grades, partying, getting drunk and getting laid.

Not necessarily in that order.

Okay, definitely not in that order.

A job, taxes, bills, childcare, children and so forth hadn’t even entered his head really. Dating back then had simply meant meeting up with Yoo-jin after class and going back to the apartment he’d shared with Yoongi and Namjoon, fooling around for a few hours before crashing in bed. Maybe going to a party or actually doing his homework.

The most stress he’d had was exam period, or maybe that time he forgot to hand in his term paper and he’d been handed his ass by Professor Lee in History of Medieval Europe. That hadn’t been fun.

Dating had been almost...relaxing with how carefree it had been. How unburdened with the stress and realities of life.

Dating now was far different. Now he had to fit in his dates with you in his lunch breaks or the rare evening he could get someone to watch the girls. Talking was relegated to when they were in bed and a lot of the conversations often ended up being about world events or problems with a job or co-worker. It felt mundane and if he thought about it, boring, but he oddly didn’t mind.

Being with Yoo-jin in the early stages had been exciting and fun, dates being extravagant and wild. Being you was different. In Yoo-jin, he’d sought excitement but with you he sought comfort and quiet. A way to simply be Jung Hoseok, the man, again instead of being Jung Hoseok the father or colleague.

He felt a little sad that he didn’t get to experience the wildness with you, but then again, he felt far too tired for that anyway. It was only 8pm and he was already contemplating asking if you wanted to go to bed. Not even for sex, but just because he was tired. 

Though he wouldn’t say no to sex. 

That was definitely something that he’d discovered was perhaps even better than with Yoo-jin, which he’d felt a little guilty about at first. Sure, he perhaps couldn’t go as often as he had when he was 21 but it was just...better.

Both of you were far more experienced and knew exactly what you liked and didn’t like in the bedroom, and you were both mature enough to be honest and open about it. He’d been mortified to find out that he hadn’t actually given Yoo-jin an orgasm for six whole months because she’d been too shy to tell him whereas you’d told him exactly what to do for the very first time you’d slept together.

He’d been a little shocked actually, but it had resulted in perhaps the best sex he’d had in a long time. Particularly for two people who had never had sex with each other. And yet it had; he’d never felt such an intense and emotional connection with someone before and it had even frightened him a little bit, made him feel disloyal because he couldn’t ever remember Yoo-jin like that.

It had taken a quiet discussion with Namjoon over his guilt to realise that the sex was probably better because you were the first person he’d slept with that he’d been friends with beforehand, who he’d fallen for long before. Yoo-jin had been a one night stand that had turned into something more, but he’d known you for months.

Sex with you was some of the best he’d ever had, and it blew his mind even more because you hadn’t even had a huge amount of it in the past six months. The lack of time he had for meeting up with you meant that there just wasn’t time for it and so he’d had to fit it in where he could.

For the first time in well over ten years, he’d actually had freaking car sex. And it was not as pleasurable as he remembered. His cheeks flushed as he recalled that incident vividly. It was perhaps not his best moment sexually, but you’d both handled it so well.

it hadn’t even ended in an orgasm because you’d got cramp from bending over and he’d hit his head against you when he’d jerked forward in worry. It had ended up with you back in the passenger seat and giving him a blowjob while he’d felt guilty as hell over not being able to properly reciprocate.

But even that had proven how compatible you were with each other as only minutes later, with his cum still dripping down your face from where you’d overestimated your deep throating abilities and practically coughed it all back up, the two of you had been giggling like teenagers at the failed sex.

A snort leaves him as he remembers it and he shakes his head in response to the look of query you give him, tugging at your leg until you give in and move over to him. He smiles in victory as you curl into his side, your warmth pleasant against him while he wraps his arm around you comfortably, pressing his lips to your head and simply taking the smell of you in.

You smelt like the perfume he’d bought you for your birthday last month, a fruity candy scent because that’s what you loved above all else and he loved it. It made him want to eat you, and he felt a stirring in his groin as he considered doing just that.

“Are you sure they’re okay about tomorrow?” Your voice is soft and quiet but he can hear the insecurity behind it. He understands why. The two of you had made sure to have an in depth conversation about what would come about from you being introduced to his daughters.

You’d known that it would mean sometimes you would come to his place which would mean interacting with them on a personal level. Dates would sometimes end up being family events and they would come in tow. Quite simply, the longer you continue to date and the more the two of you settle into your relationship, the more integrated you would become into his own family.

He could hardly date you seriously and never include you with his own family. Particularly if he ever hoped to move you in one day. No, you would need to know what you were getting yourself into and needed to be accepting of that.

Just as he didn’t want to force something on his daughters, he didn’t want to force a family on you.

As much as he said to Soo-ah that you wouldn’t be replacing her mom, it would be impossible for you to not take on some mother aspects for them. Firstly, it just wouldn’t be fair to be in a long term relationship with him and never expect to do anything with his kids considering how young they were.

Secondly, you were a kind and nurturing person anyway. He had no doubt that whenever you eventually moved in, because he was pretty positive that would be happening in the future, you would want to actively try with the girls. How receptive they would be, he didn’t know.

But if you wanted to try with them then he certainly wasn’t going to stop you. If they didn’t want to reciprocate then they wouldn’t have to and he’d make sure that you knew that too.

“Well...I mean they’re only kids, so I can only really take them at what they say. The twins probably don’t understand properly but I don’t expect them to. They never got to be with Yoo-jin so, this is all new to them. For them, the only thing they’ll probably get upset is that daddy will have someone else that he’s going to pay attention to. Soo-ah though?” His tone turns a little unsure without him even meaning to and you wiggle against uncomfortably.

“She’s the one who’s going to be harder to get through to, isn’t she?” Hoseok hugs you tighter to him as the despondency in your voice and he wishes that he could take it away, but you’re right. Soo-ah is the mystery in the whole situation and she could make everything perfect or it could all fall apart.

“Yeah. She’s...she’s worried that I’m forgetting her mom or that you’ll try and replace her or something. A valid concern for her to have, but I think it’s going to take a while for her to come round to it. To everything really. To you being in our lives, to me loving someone else. It’s going to be hard on her and I wish I could make it better for her but...I can’t. I’ll just have to work with her and show her that being with you isn’t going to mean that Yoo-jin didn’t exist.” 

You push up from him at that, a hand resting on his thigh and he looks deep into your eyes for a moment. He sees love for him there but also concern for his daughters combined with uncertainty for yourself and he can’t stop himself as he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“I don’t want to take the place of their mom. Especially not for Soo-ah, I can’t even imagine what she went through and...that’s not what I want. I’ll try ready hard with them, I will. I swear. And I won’t get too offended or upset if they get angry at me. I know it’s a hard situation for them to get used to. It’s just been you four for a while now and I’m the interloper.” His heart warms at your words and he hugs you tighter to him, kissing your forehead hard before resting his nose against you.

“That’s why I love you. You know that? Because you care and you don’t push. I appreciate that so much. They’ll come around to it, even if they’re not happy at first. I don’t expect them to be happy, but I can’t be forced to be alone for the rest of my life just because they don’t like it. I...I feel a bit guilty saying this but...I deserve to be happy too.” A soft brush of your lips against his neck lets him know that you agree and his racing heart settles a little.

He’s nervous for tomorrow, yes, but he knows that he’s right. It’s been years of loneliness and now he’s finally ready to accept someone else. And he knows that his daughters would come to like you just as much as he does. Hoseok doesn’t expect them to love you, and he never would, but he hopes that they’ll at least come to like you.

“Anyway, let’s not focus on that right now. We’ve got that bridge to cross tomorrow. Tonight is just me and you, the last night of it being just us,” His brows wiggle suggestively and you roll your eyes in response, lips quirked up in amusement. “How about we take this to the bedroom?”

An unladylike snort leaves you as you push up from him, grabbing the pizza box and heading over to the kitchen to throw it away as he turns off the television.

“Really? You want sex already?” The exasperation in your voice causes to throw a look of outrage at the kitchen door but you’re not there to experience it so he just grins instead, grabbing both your phones and heading over to your bedroom.

“I just meant going to sleep you horndog! God, I thought men were supposed to be the ones who always thought about sex?” He calls out, biting his lip in amusement as he plugs your phone into the charger by your bed and places it on the bedside table.

The screen lights up momentarily and he grins as the lockscreen image pops up; it’s of him kissing your cheek in a park. It had been one sunny lunch and the cherry blossoms had been out in force, providing the perfect backdrop for a perfect picture.

He jumped in surprise, letting out a yelp and dropping his own phone onto the table with a clatter as two hands grip his ass firmly before they slide round to his stomach, wrapping him in a tight hug while you giggle and press kisses to his back.

“How can I not think about sex when my boyfriend is this hot?” The pink painting his cheeks is slightly embarrassing but he can’t stop the primal flush of pride at your compliment and he wants to roll his eyes at himself. 

Turning around, he looks down at your pretty face and bends down to press his nose against yours in a butterfly soft kiss before catching your lips with his for a proper kiss. His arms move to wrap around you in turn, holding you tightly to him and for a few minutes, he just focuses all his efforts into exploring your mouth in a slow yet sensual kiss.

By the time he’s finished, you’re slightly breathless and he admires the dazed look in your eyes, lips swollen and the stirring in his groin he’d felt earlier becomes even more insistent. Perhaps too insistent given the way you look down at his crotch with a raised brow before glancing back up, biting your lip.

“You might want to go to bed but I want you, so how about it daddy?” He pauses, looking at you with a carefully blank face.

“As long as you never call me that ever again then sure. I think I can forego sleep for a little while longer,’ he grins broadly before stepping back. “So undress for me princess. Let me see how hot my girlfriend is.”

“Yes sir.”

“Oh...now that...I like.”

-

Waking up the next morning was surprisingly nice and he simply laid there for a few minutes in the quiet, taking in the way your scent saturated everything and how warm the bed felt. When he finally did open his eyes, he was met with the sight of a clock that read 8am.

Surprise flooded him for a second before he stretched out, groaning softly before smiling and simply laying there. He hadn’t woken up as late as 8am in years and it felt freaking glorious. Half of him wanted to roll over and simply go back to sleep, but he knew that his body wouldn’t let him now that he’d opened his eyes.

You on the other hand, were curled up in a ball next to him beneath the covers, your back facing him. A few ideas ran through his mind, wondering whether he should just get up and go shower or if he should spend some more time with you.

Time with you won out, as he knew it would have. He wasn’t going to turn down a morning with you without kids, no way in hell. And so without another thought, he rolled onto his side and curled up behind you, humming contentedly as the warmth of your body seeped into his own.

“Princess...priiincess,” He cooed into your ear, grinning as you shuffled slightly in his arms and let out a quiet croak in response. “Are you awake?”

There was no doubt about it, he was being a little shit right now and doing the exact thing that he whined at his own kids for doing on the weekend. But he didn’t care, because he found your response far too cute.

“No.” The pout you must have your on your face is abundantly evident and he laughs, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck. He wouldn’t kiss you, because he’d discovered that you really hated kissing with morning breath. Not that he was a fan either, but sometimes he just...wanted to kiss you really bad. 

Though sometimes he had regretted it, but he just pushed those thoughts out of his mind. No, he wouldn’t kiss you today. At least...not until you’d both gotten up and brushed those pearly whites until the kiss would be minty fresh from both ends. 

Instead, he just squeezed your body tighter to him and let out a quiet sigh of satisfaction. It was easy to forget how nice it was to just lay and cuddle with someone he loved; the warmth of you, the smell of you, the touch of you. It all merged together until he felt himself start to drift off once more, eyes closed and breath levelling out until you suddenly turned in his arms and he jerked awake once more.

An amused laugh left you as you looked up at him, eyes bleary with sleep while pillow lines creased your sleep swollen cheeks and his eyes narrowed playfully. “I thought you were sleeping.” He mumbled, burying his face into the slope of your neck while his hand moved to lay flat on your stomach, fingers stroking absentmindedly.

“Hard to sleep when I’ve got your hard on pressed against me.” Hoseok grunted at that, his fingers darting up to pinch at the nipple that made itself present through the thin material. A yelp left you before you laughed again, taking his hand and trapping it between your chin and shoulder.

“Don’t get too flattered. If I had a dollar for every time I woke up with an erection then I’d probably be just as poor because I’d have spent it all by now. But you get the point.” Your lower lip vanishes beneath your teeth as you hum, brow furrowing slightly.

“Are you saying that you don’t find my sleep face and morning breath attractive?” A snort leaves him as he presses his nose against your cheek, kissing the softness there slowly.

“I find you more than attractive missy, and you know that. I believe this is the first time we haven’t fucked after waking up together.” Pouting, you turn your head until you’re looking directly at him and he ducks his face slightly so that he’s not breathing directly on you. He did that once. 

Once.

“Don’t give me that face. The only reason I’m not balls deep in you right now is firstly, because I need to go shower and then head home to clean up and secondly...I don’t have another condom.” Your face contorts on itself before sighing, your hand moving to brush over his boxer briefs and he lets out a hiss of breath as he feels you move against his cock.

“I could suck you off.” It’s almost innocent and he glares at you, lips pursing before he pulls away, rolling to the side and departing the bed before you can entice him any further.

“That’s not...I mean...minx.” You just grin at him before getting up yourself, letting him see the way your shirt has twisted on you in your sleep, clinging tightly to your curves. His hands clench automatically as he huffs out a breath, staring at the sight of your boy shorts that cup your ass so beautifully.

He was trying to be good here and you were ruining all his intentions.

“So...you don’t want a blowjob in the shower then?” There’s not even a chance for him to respond as you tug off your shirt, revealing the delectable sight of your breasts as they’re revealed to the morning air. Without even looking at him, you head towards the bathroom door.

Indecision fills him as he stares at the door, the straining erection in his underwear telling him to go but the logical part of his mind reminding him that he is, in fact, an adult man and not a horny teenager. But then your panties come flying through the door, landing in a heap and he lets out a deep groan before striding over.

He may be an adult, but he’s an adult who damn well likes your mouth on his cock and he is not turning that down. Not today, when later on will be stressful. Right now, it’s time to just enjoy you while he has you entirely to himself.

Inside the bathroom, he finds you merely brushing your teeth at the counter but your eyes move to land firmly on his and he desperately wishes he didn’t find it so weirdly attractive to watch the way your arm moves. But then he realises it’s what you want as your free hand slowly trails down your body, reaching the hair at the apex of your thighs.

Swallowing thickly, he lets out a slow breath before reaching around you for the toothbrush you’d given him to use here and carefully begins to brush his own teeth, trying his hardest not to look. This was not supposed to be a sexy activity, and yet here he was, eyes glued to your hand while his own hand tried to brush his teeth.

A quiet moan slips from your mouth, eyes fluttering shut and your arm shudders slightly, pausing in your movements as the fingers between your thighs work at yourself and he hisses, brushing far quicker in his haste to be done. He doesn’t want you to get all the fun, no way in hell. 

Leaning over, he spits out into the sink and is suddenly reminded of all the times you’ve chosen to spit instead of swallow when you’d blown him and he has to repress the urge to giggle. Instead, he washes his mouth and realises you’re doing the same next to him, head so close to his own that he has an almost preternatural awareness of you.

Glancing up into the mirror, his breath escapes in a rush as he sees you bending over the counter, one elbow resting while your other hand moves in slow circles between your legs, now spread wider. Oh, this is just not fair, he thinks to himself before his eyes narrow.

“I thought I was getting a blowjob?” He asks, moving upright and looking down at you with an imperious brow raised.

You watch him with innocent eyes in the mirror, your own brows raising to complete the facade while you bite at your lower lip. “Did I say that? I thought you didn’t want anything.” The last syllable ends on a soft moan and his hands finds your hips without him even meaning to as your eyelids flutter shut, mouth opening in a perfect circle as soft moan leaves you.

It’s like a lightning bolt to his groin, cock aching at the sound and he realises he can hear wetness as your fingertips slide between your folds. His own fingers itch with the need to take over, to feel that slickness and rub till you’re breaking apart against him.

“Well...it’d take a strong man to turn this down princess,” Moving behind you, he presses his front to your back firmly and mouths a hot kiss to your shoulder, tongue working slowly before he looks back up into the mirror and smirks at how you watch him with those needy eyes. “I’m not that strong.”

Without another word, his arm comes around to your front and he pushes your hand out of the way, his own delving into the gap and his fingers finally rub against your clit. You’re already slippery with your own desire, worked up from your own touch while you’d been safe in the knowledge that he was carefully watching.

Your head falls back against his shoulder, even at this awkward angle with you bent over the counter but he just focuses on kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin of your shoulder and neck. He makes sure not to leave any marks on your neck but he’s more than giving with his attention, his free hand moving around to massage your breasts firmly, playing with your nipple till you push back against him.

“Condom…” The word is panted out from you, your hips gyrating against the firm touch of his fingers on your engorged nerves and he doesn’t even notice it at first. Not until you’re shifting position, trying to reach over to the drawer by your side. He pauses in his movements, fingers half inside you at this point and watches as you tug open a drawer and pull out a foil wrapper.

Looking back in the mirror at you, his brows raised in a combination of surprise, amusement and mild rebuke. “Wow...you really are a little minx, huh? Keeping condoms in the bathroom and not telling me. I’d say naughty girl but right now, I approve.”

A low laugh leaves you as you tear the foil with your teeth, pulling the condom out and handing it back to him. He kicks off his underwear quickly before giving himself a few firm strokes, breath coming a little quicker from the friction but he’s more than excited to be inside you already. It’s not even been 12 hours since the last time he’d fucked you.

Once on, he reaches between your legs once more and plunged two fingers inside of you, checking that you’re more than wet enough for him without needing to get any lubrication. Sometimes you needed it, sometimes you didn’t. Today appeared to be a didn’t, and he wondered if you had some kink of mirror sex kink because you were already near enough dripping for him.

Grinning, he lined up his cock and rubbed the tip against you, rocking his hips forwards and back in slow motions to let your juices coat his cock. The sensation has you gasping softly, causing your own hips to push back as you try and shift enough to find the right angle to get him to slip inside.

He lets you take control for a moment, watching intently as your pussy finds his tip, the engorged head slipping into your sopping entrance. Holding your ass with his hands, he slows your movements down and slowly penetrates you until he’s balls deep inside, breath leaving him in a slow and controlled exhale as you squeeze tightly around him.

His eyes roll slightly at the sensation and he can’t help but grip your ass harder, tutting slightly. As said, you’d already had sex in the last twelve hours and it had been two rounds worth. He’d been proud of himself for producing two performances like that in such quick succession but he had no doubt that you were feeling at least a little bit sore right now so he tried to go slow for you.

Turns out you didn’t want slow and a soft, keening whine leaves your mouth as you try to push back against him harder. Glancing into the mirror, he has to bite his lower lip to stay quiet as he watches the pleasure filled expression face back at him, your eyes screwed tightly shut while your mouth falls open.

The thrusts he makes into you might be slow, but they’re also deep and each movement has you jerking forwards slightly. It causes your breasts to rock with each slap of his hips against your ass and he watches, entirely mesmerised by the movement and wanting to see how you react when he’s fucking you harder.

“Hobi.” You mewl, the sound strained and yet oddly high pitched as one hand moves back to grasp at his hip, trying to pull him into moving faster in combination with your squirming ass and he brings down the flat of his hand on your rounded cheeks chidingly. The sound is loud in the quiet of the room but your inner muscles immediately grip in tighter, the sensation causing him to choke for a moment and his brows rise in amusement.

Well, someone liked being spanked. He was definitely going to remember that for future events.

Any hope he had of being gentle with you to avoid soreness is gone though and it’s clear to him that you’re wanting it harder and faster than he’s going. So he decides to give you it, his hips moving forward faster until the bathroom is filled with the lewd sounds of skin against skin, slick wetness, breathy pants and lust filled groans and moans.

“Come on princess,” He grunts deeply, kissing your shoulder before his arms slide around your waist. One pushes against the counter, giving him extra balance as he thrusts while the other dips back between your legs, the slippery mess there making your soft warmth even more delightful.

The combined touch of his fingers and cock increases your moans, though they’re more like vocal hitches of breath that whine with stroke inside you. Your own hand moves to press down on his own, rubbing furious, tight circles into your clit while he continues to slam into you. The wetness has to be leaking down your thighs now, coating your inner legs and the thought turns him on almost as much as the completely fucked out visage he gets to watch in the mirror.

Breath coming quickly, he pants into your ear before moving his lips down to kiss at your neck frantically as the pleasure in his groin tightens furiously, the need to move faster and harder so strong as he feels the impending release of his orgasm. He desperately wants you to come first, but sometimes that just doesn’t happen and he can’t help it as your pussy flutters around him once more, tightening viciously and he succumbs to the waves of pleasure that flood through his body.

A long and drawn out moan leaves his mouth, high and filled with pure satisfaction and carnal pleasure as he moves inside you slowly, pulling every bit of pleasure he can out from your warm depths before it feels too much for him. Hissing lightly at the overstimulation, he refuses to move as his fingers move back to your clit, rubbing at you in quick, fast movements that have you shivering in his arms as needy moans leave you.

Tiny movements of your hips as they gyrate and the clenching of your pussy has him whining quietly but he doesn’t move, determined to get you off as well. Sometimes it didn’t happen and you’d push his hand away, but this time you keep him firmly against him until your body seizes tightly around him, muscles stiffening before convulsions take over.

His cock slips from you in the midst of your orgasm but you don’t notice, not when his fingers keep moving and prolonging the pleasure until your hips shift away from his hand, the subtle movement telling him to let go. Heavy panting is all that remains in the room and he strips the condom quickly, throwing it away before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you to him tightly once more.

“Fuck...I was not intending that. I was trying to be good.” He mumbles against your shoulder, not noticing the way you give him a tired smile of affection in the mirror as your hand comes up to run through his messy hair. 

“I didn’t want you to be good. I wanted you to fuck me good and hard, and you did. So thank you.” You murmur, turning around and pressing a kiss to his lips firmly. Neither of you move for a few moments, simply enjoying the post-coital bliss of an orgasm induced intimacy before Hoseok finally pulls away with a contented noise.

“Okay princess, now that we’ve got even more dirty...let’s finally take that shower.”

-

Hoseok finally manages to leave your house an hour and a half later, meaning that he’s running behind on his own internal schedule and he feels the slight anxiety that he always does when he’s not being on time. With three kids, he’s had to learn to strictly regiment his time if he ever wants to get anything accomplished.

Whether they obey or not is a different story entirely.

After getting out of the shower and pulling on some clothes, he’d then been forced to sit down on your couch while you cooked him a quick breakfast. The very idea of having food cooked for him by someone who wasn’t his mom was bizarre after so many years, but he’d enjoyed eating the over cooked toast and bacon more than he’d like to admit. 

He’d originally intended to run out to the grocery store and grab the food for dinner before heading back home and cleaning everything up. Only you’d looked far too anxious about tonight when he’d been on his way out, shooting multiple questions at him that gave away your nerves and he’d felt sympathy swell.

It was easy for him to focus on his girls and worry about their reaction, but he had to try and remember that this meeting involved you as well. And you were at a severe disadvantage in that you are the odd one out, the one intruding into his family unit.

So he’d found himself asking if you wanted to help him before he’d even realised. Part of him felt bad about it as it meant that the girl would be coming home to someone they don’t know, but he figured that they already knew they were meeting you anyway. It would at least allow you to calm yourself down and get a little more comfortable in his home before you finally meet his daughters.

Which was why he was currently walking down the aisle of the grocery store, hand tightly entwined with yours as he pondered what to make for dinner. He was actually glad that you were here for that and he posed the question to you, causing you to hum lightly as you lean into him.

“What do the girls like?” The question throws him a little and he frowns, looking at the rows of microwaveable rice before glancing back at you.

“Well...what do you want to eat though? You’re the reason we’re having a special dinner.” He can hear the soft sigh you give, your head resting against his shoulder and his chest warms at the small gesture of affection. It might not seem much to others but to someone as romantically starved as him, it was unbelievably fulfilling.

Pulling away from him, you move back until you’re gently tugging at him to move and he follows you quietly. “No, we’re going to cook what your daughters love to eat because this is going to be an awkward time for them and their favourite home cooked meal will be one less thing they have to worry about. So what do they like to eat?”

His heart flips at the concern and warmth in your voice, causing him to smile as he glances down, tugging you closer and kissing your forehead quickly. “We’ll make lasagne, they all like that and it’ll give us plenty of food. You like that right? And I know you like garlic bread.”

You grin impishly at that, nodding enthusiastically and he chuckles. “I’ll go get the stuff for the bread, you get the stuff for the lasagne yeah? Should I…” A pause causes him to look at you with a raised brow, watching the indecision flutter across your face before carrying on. “Should I get them anything? Like...a present or...chocolate or something?”

“No, don’t get them anything. I mean maybe you should but...I don’t personally like the idea. I don’t want them to feel like you’re trying to buy their affection and love. Just...be yourself.” There’s a brief hesitation before you nod almost shyly, arm moving to cover your stomach in a protective gesture before you head off in search of the ingredients.

Time seems to move faster after that and before he realises it, it’s already time for him to go collect the girls from his parents. The house had been fully tidied and cleaned, though he’d wondered why on earth he was doing that when you were literally cleaning it with him but something he’d discovered today was that apparently you had a strange kink for cleaning.

Not even sexual, you just liked to clean. He’d laughed when he’d discovered that, your excitement at the Dyson vacuum cleaner he’d produced spurring on the new revelation and he’d proclaimed that he had a house that would bring you eternal joy.

Three children meant there was no such thing as a clean house, just organised chaos. And sometimes not even organised, just plain chaos. 

But true to your word, you hadn’t uttered a single complaint and had instead sung loudly to the music he’d played on the speakers that were connected to his phone. He’d had a whole moment of affectionate bemusement as he’d watched you wiggle around the living room, singing while you even dusted for him.

There had been a few moments of quietness from you when you’d noted the pictures of Yoo-jin on the mantle of the fireplace. He kept a few dotted around the house for the girls and he’d worried for a moment that you’d feel jealous or annoyed.

Instead, you’d simply picked up the silver framed wedding photograph, taking note of the younger Hoseok in a suit and the pretty girl in a beautiful wedding dress next to him, both smiling so brightly with a small Soo-ah in his arms. It was his favourite picture of Yoo-jin and he still felt a bubble of love for her when he looked at it.

Which is why he hoped you wouldn’t be mean. And you hadn’t been, instead looking at him with a small smile and carefully placing the frame onto the floor before moving the others as well. “She was beautiful.”

And then you’d knelt down on the floor and carefully polished the frames until they were spotless, giving them a level of care and attention that had him having to leave the room so that you couldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

Once he’d recovered himself, he’d gone back in and sorted out storing the many toys away while telling you stories behind some of the pictures and preening ever so slightly over how you cooed over the photos of his daughters. Damn right they were cute.

Now though, he was shrugging on a jacket and picking up his car keys to go get them and bring them home. It’s only when he looks back round that he sees the way your shoulders are curled inwards, making yourself small while your hands cross over your chest. 

Moving back over, he hugs you tightly to him before kissing your forehead as your chin rests on his chest, nerves evident in every part of you. “Hey, come on. It’ll be okay. Remember, if they don’t respond well tonight then it’s just the first time. Don’t take it to heart.”

“I know. It’s just...I don’t really know what to do, you know? Never met my boyfriend’s kids before.” A quiet laugh leaves him before he dips down, pressing his lips to your own in a quick kiss.

“I love you,” He turns around and heads to the door, knowing that you’re probably going to end up cleaning something else. Part of him wonders if he should have you leave and come back in half an hour but that seems stupid. So he shakes his head and opens the door, looking back at you and smiling. “Please, try and relax a little.”

“Okay. Love you.”

-

Pulling into the driveway, Hoseok takes a deep breath to fortify his nerves before glancing into the mirror to check on the twins in the backseat. His parents had, as expected, spoilt all three and the twin’s were coming home with Funko figures each to put on their shelves while Soo-ah had a ridiculously thick book of horse breeds.

One day, he worried that he might be expected to buy her a horse. He didn’t like horses, and he certainly didn’t want to own one. You were currently convincing him to let her have horse riding lessons and he was considering it as her Christmas present, but he still worried immensely that she would get hurt.

Still, she was slowly proving that it wasn’t a phase and he knew that he was going to have to relent sooner rather than later. He didn’t want to be the dad who stifled her passions and dreams, even if it could potentially cause interest.

“Okay everyone, we’re back. Now...as I said before, Y/N is already here. She helped me to make dinner and clean the house for you guys! So it’s all clean. Ideally, I’d like you to keep it clean but I know you rascals,” He eyes the twins at that and they both give him identical toothy grins. “Are probably going to mess it all up.”

“Grandma was excited.” Ji-eun blurts out, her expression mischievous as if she was fully aware that she was tattling on his own mother. He can’t help the smile that spreads as he imagines his mom gushing to them. She’d spent years now trying to get him to finally move on, so needless to say, she’d been beyond ecstatic when he’d told her last week that he was going to introduce the girls to you.

“Grandma needs to learn to keep her nose out,” He mused quietly before laughing. “Anyway, I’m just going to ask one last time...please be good for me? Be on your best behaviour and be polite. You don’t have to like her, but I did not raise rude girls, right?” 

The stern look he gives the twins causes them to give him carefully blank faces as they nod slowly. He eyes them for a moment longer, knowing that trouble was never far with them, before turning to Soo-ah. She sits next to him in the passenger seat quietly, arms wrapped around the book and her hair in low pigtails.

“Soo-ah?” She tenses slightly when he says her name before looking at him, her brown eyes filled with so many emotions he didn’t understand. But despite all that, she nods slowly while her lips purse out.

Before he can say anything else, the twins are rushing out of the car and bolting over towards the door. He swore under his breath before getting out of the car himself, watching with resignation as they rush inside.

Looking back at Soo-ah, he sees her quietly getting out and closing the door in a much more gentler fashion than her excitable sisters. Hoseok can’t help but walk over to her, crouching down and looking up at her as he takes one of her hands gently between his own. The fact he has to look up at her now while crouching makes him sad, yet he’s so proud of her too.

“Soo-soo...if you don’t want to do this then you can tell me. You don’t have to meet her. I can ask her to go home, or I can take you back to your grandparents if you want. I’m not going to force you to do something that you don’t want to do, okay?” The only sounds for a few moments are the chirping of the birds in the trees that line the street and a car engine in the distance.

“It’s okay dad. She can stay. I’ll meet her.” His brow creases and he reaches up to run his hand down her hair slowly.

“Are you sure?” One more time, just to make doubly sure because he knows his daughter well. And he knows that she’s not entirely happy, but what can he do when she’s verbally telling him it’s okay? He’s giving plenty of chances for her to back out and he wouldn’t be mad at her. Sad, yes, but not angry. 

“Yes daddy.” And with that, she heads into the house as well. He’s left to stand there, face grimaced as he wonders if he should just call it all off. But then he suddenly realises that you’re on your own in there, with his daughters.

“Shit.” He curses and runs inside, faltering in the doorway that leads into the living room. The twins are sat on the couch while Soo-ah is in the arm chair, all three quiet and looking at you like you’re something fascinating. They’re pretty relaxed whereas you’re stiff as a board in the doorway to the kitchen, a brittle smile on your face that turns into one of relief when you see him.

“Hey err...we’re back? Obviously.  Erm, okay well. Girls, this is Y/N, my...girlfriend,” He doesn’t really know if he’s meant to be introducing you as that or just his friend, but they’d already figured it out the other night anyway. “Y/N, this is my eldest daughter, Soo-ah. And this is Ji-soo with her hair down and Ji-eun with her hair in a ponytail.”

“Hello Y/N.” The twins said at the same time, their voices light and whimsical and he almost hisses at how creepy they sound. They’re doing it purposefully, he can see the shine in their eyes because they know people find it weird when they do that. Soo-ah simply gives a polite hello of her own, dipping her head ever so slightly in welcome.

“Hi...erm,” He can tell that you’re struggling to say something and he so desperately wants to go over and place a reassuring arm around you. But he can’t, because he feels he should be with the girls instead. “It’s nice to meet you all. Your dad has told me so much about you.”

The sudden ringing of an alarm in the kitchen interrupts whatever else you were about to say and Hoseok jerks, eyes glancing behind you to the room. “Okay, girls...clean up and then come to the table. Be quick, we’re having lasagne.”

That gets a bright smile from all three as they jump up and rush towards the bathroom situated downstairs, eager to wash their hands before going into the dining room. You’d set the table earlier for him once he’d shown you where everything was and even now, you were helping him by bringing some of the food into the room.

His daughters were smiling in delight as he served the lasagne out to them, his own stomach rumbling at the smell and he realised belatedly that neither you nor him had eaten since breakfast. The plate you place down with garlic bread is soon emptied, with Hoseok making sure to grab two pieces and place one on your own plate.

It’s odd, having five people at the table instead of three, he thinks to himself as he sits down after handing you the plate with your own lasagne. All of them are used to it being just the four of them, with Soo-ah normally sitting next to Hoseok while the twins sit opposite. But today, Hoseok is sat at the end of the table with Soo-ah next to him on the right while you’re next to him on the left. 

It unnerves him a little, taking this weird head of the table position but he doesn’t mention it as he takes a mouthful of lasagne. A quiet hum of appreciation comes from you and he glances over, chewing and smiling at the way your eyes close in delight.

“Daddy! Ji-soo has more than me!” Ji-eun complains before shrieking as her sister pinches her arm. Already, Hoseok has visions of a full fight blowing up between the two because if they’re not being sweet with each other then they’re having astonishing fights and Ji-eun is already turning around to retaliate.

“Hey! What did I say earlier? Best behaviour. Do not fight.” Hoseok hisses at them, eyes narrowing as he gestures a finger at them. Both girls slump down in their chairs, sauce covered lips pursing as they glare at each other. 

And then, as always with their contradictory nature, Ji-soo carefully cuts a piece of lasagne and places it on her sister’s plate without a word. Ji-eun smiles happily and eats it, doing a little butt wiggle dance in her seat in victory and Hoseok has to fight the urge to laugh at them.

Glancing at you, he notes your widened eyes at his sudden rebuke and his cheeks heat up. “Sorry. You get used to it. They’re either working together to cause trouble or they’re fighting with each other.”

You nod slowly at his explanation before a wry smile spreads, eyes flicking back over to the girls who are now sat being good as gold. “It’s okay. I had a friend in high school who was a twin. They had the worst fights but you did not want to come between them. It must be nice to have someone who will always be there for you.”

“You know someone with a twin too?!” Ji-soo exclaims loudly, her pretty eyes going wide with astonishment and Hoseok doesn’t even bother to stop his laugh this time. They’d never met any other twins before and they knew from people’s reactions that they were pretty special.

“I did! I’m not friends with them anymore but she had a twin brother, not a sister like you two. They had a special language that they would talk in and only they understood it.” At that, Ji-eun is the one to squeal in excitement as she claps her hands.

“We do! Daddy hates it when we do.” He grumbles good naturedly at that, pointing at them with his fork before taking another bite of lasagne with a grin. 

“Yeah, it was very strange listening to them. But that’s special though, it means that only you two will ever be able to understand it so it’s something that only you share.” They nod slowly, smiling brightly at your encouragement and his heart warms at how they seem to be pretty accepting of you so far.

His eyes flicker to Soo-ah who’s eating methodically, keeping quiet. She’s always been a quiet girl, but he feels like the silence is more oppressive this time and he chews slowly, wondering how to get her involved too.

You’re talking to the twins now about your favourite Marvel movie, because he’d told you all about their love of the superhero genre and it was a pretty easy way to win favour with them. It seemed to be working too, as Ji-soo was sidling up to you as close as she could get in her chair, her eyes stern with concentration as she discusses in her five-year-old language why she thinks that Black Panther is the best movie.

Which is then countered by Ji-eun’s outraged shout as she disagrees vehemently, proclaiming that the best film is obviously Captain Marvel because she’s a girl and she’s cool and powerful. It leaves him to smile as he rolls his eyes, you throwing your own hat into the ring with the suggestion that your own favourite film is the first Avengers.

He contemplates if he should have warned you about the fact that they’ll never stop talking now that you’ve shown an interest in their favourite subject ever. At least he’d never really mentioned their second passion lately which was Pokemon. 

Admittedly, he was on board with both of these passions but he’d spent so long now discussing them with two overly eager daughters that the very subjects inspired more of a sigh than excitement. Though he would still be taking them to see every film that came out.

“Soo-ah, did you know that Y/N goes horse riding? She even used to do show jumping in high school.” He gestures towards you with an overly bright smile, hoping that discussing his eldest’s favourite passion would encourage her to engage with you in the same way.

All he gets is a sullen look and a shrug before she puts another forkful in her mouth. Despair fills him momentarily but he’s surprised when you take the initiative and take up the conversation he’d suggested. He hadn’t even realised you were listening to him.

“I did! I used to go to competitions on the weekends with my horse, Artemis. She was a really good jumper but I wasn’t very good with her unfortunately. We never really won anything but it was just for fun. Now I just ride whenever I get time. Artemis is pretty old now so we just go trail riding.” Hoseok smiles as your eyes light up as you discuss your horse.

He knew that you were expecting to lose her any time now and it would probably hugely devastate you. After all, you’d had her since you were only 14 and she was still here, 17 years later.

“Cool.” Is the only response he gets from his daughter and he has to bite his tongue in frustration. He’d known that she was going to be the hard one to crack, but he didn’t think she was going to be this cold about it all.

“I think you’d like Artemis, Soo-soo. She’s a...Dutch Warmblood?” He looks at you in question, relieved when you nod in confirmation before he’s smiling back at his daughter. “You told me about those, right? They’re supposed to be really good at that kind of stuff? Maybe, if you want, Y/N will let you ride her.” 

“Of course, she’s really sweet and she’d be good for someone who’s never ridden. She’s old now but as long as you’re not mean with her then she’d be happy to take you round a ring. I think that you’d find her very pretty. She used to be dapple grey but is now just pretty much white.” You say with a smile, turning your head as Ji-soo asks if she can ride too.

“I don’t care.” Soo-ah says suddenly, her voice firm and raised and Hoseok looks at her sharply. Her cheeks are flushed while her brows dip inwards, annoyance and anger written all over her face. “I don’t care about your stupid horse or your stupid riding. I don’t care!”

The silence at the table is awkward after that and Hoseok feels numb, unsure what he’s supposed to do to resolve this situation. So he carefully places his cutlery down on his cleared plate and coughs quietly, giving Soo-ah a smile.

“Soo-ah, sweetheart. It’s okay-” He’s cut off immediately though, as if a switch has been flipped in her.

“Stop saying that! It’s not going to be okay! Because she’s going to come here and ruin everything! You’re going to forget about mom and we have to accept her! I won’t! I don’t care about you! I hate you!” She spat viciously at you but despite her anger, there’s tears brimming in her eyes and Hoseok has never felt more helpless. “I don’t want to talk to you! My dad might love you but I won’t! I never will! I love my mom!”

And with that, she slams her chair out of the way and storms out of the room. The thundering of her feet on the stairs as she runs to her room is soon followed by the resounding slam of her bedroom door and Hoseok feels stunned.

Blinking for a few moments, he watches as the twins faces crease slightly and he can see the tears in their own eyes as uncertainty and fear fills them. They glance between him, you and the doorway and he knows they don’t know what to do.

Are they supposed to be angry with you too, like their sister? He doesn’t want that, and so he clears his tight throat and smiles at them both, a little stiff but they still relax a little.

“It’s okay. Soo-ah’s...not happy about me bringing Y/N here. And she’s allowed to feel that, I’m not mad at her,” Okay, so he was a little bit as she’d just been incredibly rude and mean but it was already fading because most importantly, he understood her. “If you aren’t happy either, then you can tell me. It’s okay.”

Ji-soo looks at him, her beautiful brown eyes shining with unshed tears that she wipes away with a firm hand before shaking her head. “I’m okay daddy. Is Soo-ah okay?”

“She...will be. I’m sure. She’s just...it’s hard for her.” He smiles slightly, moving into Soo-ah’s chair to brush a few strands of hair out of Ji-eun’s face as she watches him quietly. Without even saying anything, she shuffles closer and leans against his side.

“Because she had mommy right?” The question is quiet and his throat feels so tight that it’s hard to swallow. They may only be five, but his twins are so smart and caring.

“Yeah, because she had mommy. So she remembers her, and she’s just worried. But we’re not gonna forget about mommy. She will always be important, okay?” He presses his lips to Ji-eun’s head, kissing her hair before looking at Ji-soo and giving her a reassuring smile.

They’re both quiet for a moment before nodding, and his heart swells with emotion as Jisoo turns to you and takes your hand in her own small ones. “It’s okay. We like you.”

He doesn’t get to see your reaction as he’s looking back at the doorway, wondering if he should go to her and check that she’s doing okay or just let her cool down. On the one hand, he doesn’t want her to feel suffocated when she’s obviously upset but at the same time, he doesn’t want her to feel like he’s abandoning her.

“Go.” You whisper and he looks back sharply, catching your eye as you gesture your head to the door. “It’s okay. Go.”

He stands up and goes to make a move before hesitating, uncertainty in him. You give him another nod and he lets out a deep sigh as his shoulders fall.

“I’ll be right back,” Hoseok smiles awkwardly, mouth stiff as he avoids your eyes. “Be good girls okay? I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He bends down and kisses the twin’s heads, taking in their expression to make sure they’re okay and feeling a bit of relief as their faces are cautiously neutral.

“It’s okay Hoseok, go check on her. I’ll be okay. I’m sure that we can find something fun to do, right?” You give him a tight smile, nerves evident as you look back at the twins with tentative hope. They’d reacted pretty well to Soo-ah’s outburst but he was worried that they might be mean while he was gone. But you give him a ‘go’ look and he knows that you can look after yourself.

So he heads out, feeling a little bad that he’s leaving the table but he has to at least check on Soo-ah. He isn’t sure if he’s supposed to be ignoring her or not but that feels wrong in his gut. She’s already worried about things he doesn’t even know yet, he’d rather not add to that by not coming to see her. At least she knows that her dad is always there for her, even when she doesn’t want him.

Her door is firmly closed and he stands outside it for a moment, hands clenching and unclenching as he’s unsure what to do now. This isn’t a conversation he really knows how to have, but he takes it as a positive really. It at least means that her life since Yoo-jin’s death hasn’t been too tumultuous. 

Taking a deep breath, he raps his knuckles against the door quietly and leans forward, his ear almost pressed to the door. “Soo-ah? It’s dad...are you okay?”

Silence answers him and his stomach sinks. He desperately wants to go in and comfort her, make her smile or just talk to her about her concerns but he’s been very clear over the years about their personal space. A closed door means that he can’t enter without their permission.

It might seem a little extreme given young they all are, but as the only male in the house he felt it was necessary to set those boundaries. When their door was closed, he wouldn’t go in unless invited. They’d grown to be pretty respectful of that for him as well and he was immensely relieved at the high levels of trust they all had with each other all ready.

They needed to know that they had a space that was private and safe, only for them. Which is why he lets out yet another deep sigh, his forehead resting against the white painted wood. It’s at moments like this that he wishes Yoo-jin were still here, so that she can help.

A flash of guilt runs through him then, both for wishing that she was alive when it meant he wouldn’t be with you but also because he is here with his daughters and Yoo-jin isn’t. Swallowing, he pushes that thought away before trying again.

“Soo-soo...I’m not...I’m not mad at you. I know you, and I know that you’re not mean or cruel. You’re just...I know this is confusing for you, and it’s hard. I’m not angry, and neither is Y/N. We understand, but I wish you’d talk to me. Please, let me know what’s upsetting you exactly.” Hoseok really isn’t sure what he’s meant to be saying to her but he’s speaking the truth; he isn’t mad with her.

He was at first, when the biting words spilled out of her. Firstly because he was simply shocked that his daughter could be that rude and mean but then secondly because he’d seen the hurt that had flashed over your face at her blunt rejection. But that had gone quickly when he’d seen the film of tears that had glazed over his little girl’s eyes and he’d known that she only lashing out because she was confused and scared.

“Soo-soo…” His voice trailed off, uncertainty over what to do when he heard noises from inside and his heart jumped a little. 

“Go away dad,” Soo-ah’s voice was strained and he could practically hear the tears, causing his face to grimace as his paternal instincts screamed at him to go to his hurting daughter. “Leave me alone.”

“Soo-ah...sweetheart…”

“Go away!” The words are shrill and he closes his eyes, feeling his whole body drain of energy as he recognises a losing battle. Well, no one can say he didn’t at least try. And at least he’s come to her, even if she doesn’t want him there. It’s not even one of those scenarios where she’s telling him to go away but he can tell she actually wants him there.

This is one of those times when she evidently wants to be left alone. So he will, for now at least.

“Okay Soo-ah, I’ll go. But I’m downstairs if you need me. Just come, or call, and I’ll come up okay? I’m not mad, you can talk to me,” He rests his hand on the door, trying to push through his love and affection to her. “I love you.”

With that, he lets his shoulders slump in defeat, waiting a few moments longer to see if she would come out before walking back down the hall. As much as he’d love to sit and wait her out, he has two other daughters that he needs to be worrying about. Two twin five-year-old’s, actually, who he’s left alone with you.

The realisation causes him to pause, eyes widening as he realises the carnage he could have potentially left you with. They’re handfuls with him, and he at least has the authority to ground them or tell them off. He can’t even imagine how easily they’re running you around.

Rushing down the stairs, he moves into the dining room only to pause in confusion, noting the suspiciously clean table. Heading through to the kitchen, he hears the dishwasher running and is even more confused.

The girl’s don’t know how to use the dishwasher, which must mean that you’d put them in there for him. Guilt rises immediately as he realises that you’ve cleaned up dinner for him, giving him one less thing to do. He appreciates it, but at the same time, he can’t help but think his mom would be scolding him right now.

You’re a guest in his house. Therefore, you should not be cleaning up after yourself. He should be doing that for you.

A sudden peal of bright, girlish laughter from the living room distracts him and he headed through the doorway in pursuit of it. The scene he comes across makes him pause in surprise, head tilting for a moment before a smile spreads and he rests his shoulder against the frame.

None of them have seen him yet, but the twins had you down on the floor with them as they showed you their expansive toy collection. Currently, they had the whole set of Avengers dolls along with others he’d bought for them from the Marvel collection. They were most definitely superhero girls, and currently they were fighting over who got to play as Captain Marvel.

Despite the fact they had three versions of her, but he’d discovered over the years that if one of them wanted something then the other wanted it twice as much. You were sat between them both, a bemused smile on your face as you held a Shuri and Black Panther doll in each hand, looking them over intently.

“Hey, hey! Come on now, let’s not fight, yeah? How about...neither of you be Captain Marvel because you’re both fighting? Why not be someone else? Shuri’s really cool,” You wiggle the doll with a grin, brows raising as you raise her arms up and pretend to fire lasers like in the film. “And then we’ve also got Nebula!”

“Nebula’s bad!” Ji-soo pouted, flopping down onto her butt and crossing her arms. Ji-eun pushed her immediately, laughing loudly as her sister fell over.

“Nebula’s cool! I wanna be her.” She grabbed the doll from you quickly and grinned up at you, pushing the sheet of black hair out of her eyes and behind her ear. He really did need to get their hair cut. It was a mess of tangles as usual right now, causing him to sigh as he knew how much of a struggle it was to get them to sit still and have their hair brushed.

“Nuh-uh, Shuri’s the best. She’s smart. I’m smarter than you.” Hoseok has to bite his lower lip to keep the chuckle inside that so desperately wants to escape as he watches your face fall slightly as they begin to fight once more. Welcome to his world, he thinks to himself, fully amused.

“Hey now, what have I told you both about fighting?” He says sternly, heading into the room and standing over them both with raised brows. There’s absolutely no need to look at you, because he’s fully aware that he’s using his dad voice right. 

And he was equally aware of your thoughts about his ‘dad’ voice, given all the times he’d been on the phone with you and suddenly had to to tell them off, or when he’d given them their goodnight call when they were with their grandparents. It had made him embarrassed at first, to realise his voice changed that much but you’d just been thoroughly amused.

Ji-soo immediately smiles at him, rushing up to her feet and running over to him with Shuri clasped tightly in her hand. He laughed loudly and came back over with her, small hand clasped tightly in his own as she directed him to sit on the floor next to you. Looking over at you with a small smile, he leans over and whispers to you.

“Thank you for cleaning up, but you really didn’t have to.”

“Hoseok, I was alone with twin five-year-old’s that I don’t know. When I’m anxious, I clean. Besides, it wasn’t any trouble and they wanted to help.” His brows rose at that and he looked back at the twin’s, taking in the sloping noses that resembled his own so strongly.

“Wow...so it’s just daddy that you won’t help, huh?” Pressing a hand to his chest, he pouts dramatically in a wounded tone that has Ji-eun giggling as she launches herself at him and settles in his lap. She’s getting too big to be doing this, but he won’t complain. One day, she won’t do it all.

“Daddy said we have to be good.” His heart warmed at that and an immense flush of pride swelled deep within, pressing a kiss to her head in pure paternal love. Glancing back at you, his cheeks flushed slightly at the look of adoration you give him and he just knows that you’re internally screaming at his interaction.

“So. If you’re Nebula, and Ji-soo is Shuri...then what can Y/N and I be? What about...if I’m Captain Marvel?” Ji-eun gasps loudly, shaking her head furiously and he splutters out a mouthful of hair as her ponytail smacks him firmly in the face.

“No daddy! You can’t. You have to be Iron Man!” He lets out another gasp, not actually bothered because Iron Man was cool but he’d actually wanted to be Captain Marvel. The film was great, sue him.

“Why? Because I’m a boy!” Yet he doesn’t push away the Iron Man doll, he calls them dolls purely because figurine is probably too hard for them to say to right now. The red and gold figurine is well used, scratches and dents marring the plastic surface from the intense playing they’d given him over the years.

Which included seeing if he could fly by throwing him out of the window onto the drive. That would have just gotten an eye roll from him normally, except they’d thrown him with some force and he’d landed firmly on Hoseok’s car. Who would have known that such a small toy would cause such a scratch on the windscreen?

“No daddy, because Y/N can be Pepper.” Ji-soo hands you a doll, smaller than the others and from the Iron Man 3 film but just as good. You take it from her with a gracious smile but he can see the confusion in your eyes as to why you have to be Pepper Potts and not one of the other superheroes. 

He doesn’t even think to question the fact that his kids that are doing that odd thing where they both seem to know exactly what the other is thinking. 

“Why Pepper? Why can’t she be Captain Marvel if I can’t?” Playfully, he pushes at the doll in Ji-eun’s hands and she giggles sweetly, looking up at him with those warm brown eyes that he loves so dearly.

“Because Iron Man loves Pepper, and you love Y/N.” Well...there’s not much room for argument there really. His cheeks once more flush red as he steadfastly avoids your eyes, oddly embarrassed at his daughters for outing him so thoroughly to you. You knew he loved you obviously, but the easy acceptance with which they react makes him feel a little odd. 

He doesn’t really know why, but he pushes it away and takes a deep breath. “Okay sweetpea. Now then...what bad guy are we fighting?” 

-

Soo-ah doesn’t come down for the rest of the night, nor does she let Hoseok into her room whenever he comes to check on her. It fills him with worry and he knows that he spends most of the night looking at the ceiling in anxiety.

He knows that, because he’s had more than a few comforting touches or smiles from you throughout the evening. An hour of playing with the twins had soon turned into them sitting with both Hoseok and you on the couch while episodes of Pokemon played on the flat screen television.

They seemed to have got along with you pretty well, and while they certainly weren’t being overly accommodating, they had been open enough that he got the impression that everything was going to be pretty okay with them. You had enough common interests with them to keep them entertained and he had the added benefit of them both being influenced by each other.

So if one really liked you, then the other would come around soon.

Ji-soo in particular seemed to be the one that he suspected would latch onto you with a few more visits. She was already more than enamoured in the stories you’d told her of the places that you’d been over the years and he wondered if you knew that you were probably going to end up with two little shadows soon enough.

After a few episodes of Pokemon, he’d put on Detective Pikachu at Ji-eun’s request because you hadn’t seen it before and they found that to be a complete travesty. It had been around 8pm then and he was being generous in letting them stay up later than he normally would in honour of your visit.

The first hour of the film had involved you having to spend more time listening to the running commentary from the twin’s as they explained important plot points, or what they was important, and point out every little thing. He was pretty sure that you hadn’t actually been able to properly watch any of it, and he made a mental note to watch it again with you at a later date.

And then everything had gone silent. He’d been so invested in his own thoughts and worry about Soo-ah that he hadn’t even noticed until the credits were rolling and no one had complained about it.

Turning his head, he couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face as he took in the sight next to him. Something he probably hadn’t expected to happen for months, but evidently all three were more tired than he’d anticipated.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he quietly unlocked it and turned on the camera before taking a picture. Staring at his screen, he grinned and set it to his home screen and placed his phone on the arm of the couch.

Ji-eun was curled up next to her sister, her head resting on Ji-soo’s shoulder until their hair blended together perfectly. Ji-soo on the other hand, was curled up into your side, your arm resting around them both while your head had fallen back against the couch, all three sleeping quietly and he felt a ridiculous amount of warmth and love for you all.

Carefully, he stood up and lifted Ji-eun up as slowly as he could so as not to wake her. She made a soft little noise of complaint in his arms but didn’t stir, not until he was shifting her bed covers until he could get her beneath them. Ideally, he’d like to get her into her pyjamas and have her brush her teeth, but he knew that if he tried to wake her then he’d just have grumpiness followed by an inability to sleep for another few hours.

So this time, he’d let them sleep in their clothes. 

He repeated the same actions with Ji-soo before giving them both a kiss on the head and whispering good night to them, turning off the lamp in their room and closing the door behind him while their night light glowed warmly. Heading back downstairs, he was left with the sight of you fast asleep on the couch.

Hoseok realised that he really, really liked the sight of you in his home like this. It was an odd feeling and he shook his head, moving into the kitchen and looking in the fridge. The dish of lasagne had been left on the side, some foil covering it as it had cooled and he looked inside casually.

There was one slice left, and without a word he put it into a small tupperware tub before heading back into the living room. Crouching down next to you, he placed his hand on your knee and pushed gently while calling out your name to wake you.

A quiet groan left you as you blinked blearily, eyes glazed until they focused on him. They were blank for a moment before filling with warmth as he smiled up at you. Glancing to the side, you frowned slightly at the missing girls and he laughed slightly, standing up and taking your hand to pull you up.

You wobbled slightly, leaning your weight against him as you got your balance but he took care of that by wrapping his arms around your shoulders and hugging you to him tightly. Neither said anything for a few minutes, just simply enjoying the feeling of being in each others arms and he wished that you didn’t have to go.

“Tonight was...good. I love the twins already, they’re...characters,” You chuckle against his chest and he can’t help but laugh in return as he nods. “But sweet. I really like them. And who knew you were this good at cooking hmm? Really got myself a man who can do it all huh?”

His cheeks burn bright red then as he makes a few protesting noises but you shush him loudly, leaning your chin on his chest to look up at him with an adoring expression. “I love you. Your family...is wonderful. I can feel the love between you all, it’s...really nice. Even with Soo-ah. I was a bit awkward but I can understand why she feels like that. I hope that she can come round to me.”

“I’m sure she will. One day. I’m not going to push her though. I feel bad about it because I knew she wasn’t okay with it, but she kept telling me she was. Maybe I moved too fast with it all.” You shake your head in response, tightening your arms around him and pressing a kiss to his chest.

“She’s a big girl, and if she tells you that she’s okay with something then you have to take her at face value sometimes. We all do things that we don’t really want to do. I get the feeling that she was trying for you and at least the ice is broken now. If she refuses to have anything to do with me then...that’s within her rights I guess. At least I’ve met her. Don’t beat yourself up about it, please.” He lets out a bone deep sigh before nodding slowly.

“Okay. Thank you. For today...everything. I...despite the thing with Soo-ah, I’m really happy. Like...really, I’m so glad that the twins seem to like you a lot.” Pulling away from him, you grin as you head out into the hallway and grab your jacket and bag.

“I’m glad that you’re happy. You deserve some happiness too Hoseok, remember that.” Nodding, he catches sight of one of the photographs of Yoo-jin on the wall and swallows thickly. You were right, he did deserve to be happy as well. Yoo-jin wouldn’t want him to wallow forever.

“Oh, you can take the last of the lasagne. This is not going to get eaten unless it’s by me having midnight munchies, and I do not need the extra weight.” Patting his stomach, he held out the container which you took with a bemused expression.

“You make out like you’re overweight Hoseok. You’re not. You’re cuddly sized.” The teasing in your voice causes him to roll his eyes but he just accepts you hug once more, the muffled thanks from you taken in gratitude as he takes a deep inhale of you.

“Be safe. Drive carefully. Text me when you get home.” You exaggeratedly agree to all of his demands before he lets you go, standing in the open door as you turn to him and pull him down into a goodbye kiss. It maybe goes on a little too long, but he doesn’t care.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Text me.” He says sternly, wagging a finger in your direction as you head over to your car in the darkness.

“Yes dad!”

“Don’t start that again!” But his protest is pointless as you just laugh and get into your car, reversing out of his drive and pulling away. He watches until he can’t see your tail lights anymore before heading back in and locking the door behind him.

His usual nightly routine is followed after that, but after he brushed his teeth and had done his business in the bathroom, he heads back over to Soo-ah’s door and knocks lightly. There’s no answer, and he wonders if she’s gone to sleep.

It makes his heart hurt to think that he can’t resolve this tonight with her, but he decides that he’s going to try and heal the rift between them tomorrow. He has to. He can’t go on with his little girl being mad at him.

After a few more minutes of silence, he sighed heavily and turns off the light before heading into his own bedroom. He spends half an hour beneath the covers of his bed, scrolling through social media and the news on his phone. You haven’t texted him yet, and worry fills him when suddenly, a light knock reverberates around the room.

Sitting up suddenly, he frowns and calls out for whoever it is to come in. The door opens slowly and he’s met with Soo-ah, dressed in her pyjamas and her hair still in the pigtails from earlier. She looks shy and hesitant, her gaze on the floor as one hand crosses over the stomach, holding the doorknob firmly.

“Can I come in daddy?” Immediately he’s nodding, opening his arms to her and she quietly closes the door behind her before rushing over, climbing onto the bed and burying herself in his arms. Even in the dim light of his bedside lamp, he’d recognised the swollen red eyes of someone who has spent a long time crying and he coos to her softly as she wraps her arms around him tightly.

Laying back on the bed, he pulls her with him and kisses her head. “Soo-soo, what’s wrong? I’m not mad at you.”

“Really? I was mean though.” Her voice is more childlike than he’s ever heard it and his heart tugs for her.

“Yeah, I’m not mad. I mean...I wish you hadn’t been mean, but I know that it’s a tough situation for you. Y/N wasn’t mad either. I just...I wish that you would have told me that you didn’t want to and I would have told her to go home. You’re important to me Soo-ah, your comfort is important.” He whispers to her.

“I was okay with it, I swear. I was worried, because I don’t want her to take mom’s place. But I know you like her. And you’ve always been alone,” She pauses, burying her face in his chest while her small arms squeeze him tighter. “I tried, but...I just...I was angry. She’s pretty and smart and funny, and you look at her all funny and it made me angry because she’s not mom.”

Hoseok blinks a few times, trying to stop himself from crying as she blurts out all of her inner feelings. He can’t even imagine how hard this has all been for her, but he lets her continue.

“I want mom, I want mom because she’s pretty and smart and funny too but mom is dead so I can’t have her. But if you’re single then she’s still here. Y/N means that she’s not here anymore, because Y/N will be here and you’ll take down her pictures and then she’ll be our mom but she’s not our mom!” Her words are fast and staccato, not really making too much sense but he doesn’t say anything about it. She’s only ten, and she’s just worried and upset about everything.

“And the twins were being so nice and they didn’t seem to care! I just wanted to scream at them! What about mom! Why does no one remember mom?!” A hiccup soon turns into a sob then and he hugs her tighter to him, letting her cry out her frazzled emotions.

“No one is going to forget mom, okay? I’m not going to forget her and she’s not going to disappear from this house. She will always be here, because you and your sisters are here. There were always be pictures of her in the house for you and I will always talk to you about her, whenever you want. I miss your mom so much, and I still love her. My relationship with Y/N doesn’t mean that she’s going to be forgotten, because she isn't. She is important to all of us and Y/N knows that. She doesn’t want to take your mom’s place, because that place is your mom’s, like I said before.” Pressing a kiss to her head again, he swallows and contemplates how to continue.

“I won’t ever expect you to call Y/N mom, and neither will she. I know you Soo-ah, and I know this is hard for you. Harder than for the twins, because you got five with your mom. But don’t be mad at them. They don’t know any different than it just being us four. They never got to have mom with them, so to them this is all new. I just...I love you all, and I don’t want to hurt any of you.” The final sentence is whispered and he feels more than a little despair.

Silence falls between them for a while before Soo-ah speaks once more.

“Tell me about mommy. Was she nice?” He’s nodding before he even realises it, flicking through his memories of the 7 years he had with Yoo-jin before finding a story for her. And so for the next hour, he proceeds to regale his daughter with all the stories of her mom that she’d never heard before. Stories he’d forgotten over time, but now remembered so vividly.

Glancing at the photograph on the other bedside table of her, his heart hurts as he remembers his beautiful wife. Kissing Soo-ah’s forehead, he smiles down at her.

“You look just like your mom. I know that she’d be so proud of you, you’re such a good girl. I know that she loves you a lot, just like I do. Don’t ever doubt that, okay? No matter what happens, I love you and your mom loves you too.” Soo-ah’s eyes fill with tears once more and she sniffles.

“I’m sorry daddy. I’m sorry I was mean to Y/N. I don’t hate her.” He laughs softly, pulling her back into a bear hug and squeezing her until she giggles, the sound making his heart soar.

“I know you don’t. I know you Soo-soo, and you’ve got too big of a heart to ever hate anyone. She knows that too.” Soo-ah quietens after that and he hums lightly, some song he heard a long time ago but can’t remember the name of. It seems to be working as Soo-ah’s eyes droop closed and she fights desperately to stay awake.

“Tell her I’m sorry. I’ll be nice next time. I swear,” She mutters, voice thick with sleep and he grins and acknowledges it. “Will she still let me ride her horse?”

He desperately wants to laugh at that and part of him wonders how much of this is because she wants to ride a horse. But he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, pun fully intended. He would give Artemis a big, juicy carrot whenever he saw her.

“She’d be happy to. If you want to, then I’ll let her teach you how to ride as well.” A tiny noise of happiness leaves his daughters mouth but she doesn’t say anything further, eyes closing finally before she’s fallen fast asleep.

He doesn’t expect this to be the last time she’ll have an issue with him dating you, in fact he fully expects more issues as she comes to terms with her feelings regarding the whole thing. But at least she came to him and told him what was upsetting her. And more than that, she had apologised for her behaviour. He wanted to apologise to her as well for putting her into the situation, but instead he was just going to have to make sure that he paid more attention next time.

For ten minutes, he simply enjoys the happiness he feels from the reconciliation with his daughter and the exultation he feels at the fact he’s not having to go to sleep with her angry at him. Finally though, he gets up and carefully takes her to her own bed, musing to himself how he ended up doing this with every daughter tonight when he hasn’t had to put Soo-ah to bed like this in years now.

When he gets back to his own, he sees the message icon on his phone blinking and eagerly jumps back into bed, turning the screen on to see that you had finally texted him.

[9:31pm] Y/N: I’m home :)

[9:31pm] Y/N: I stopped at the store and they had a 2 for 1 on your shampoo. 

[9:32pm] Y/N: You can keep one here and take the other home :)

[9:32pm] Y/N: Also bought a candy bar. I’m eating it now. Mmmm

He grins at your texts and shakes his head before his fingers are flying across the screen, typing out his own response.

[9:35pm] Hoseok: Mean, you know I can’t eat candy

[9:36pm] Y/N: We established that was a lie yesterday Mr Jung

[9:36pm] Hoseok: :(

[9:36pm] Y/N: I’d share my candy with you :)

[9:37pm] Hoseok: Ha. Thanks. For the shampoo too <3

[9:37pm] Hoseok: I just put Soo-ah to bed. She came to me. Told me why she was mad. She says sorry

[9:38pm] Y/N: She doesn’t need to apologise! She’s allowed to be mad. Is she okay?

[9:38pm] Hoseok: Yeah, it was exactly what I thought. Worried about her mom. I just have to make sure she knows I won’t forget her

[9:39pm] Y/N: You won’t. I don’t want to take her place. Even though I kind of am but you get what I mean

[9:40pm] Hoseok: I do. And I love you for it

[9:40pm] Y/N: I love you too

[9:41pm] Hoseok: She also wants to know if you’ll still let her ride Artemis

[9:42pm] Y/N: Lol, of course! 

[9:42pm] Hoseok: Kinda said you’d teach her how to ride too

[9:43pm] Y/N: Haha, again, of course. I’d be happy to for you :) and the twins if they want

[9:43pm] Hoseok: Thank you. I’m gonna sleep now. I love you <3

[9:43pm] Y/N: I love you too <3

He grins at the final message before placing his phone on the bedside table and looking at the picture of Yoo-jin and him on his own table. Smiling softly, he reaches out and brings it closer to him, rubbing his thumb over her face beneath the glass.

“I hope you’re okay with this baby. I’m sorry you can’t be here, I wish you were. I hope you’re not mad at me for being with Y/N. I think you’d approve though, I really love her a lot already and she makes me so happy. I miss you, but I hope you’re okay with me moving on. I won’t forget you though, like I told Soo-ah.” Placing the frame back on the table, he turns off the lamp and curls up beneath the covers with a sigh before drifting off to sleep, his dreams filled with his daughters, you and Yoo-jin as a happy family together.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Bloodstone | Part 10 (Final)

Summary: You knew all about the ring your grandmother had told you about and yet when the stone fell from it one fateful day, you weren’t truly prepared for its return, nor who it came back with.

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

Genre: fantasy / romance

Warnings: grief over loss, cursing

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

You knew Namjoon was gone before you opened your eyes. The foreboding feeling made you clamp your eyelids together instead, refusing to face reality just yet.

Although you had been concerned with how you would cope without Namjoon in your world, as you laid as still as you could possess, your mind ran towards thoughts of his safety. Was he alive? Did he find himself in a place he was familiar with? Was he trapped in another dimension?

Blindly searching for signs of his disappearance, you gasped when something sharp pierced your skin, snapping your eyes open. There, embedded into your finger and allowing the crimson blood to trickle from the wound was a shard of crystal.

Your emotions flooded you then. Collecting up the pieces of the shattered stone, you rocked back and forth, clutching them to your chest. You wailed out in pain for your loss. You screamed to the heavens in anger. You silently allowed the emotions to fall from your eyes, feeling numb from the whole experience.

Eventually, you lost consciousness.

“Y/N? Y/N!” a voice called out and groggily you peered through an eyelid, a panic-stricken Yoongi appearing before you.

So, it wasn’t all a horrible dream after all.

“Are you okay?”

Holding out your hand to show Yoongi the shattered state of the stone and your heart, you blinked when your palm came up empty. Sitting up hurriedly and looking around yourself, you found your space void of any signs of Namjoon and the stone.

Yoongi sighed. “It’s probably whole again.”

“Bastard rock.”

“It’s been three days since I saw you. I don’t know why I didn’t come sooner. I just felt this strong urge to come and check on you. It was almost as if Namjoon infiltrated my mind. Sounds really crazy, doesn’t it?”

You attempted to laugh hollowly. “Yoongi, hasn’t everything we’ve experienced for the last few weeks been unreal?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“I’m glad you remember him,” you admitted in a small voice, swallowing down the growing lump in your throat. “I was worried life would return to before he arrived here and I’d go insane being the only one with the knowledge that he existed.”

With time, life did recover some normalcy. After mourning for another week, you managed to pull yourself up every morning, consume a mug of coffee to help battle with the fatigue you were experiencing and returned to your job. You ate the same foods you had with Namjoon, and with some time, you began to smile with the fond memory as opposed to tearfully choking the spoonfuls down. You did the things you wanted to with Namjoon one by one, hoping that ticking them off your list honoured his short and tumultuous stay in your world. You kept a journal, but unlike the one Eliza had avidly written with Namwoo at her side, you chose to document the things you did without Namjoon. It held you accountable for keeping to your promise.

It was hard to live without Namjoon, but you were determined to do so.

Still, nights were the worst. You still dreamed of him. His touch felt real within your slumber, the sensual sighs and whispered love confessions lingering even after you became alert. It was difficult to grapple with what was real and a faint memory when you opened your eyes for the first time each morning. Swallowing down the disappointment when you realised your bed was cold and empty of his presence grew harder the longer he was away.

You had endured six months without the man who had turned your world upside down with mere weeks together.

Strangely, the ring had also gone missing. When the stone had left it just a silver shell that you had placed within the drawer of your bedside table. After several weeks of recovering from Namjoon’s disappearance, you had opened the drawer to look at the ring. Even after emptying all the contents onto your bed, it had eluded you. You had searched your entire home upside down for it, even going as far as to check at the comic store as well.

The ring had gone just like Namjoon had.

“What do you want to do with all of this?” Yoongi asked when you visited him again, pointing to the stack of books. You eyed them curiously until you realised what they were. Thinking back to the day he had walked out of your apartment carrying them all, you sighed heavily. You had been so optimistic that Yoongi would find an answer in them.

And he had. It was just not one you had hoped for.

Grinning, you shrugged. “Should we burn them?”

“You want to close that chapter of your life for good?” Yoongi wondered and you shook your head. “I didn’t think so. Why be so dramatic in answer then?”

“Weren’t you the one who claimed this was all sounding a bit like Lord of the Rings? Doesn’t Frodo throw the ring into the fires of Mordor?”

“You don’t have the ring anymore to throw out even if you could.”

“No, the ring left its owner. I hope it’s not harassing another poor soul with the idea of love. It needs to be destroyed for good.”

“Perhaps Namjoon took it with him.”

“I strangely miss it,” you murmured, looking at your finger. Despite not wearing it for some time, the indent it had made upon your skin remained. It made you shiver, feeling a sense of emptiness.

Distracting yourself from the depressing concept, you reached for the stack of books, dragging them towards yourself and off the countertop. Yoongi appeared at your side, gauging if you needed his help to balance them. After rearranging the bunch a little, you shot him a satisfied smile. “I’ll take them back home. I’m sure they’ll find their places upon the bookshelves again.”

“Having them back might help with more closure to the situation,” Yoongi offered and you shared a hopeful smile before heading out into the bright afternoon.

Once home, you struggled down the hallway to your final destination, guiding the bottom book up onto your desk. Relieved to let go of the weight, you wiped at your perspired brow and removed a layer of your clothing, staring at the stack of ancient texts dejectedly.

“Why did I bring you all back here?” you asked yourself before reaching for the book on the top, taking it over to the bookshelves upon the wall and finding it a place. You repeated this task until all of them were house away neatly.

“Dinner,” you mentioned when your stomach began to grumble. After making yourself a bowl of ramen, you returned to the study to spend some time on your computer. It was about an hour into your online perusing that you heard a thud behind you from the shelf. Spinning around in the computer chair, you noticed a book had fallen to the floor. Getting up to retrieve it, you stopped when you realised what book it was.

It was the one that held the information about the ring. Gulping as the hairs stood up on your arms, you gingerly reached out for it, picking it up and cradling its spine. “You belong on the shelf now.”

Hesitating to place it back, you instead found yourself flipping through the book, ending up on the page that had changed your world all those months ago. Fingering the ancient ink gently, you winced at the pain forming in your chest and shook your head. “It’s too early for me to contemplate this fondly.”

Placing the book back on the shelf, you turned around, stopping a second time when your gaze caught something on the floor reflecting under the lights.  Stooping down to retrieve it, you couldn’t believe it.

“You weren’t here before, now were you?” you asked of the ring, rapidly looking around the room.

“No, but nor was I,” a voice mentioned with a hint of amusement and you stopped searching when your eyes landed on the purple-haired man in the doorway. Namjoon smiled and nodded as if to answer your disbelief. “I’m back, Y/N.”

It had appeared again.

This time, however, the stone hadn’t arrived alone before him. It was firmly embedded in the silver that you had once shown him and after staring at it for some time, Namjoon boldly reached out to pick it up.

After everything he had gone through because of this stone, he was no longer scared, if anything, he hoped its arrival meant something would happen to take him back to you.

It wasn’t hard to fall back into routine at home. Marian had during his disappearance turned to the local farmer’s son for support and now that Namjoon was back, he hardly saw the girl. It came as no surprise to him when she came home proclaiming she would marry Jungkook. And once she was married, the house felt fuller than before.

Namjoon yearned to leave again. He was satisfied his sister would have someone to cherish her for always. Admittedly, their shy love for one another only made him crave you. His heart ached more often than not and so to avoid their newlywed bliss, Namjoon spent from dawn to dusk working in the gem studio. But even they didn’t amaze him as much as before either.

The ring appearing whole certainly piqued his interest though. “Are you here to take me home?”

Inspecting it up close, he noticed it no longer glowed. The stone was no longer red even. It was golden, affectionate and inviting. It felt warm and fluttered when he closed his palm around it. He smiled, letting out a laugh soon after. Holding the ring made him feel connected to you again as if he was close enough to reach out for your world and dive back into it.

Closing his eyes, he found the warmth in his palm turning scorching hot, letting it go instantly. Hearing the ring clatter to the ground, Namjoon opened his eyes and looked around himself.

“Where did you go?” he wondered, dropping onto his hands and knees on the floor, searching under the desk for the ring. Crawling through the gap to the opposite side, he frowned when his hand touched something fluffy and soft. Blinking rapidly, he gripped onto the fibres before leaping to his feet and wildly glancing around himself.

“I’m not dreaming right?” he murmured, feeling all over his body for any telltale signs. And then he grinned, staring at all your homely clutter. He hadn’t realised he had missed it all until he soaked them in with his stunned focus, even dropping onto the couch to hug it. “I’m home!”

It was then that he realised he hadn’t found the ring yet. Going along the hallway, Namjoon’s breath halted when he saw the light on in the study.

Hearing you talk to the books made his chest swell and he stopped just before the door, listening on for some time. It seemed you found the ring that had granted him passage back here and after listening to you a moment longer, Namjoon stepped forward, finally catching your gaze.

“You’re real?” you asked after he told you he was back and Namjoon merely opened his arms, waiting for your impact.

Dashing across the room to enter his waiting embrace, he held you tightly to his chest once you collided against it. “I’m back. This time for good.”

“How do you know?” you wondered, looking up at him earnestly.

Namjoon reached for the ring you had in your grip and held it up. “It brought me back here. And look, it’s no longer the stone of blood.”

Inspecting the golden colour, you then glanced at the book and paled. “It’s something else now?”

“Maybe for this lifetime it’s just happy to finally succeed in bringing two lovers together.”

“I don’t trust it just yet but if it brought you back to me, then that’s something.”

Laughing, Namjoon placed it upon your finger. It glowed once before it settled completely. You eyed him suspiciously and Namjoon shrugged.

“I expect a proper proposal when the time comes.”

“You know I’ve had a long time to piece one together during my wait to see you again.”

“You know what else I’ve had a long time to think over?” you asked and Namjoon waited for you to continue. “What it truly feels like to have you kiss me once again.”

Leaning down to meet you midway, love blindly led you both into a realm of passion and reconnection during the embrace. He felt his heart soar and then collide into yours, firmly embedding itself there much as the stone had into his chest once. This time though, he knew there was nothing that could shatter this bond.

You were his truest love.

_________________

Thank you for supporting this series

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[BTS Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[thinkyoureholy]

Blessed With A Curse [3]

.

.

.

Pairing : Kang Yeosang / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Greek God!AU

Words : 2.8k

Previous Chapter. - Next Chapter.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

-Yeosang’s P. O. V-

I ran through the dense forest, forcing my legs to go faster. This sense of dread and urgency had filled my entire being for the past hour. I couldn’t quite place why I was feeling like this but I knew I had to get there quick. I didn’t know why I was feeling this but it was a feeling all too familiar to me. Images of them crying out to me for help as they were mercilessly slaughtered painted the walls of my mind, their screaming echoing loudly. With that in my mind I pushed myself harder, my chest heaving up and down rapidly as I ran. I was so focused on getting there in time I didn’t sense those that hid behind the trees until it was too late. 

I barely managed to deflect the arrow that was aimed straight for my heart. I grit my teeth when a sword followed that arrow, once again narrowly missing its mark as I blocked it. 

“Athena!” I growled, pushing back against her, slamming my shoulder into her to throw her back. 

I raised my sword up high, about to cut her down when I froze at the cry that rang through the forest. 

“Yeosang!!” 

I looked around desperately, trying to figure out in which direction her voice came from. I was only distracted for a second but that was enough for one of them to kick my legs out from underneath me, landing a blow to my face at the same time. There was only one that had that kind of speed, my eyes finding him quickly. 

“Hermes.” I snarled, glaring up at him. 

I quickly got to my feet but as soon as I did I felt something like a whip hit my back. I turned to see someone I least expected, my eyes growing wide. 

“Poseidon?” I expected the rest of them to be here, hell I even expected Apollo but never Poseidon. 

“YEOSANG!”

I inhaled sharply at the pain filled shout that filled the quiet forest. I turned in every direction, wanting to go to her but I didn’t know which way to go. Frustrated, I let out a cry of my own, the sound that fell from my lips almost animalistic as the ground shook underneath my feet. 

“Where is she!?” I shouted, my eyes darted over all of them, falling on Artemis, the one closest to me, “What the hell are you doing to her!?”

Artemis didn’t even flinch as she looked me dead in the eye, not bothering to answer as Athena spoke for her, “You’re the reason we had to go after her in the first place.”

I whirled around to face her, about to kill her where she stood but before I could bring my sword down Y/N’s screams stopped me. This time she didn’t even call out my name, her cries higher and filled with agony. My hand shook as I gripped my sword tightly, the sense of dread that filled my heart only growing as I continued to helplessly hear her cry out. I knew I could beat them if I just lost myself to my temper and my impulses but if I did that I’d lose control. If I lost control I’d tear this whole forest apart and burn it to ashes, taking her along with them. I bit my bottom lip harshly as I thought of what to do. I could fight them as I was but with hearing her screams every few seconds I don’t know how well I’d fare against them. Each scream, each cry had my heart twisting painfully in my chest, the lump in my throat only growing bigger and bigger. 

“Once we’re done with her we’ll finish you off once and for all.” Hermes said as Poseidon continued, “But for now you’ll have to hear the agony she’s going through.”

I inhaled shakily through my nose, my eyes filling with unshed tears for the first time in I don’t know how long, “Why..? Why must you go after everything I care about? Was casting me out of my home not enough for you?!”

Athena raised her head slightly, the look in her eyes filled with contempt, “You, more than anyone, know why we cast you out, Ares.”

“You lot were deceived! I am many things but I would never do that to Hephaestus!” I shouted, already sick and tired of having to defend myself, “You’ve already cast me out so why are you doing all of this?! Why go after her?! She’s innocent in all of this!”

They all just stared at me, emotionless, probably enjoying the look of desperation on my face. I reached out and grabbed Poseidon’s arm, my fingers digging into his skin.

“Please, I’m begging you, stop this,” I begged, my voice breaking as another one of her cries pierced the air.

“You should’ve never given her your mark if you wanted to keep her out of all this.” Poseidon said, his voice void of emotion, “You know exactly how your humans get once their power is unlocked, they’re more troublesome than you are.”

“But she hasn’t even done anything yet! Is that not enough to let her live!? She’s carried my mark with her since she was born, twenty-two years have gone by and she has not once raised a weapon against another! There’s a possibility she may never even unlock that power!” I yelled, my breath catching in my throat as I looked over them, “It doesn’t matter what I say to you does it? You’re going to kill her regardless of how I plead for her to be spared…” I trailed off as I finally realized nothing I said would get them to stop.

“Yeosang! Help me! Please!!”

-

I gasped as I sat up, jolted awake by the nightmare I was stuck in. I was panting heavily, the nightmare still so vivid in my mind. I curled in on myself, clawing at my heart, the organ beating painfully in my chest. The sense of dread had failed to leave me even as I woke up, getting the feeling that this was some kind of premonition. Just the thought sent my heart racing as it throbbed in my chest. As I tried to calm myself I gripped the hilt of my sword tightly, only one thing on my mind as an intense fire burned in my eyes. 

……

I smiled softly as the wind carried her laugh over to me, catching a glimpse of the joyful look on her face. But the smile soon left my lips as I caught sight of him, a frown now adorning my face. I’ve been shadowing Y/N for a little over a month now and in that time I’ve seen just how close she is with Apollo. I was sure I threatened him to keep away from her, I guess I’ll just have to teach him what happens when you don’t heed my words. I clenched my hands into tight fists, taking a step towards the two of them but stopped at the voice that called out to me from my right.

“I don’t think that’s very wise, brother.” 

I ground my teeth at the sound of her voice, turning slowly to face her, “Athena...you’ve got guts showing your face around me. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I was trying to stay calm, afraid that if I lost my temper I’d end up destroying everything within miles of where I stood. If I did that then Y/N would get hurt, and that’s the last thing I wanted. So, for her sake, I was holding off on ramming my sword through Athena’s heart. But the condescending look she wore on her face was hard to ignore. I dug my nails into my palm, drawing blood as I forced myself to endure it.

“I have something of importance to talk to you about.” She said, her lips quirking up into a smirk.

“Tell me why you’re here or leave. I have no time for your games.” I snapped, waiting for her to state her business but she kept quiet. I scoffed, glaring at her for a moment longer before turning my back on her.

“It has something to do with that human girl you seem to be fond of.” She called out, the teasing tone in her voice clear as day.

I tensed at her words but kept my back to her, “What about her?”

A moment of silence fell over us, the air surrounding us so tense it was almost suffocating, “I hear you’ve claimed her. If she carries your mark then you know better than anyone what that means. She’s an Athenian so I-”

I couldn’t control myself anymore. I turned on my heel and reached out, grabbing her neck with my hand, “You what?” I seethed, bringing her in closer so our faces were inches apart, my hand squeezing her throat tightly but not tight enough she couldn’t get a word out.

“I have...authority...over her…” She choked out, digging her nails into my wrist to get my to let go but I only squeezed harder.

“Let’s get something straight here, little sister. You can have authority over all the Athenians you like, hell you can have it over everyone else in the world but you have absolutely no authority over Y/N. She is mine and mine alone,” I growled, throwing her to the ground as I stood over her, “You lot have taken all my humans from me, all of them! I will not allow you to take another. I’ll kill you before you even get the chance.”

She scoffed, pushing herself up off the ground, sitting up and staring at me with contempt, “I’ve fought you and won before, I’ll do it again.”

I chuckled darkly as I crouched down in front of her, reaching forward to roughly grab her chin with my thumb and index finger, “Just try it. I can guarantee you won’t win a second time. You’ve all taken everything good I’ve ever had, my home, my people, everything. I will no longer allow you to do as you please. Stay away from her if you know what’s good for you. I will not hesitate to cut you down where you stand. If you do not heed my warning then prepare yourself for a battle you won’t come out of alive, not even your wit will be able to save you,” I spat out, throwing her head back roughly.

I rose to my full height, staring down at her for a moment before turning my back on her. It took everything in me not to kill her in that instant by I restrained myself. For all the hate I had for her and the rest of my siblings there was still a part of me that wished to protect them from all harm, even though I knew those feelings weren’t reciprocated. And knowing that, hurt more than anything but I’ve learned to live with it all these years. But I will not let them get away with threatening Y/N, they can do what they like with me but she is off limits, not even I can touch her.

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

“Wooyoung can you bring in the apples from the back!?” I called out, barely sparing a glance over my shoulder as I placed the last orange where it belonged. 

I placed the crate underneath the table, leaving it there for later. As I straightened back out I felt eyes on me. I turned on my heel, seeing the man from the cave standing in the doorway. It had been a month since I last saw him but nothing about him had changed. Actually, now that the sun is out I got to see his face better. I thought he was handsome at night with his hair framing his face due to the rain but I couldn’t even see a fraction of his handsomeness in the rain. With the sun out without a cloud in the sky his skin seemed to glow, his hair perfectly styled out of his face and his eyes, they shined brightly, holding me captive. 

“Yeosang…” I murmured without thinking. 

He grinned the moment his name fell from my lips, a blush coating my cheeks at the look that crossed his eyes. I quickly looked away, feeling like I was being sucked into those beautiful eyes of his. He chuckled, the sound deep and resonated in my ears. 

“I’m glad to see that you remember my name.” He said with a grin still on his face, his tone light as he continued, “I was worried you had forgotten about me already.”

“How could I forget someone like you?” I asked, again speaking without thinking. 

When I realized what I said I cleared my throat, glancing at him for a moment only to see the grin on his face widened, his eyes shining brighter than before. Ah, why did I say that? Why am I just saying everything that comes to mind without thinking it over?! What the hell is wrong with me today?!

He chuckled once more, the sound lighter than before, a fondness in his voice as he spoke, “Well I’m glad I made such a strong impression,” His smile softened before it disappeared and a frown took its place, “Though I’m sure it wasn’t a very good impression. I’m sorry about how cryptic I was that night, it wasn’t my intention to frighten you. I also apologize for being so rude to you…”

He averted his eyes as he spoke, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Just the sight had my heart racing. What?! Why are you going out of control?! Stop that!, I shouted to myself, scolding my heart for being so affected by these minuscule actions of his. I shook my head, trying to clear it of the thoughts that wanted to invade my mind, thoughts of him.

“Uh...well…”I trailed off, not knowing what to say, “Apology accepted… I guess…?”

He laughed, the sound different from when he chuckled lightly, dare I say this laugh of his sounded even better than the first, “Ah, you’re a lot more entertaining than I thought…” He murmured under his breath.

“Huh?”

He shook his head, the smile on his face seeming to be permanent. He opened his mouth to say more but before he could another voice interjected, “Y/N! Where do you want these?”

I quickly whipped around to see Wooyoung walking over to me with that crate of apples I had asked him to grab, “Where they always go.” 

He didn’t even spare me a glance as he glared at Yeosang, the hold he had on the crate tightening. I raised a brow, confused over what had gotten into him. As I went to question him about it Yeosang spoke up. 

“So, do you—do you think you can help me out with a little shopping?” He asked, a bit hesitant to voice his question. 

I stared at him in shock, his words catching me off guard. It was such a simple request, one I’ve done for many customers in the past. So why did I find it so shocking coming from him? He must’ve mistaken the shock in my eyes for something else as he began apologizing. 

“Ah, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’re busy-“

“No!” I said, my voice higher than normal, “No...it’s—it’s okay. I’d love to help.”

The grin he wore earlier reappeared on his face as he followed after me, deeper into the shop. 

-Yeosang’s P. O. V-

I paused for a moment as we walked by Apollo. I gave him a quick glance to see his head was slightly bowed as he gripped an apple tightly in his hands. I smirked at the sight of his obvious anger, loving the way his whole body trembled with the rage he felt within. 

“You did well, brother,” I said in a low voice, placing my hand on his shoulder, “I hope you continue to stay out of my way. If you do so you have my word there will be no problems between the two of us but if you slip up even once…” I trailed off, placing my hand on his shoulder and squeezed roughly, drawing a hiss of pain from his lips, “Not only will I pay you back for the betrayal you put me through on Olympus but for touching what is so rightfully mine. I won’t kill you, at first. I’ll put you through so much unimaginable pain that you’ll be begging me to kill you. But that’d be showing you too much mercy and as you know...I’m not the merciful type.”

.

.

.

General Tags : @mirror-juliet​ 

[dropsofletters]

the fader

title: the fader pairing: lee minhyuk/reader genre: traveler!au/strangers to lovers!au/one time love!au summary: there he is, the angel with a devilish smile, the new guy in town that has everyone talking. seated on the hood of his car, exchanging a few looks with her as she talks to her friends outside her workplace, she wonders if this is what the start of those romance movies feel like. minhyuk is here to stay, he promises her, time and time again. type: angst/fluff/romance/humor/suggestive word count: 18,812 disclaimer: this is part of my august special called ‘the anti-love club’. each story can be read individually, however, you’d be getting a little bit more of backstory along with some easter eggs if you read each of them, as well as helping me with support. the masterlist can be found here.

Not only a collector of material beings, she is, for there is something she also prides herself in: her collection of memories.

Not because of her intelligence, for the life of her she has never considered herself to be such thing, but because she can grip every bit of information from stories and myths, a lover of history over anything else. Complicated is the absolute opposite of it all, the town is not big enough for it to be a complex set of historical matters, and the people in there are not as much of a big group for her not to know what is happening. If anything, the whispers around the town could be heard everywhere, the greetings are loud, clear...everything is exposed, nothing left for imagination. If someone is bad, everyone knows it. If someone holds the rainbow in their smile, everyone notices.

The small city is the only placed she has ever been in. God forbid she ever goes to one of the places she has studied history from; planes sound like a flight to death and that irrational fear would never leave her bones. Nonetheless, she doesn’t complain, much less when Sundays come by and she is free from her job with Miss Hwang. 

Sundays have always been eventful for her, welcomed by the diner that the individuals in this town often frequent. Rugged, old, full of memories and nice meals, enough for her to burn her tongue whenever she takes a bite of her food, delicacy in the form of home. Only when the youngest of the town heard her tell the tales of horror that went around the town did she get some company, for before anything happened, she would only grab a bite of food and look around for her friends to accompany her. Nowadays, or more like since a year ago, children of the town drag their friends over and sit down in the same table as her, some on seats, others on the floor, others standing, wanting to hear the new story that she has investigated.

Her talking skills are entrancing, she can say, she is good at storytelling, at giving away the necessary bits and keeping the uninteresting to herself. This routine has led her to feel more fulfilled, connected with her roots more than ever, waking up early in the morning simply to re-read over her favorite history books of her town, all courtesy of Miss Hwang. The dusty pages, the chatter of the children, the trip towards the diner every single moment of mid-day to grab some lunch. Everything made her feel useful, a new badge of memories added to her story.

Her feet are moving frantically at this point, knowing that lunchtime was just arriving and she had gotten quite lost in her own textbooks. The dust of the old streets flickers up at the mere weight of her shoes, nonexistent for someone who has grown up in such a place, the heat coming from the sky falling upon her skin and doing nothing more than warm her up. This is her daily life, the reason why she would never want to leave such a place—more than her home, it is a part of who she really is.

The first one to greet her is one of the old men that stand in front of the diner, a cigarette in between his lips that would never match the soft smile that comes from David. He lifts his hand in a salute, typical of him when he calls her name sweetly. “Haven’t seen you here in a long time.”

She rolls her eyes, smiling at the sound of the man’s voice as she presses her back to the entrance door, only needing a push of her weight to open it. “I’ve been cooking, you see. Besides, I was here last Sunday—”

“I feel betrayed,” David adds exaggeratedly, earning a few laughs from his group of old people. The over seventies club, she likes to call them inside her head. “You know there’s no food like the one my family makes.”

“I know,” She adds, a pout on her tone when she places her hand over her heart. “I won’t do it again. I sincerely missed your food.”

“Don’t worry.” The old man finishes, taking a drag of his cigarette and smoking a cloud into the air. As if the town is not heated enough, he plays part in the contamination of the world. Nonetheless, David has never been short of a good man—when times were the toughest, all caused by her adored yet non-giving job, he’d offer her free food. Something along the lines of ‘you’re like my daughter’ is his excuse. “Ask for whatever you want. It’s in the house.”

“Thank you.” She says with a big smile on her face, pushing the door open with her butt before stopping on her tracks. Her fingers point inside, a quirked eyebrow highlighting her statement: “Are the children waiting outside?”

“When are they not?”

“Sorry.” She apologizes, a hiss in her tone when one of David’s friends shake their head. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He starts. “This place has never seen as much life as you give it.”

Upon entering the diner, she realizes she couldn’t lie to herself—this is what she loves the most, pleasing people, being praised for her hard work, and most importantly, giving out something to this difficult, somewhat impressively tough world. The wood by the walls are covered in family pictures...David’s great-grandfather, his grandfather, his father and so on and so forth. Much to the adoration of this place, it was now in the hands of David’s daughter, the cause of her filled stomach on Sunday days. The chattering of people is tranquil, some embarking on their food trips, other finishing off with a cup of coffee and on her usual table, the one with the torn red leather seat, there are a group of people already waiting for her. Mostly her closest friends and the children of the small town.

She rests her book down, letting out as sigh of delight when she receives greetings. How can one be lonely in such a place, where voices are always heard, love is always felt? She doesn’t know. The thought has never crossed her head. “Stop making a fuss,” She tells the children, the youngest—the sweet young boy around five years old—is the first one to keep his mouth shut. “We’ll make the other people here feel annoyed. Come on.”

Emily, the mother of the five-year-old, and one of her closest friends, speaks as she twirls her son’s curly hair in between her fingers, her glasses lowering when she gives her a tired glance. “You’re the one that started with this kindergarten slash elementary club. I’m sure everyone in town knows they love you.”

This is one of the reasons why she continues to read, continues to look for myths and the truth of this town. She doesn’t want anyone to ever feel embarrassed of where they came from—she wants art to be worshipped, loved, taken into consideration. This can only be fulfilled by teaching the youngest, which is why she plops down on her seat, extending her hands on top of the table. “I’ll go order and then, I’ll tell you guys the story of why this town is called the way it is.”

Something beautiful grows within her when she realizes that no number of negatives in her bank account could ever take this away from her: her memory. Even with her eyes closed, she could recognize the food from David’s diner. Even with her soul taken away from her body, she’d always go back home, ready to go out on Sundays—at twelve sharp, wanting to tell the story of such a place. She remembers how in her first years of living, the dusty streets had been the cause of her allergies, but she continued playing. How, sometimes, she wished she could live stronger winters, wished to touch the snow with the tips of her fingers, but she found beauty in the colors of yellow and orange that surrounded the city. Young, old, whoever passed by that town would know that it is impossible to grasp it away from you, to pluck the seed inside their heads that tells them everything here is real.

A small community, surely, but beautiful in its own way.

Excitement is what she tries to speak with, it need to be taught that way. History teachers, and even general instructors in life such as family members and friends, rarely have that tone when speaking about something. Being emotional about something that a person can like is seen as stupid—no one can speak their thoughts out without being judged. This, masked as insecurity or shyness, has destroyed the originality of life. It shall be lived in spoken words, in trials and errors, in grasping the reality that has made them and turning it into the future.

Only two hours later does she get to go outside, wondering if she should undo the button of her jeans to fight her bloated stomach. Nonetheless, she doesn’t, instead meeting up with Emily and her group of friends near the street. The curly haired woman is watching her son talk to David with ease, repeating the story that she had oh-so-happily said.

Her back rests against the red car that Emily owns, too old to even move properly, but hers nonetheless. “I can’t believe you’re able to make my child be interested in history. That’s crazy.” Emily utters, not taking her gaze away from her son, an incredulous smile plastered on her face.

Another one of her friends, Liz, shakes her head while laughter bubbles up her throat. “I tell you; she was the one that was supposed to get married, not you, Emily.”

She brings a hand up her chest, widening her eyes at the sound of Liz’s voice. “Oh, hell no. We’re not having that talk.”

While teaching younger individuals about the beauty of their town, she doesn’t think she could deal with anything like a five-year-old at the moment. Too much work, too little income in her bank account. “I’m serious.” Liz continues, moving her black hair behind her shoulders before shrugging. “You take care of everyone so well, it’s so insane.”

Biting back, she crosses her arms over her chest. “Yeah, Liz, why don’t you have a child instead?”

“Oh no, sweetie,” Liz says, a smile on her face that highlights the piercing on her bottom lip. “I want to keep my vagina intact. Look at Emily, she always complains about how saggy hers is—”

Emily finally tears her gaze away from her child, placing her hands on top of Liz’s mouth to stop her speech. This reminds her of the times they used to be in high school—Liz, the troublemaker, more often than not having her tag along and Emily, the one that would cover them had they gotten in trouble. “I—Liz, we’re in public!”

The woman in question takes her friend’s hand in between hers, pulling it away from her mouth before sighing. “Alright, I won’t talk about your vagina. I’ll talk about hers instead.”

She chuckles at her antics. “Stop saying that word.”

“Oh, come on,” Liz complains, taking the time to pull her long hair away from her face, tying it up in a quick bun before releasing a big sigh. Something about her was always too honest, nowhere near as uptight as Emily was, the main reason why Liz is always in the mouths of the people around town. Gossip goes around here quickly. “I’m going to call it spoon from now on.”

“I don’t see where this conversation is going...”

“...Because we need to talk about this.” Her straightforward friend adds, just in time to take her by the shoulders and move her until her line of vision is casted towards what had captured Liz’s attention. The woman’s breath ghosts over her ear as she whispers, a smile practically displayed on her words when she says: “That unknown city boy has been looking at you ever since you got out of the diner and if you don’t go talk to him and get a piece of that ass, I might.”

The sentence rises a chuckle from the depths of her being, unaware of how in the world Liz can come up with such sentences, such honest and yet, somewhat dirty personality. All thoughts are cut from her head when she lifts her gaze, wanting to see who this ‘unknown city boy’ could be. After all, such eventful place is rarely visited by foreigners, travelers, lovers of interesting passports and tourist spots.

Nothing could have prepared her for the smile that was given to her—no, not exactly the smile, but the man himself. Mysterious, not only because of his apparent existence in a place that people rarely visit, but in the way he looks at her. His facial structure is unlike anything she has seen before—polished, eyes with faint lines under them, a straight and slightly rectangular shaped nose, lips in a natural pucker, almost like the wind is kissing him. No one has ever looked quite like an angel more like this man, from his lanky form to the dip of his waist as he leans back on the hood of his car, chin tilted down, sharing a tight lipped smile with her that lifts up to a full on grin, she wonders where in the world someone like him was crafted.

Was he made out of pure stardust?

Was he the great-great-grandson of some monarch in the past?

And also…

“Do you think he’s lost?” She asks Liz in a low tone, unable to fight the smile that appears on her face, one that she returns out of formality. Her eyes can’t pull away from him, an electrifying stance in between them when he ruffles the strands of his bleached blonde hair and finally looks away. 

Liz pats her back at that, a giggly laugh escaping her lips. “Why don’t you find out? Go talk to him!”

Though, throughout her life, she has always liked being the nice person—the one to talk first, the one to help someone stand up...she finds herself looking at Emily for some kind of reassuring stance, only to earn a rapid nod from her most serious of friends. “I��d say to go ahead. He...I mean, only if you want to.”

People forget that it doesn’t take courage to talk to someone first, it takes sentimentalism, an open heart, to be somewhat touched by the graceful existence of charisma. The feeling of her feet moving towards him had not captured his attention, not until she stood by his side, finally getting a good glimpse of this new man in town. Something about him goes past his mysterious stance, as if it is just a thin layer that she craves to look past.

To be quite honest, with herself and with her subconsciousness, she hasn’t actually seen someone of her interest in a while. The downside of living in a place in which she knows everyone is that her options get cut short; those whom she wanted and had the opportunity to date were already in her past, leading her to stand with little to no options. Not that she minded, she thought that whatever she could have in another person, she could seek in friendship, in herself…

But she’s not made of stone. She’s appreciate of people, knowing that what she sees is a recollection of memories and stories, crafted by life, put together by perfectly and yet imperfectly threaded knots.

“Can I help you out with anything? You seem to be a bit lost.” She adds, missing the chuckle that she lets out at the end of her sentence, bounding her hands together in front of her body and if she looked over her shoulder, she’s sure she’d see her two best friends sparing her glances, though not very discreet. The bleached blond turns his attention towards her, lowering his foot from the front of the car until it lands on the floor once again, tilting his head to the side as he speaks.

“Actually, yes, I look lost because maybe, I am.” He speaks, toying with the bracelet around his wrist before he extends his hand forward. Miss Hwang always told her to look at people’s hands and to fall in love with someone with rough, calloused, perhaps a bit thicker hands—this meant that said person was hardworking, someone who would try their hardest at their job and hence, work along with her. This man, the one in front of her, sports delicate and long fingertips, clearly a soft pair of hands, cladded in rings that do not receive much of her attention when she has to lift her gaze up to look into his eyes as he talks. “But before you help me—I’m Minhyuk, nice to meet you.”

She introduces herself, shaking his hand just in time for her to add a comment, one that leaves her lips far too soon, not noticing how hypnotized she is under his brown glare. “You’re the first Minhyuk I meet.”

“The first is always the best.” He comments, bringing laughter up with her as he takes a paper out of the pocket of his leather jacket, one that is far too hot for the weather in this town. The more she looks at him, the more she realizes he does not belong here. Once he extends the piece of paper, she feels his presence looming by her side, creating shadows that he’d never notice when she stares at his profile, only looking at the piece of paper when he starts speaking. “I can’t find my apartment’s address. I just got here this morning and I’ve been driving around trying to find it but I can’t.”

She takes the paper in between her fingers, not missing the way his chest pressed to her arm as he reads over the paper at the same time as hers. “It says fourth street here, not eighth. You’re in eighth right now.”

“Damn it,” He curses, rather loudly, a whine in his tone that catches her off guard. “You don’t have signs that read this here, though. How am I supposed to know?”

“You count from the first street towards the south. The first street is the one that includes our welcome sign,” She starts to explain, turning to him just in time to see him wetting his lips. The glistening brown in his eyes, the stance he holds, the smell of that perfume that is nowhere to be found in this cheap town...everything about him is uniquely pure, enough to make her feel dizzy. “Are you understanding what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, yeah, I do.” He nods, mind completely concentrated on her and she doesn’t miss the heat on her face. Not caused by the warmth she is used to.

“So you count from that street. One, two, three...like that. The fourth one is four streets away from here, then.” She explains, though her hands move in motions to further indicate the direction to him. “It’s the only building you’ll find there, pretty small, nothing out of the ordinary. At the corner of that street you’ll find a yellow house with black gates and all.”

“Alright,” Minhyuk closes one eye, the sun hitting directly into his face when he pulls away from her, a smirk displayed on his features. “I don’t know what I would have done had you not been here.”

“You’ll never be able to find out.” She adds, innocence in her tone though she’s playing around, his shoulders shaking with laughter, running his hand over his forehead as if dusting off fake sweat.

She wouldn’t be surprised if he was really sweating with that leather jacket, heavenly but yet nothing like what is expected to be used here.

Maybe, this was a sign. He is nowhere near someone like her.

“Thankfully.” He replies to her words, only to take his keys out of his pocket while looking at her. “No one got close to me and I didn’t know who to ask already.”

She feels the soft, warm wind moving her hair as she speaks. “Yeah, it’s like that. People in this town are not used to people coming here for tourism.”

His keys fall to the floor, all thanks to his lack of concentration on the task at hand, kneeling to take them in between his hands before humming. “You’ll have to get used to me, then. I’m here to stay.”

She doesn’t know why that brings a sense of purpose inside her body, like she has battled the wondering questions that go through her head asking if she’ll be able to see him again. “I’ll have to see you around, then.”

“Is that a promise?” He asks, teasing her as he walks towards his car. He opens the door then, leaning against it when waiting for an answer.

“It is.”

“Good, I’ll see you later.”

With that, she sees his car departure, not without honking at her one last time and leaving her with a smile. When she gives one step forward, she feels something underneath her shoe, making her scrunch up her nose and look at the content underneath her weight. A glistening silver bracelet sits there, belonging to the man that is now long gone to the fourth street, dancing around her fingertips when she picks it up. A collector, she is, and she recognizes beauty when she sees it—an M, probably from his name, and a few dangling pieces that show a variety of flags from different countries he must have gone to.

“What did he say?!” Liz is the first one to approach her, excitement all over her tone meanwhile, she can only concentrate on the bracelet in between her fingers, a smile plastered on her face.

The only question that roams her head is how could an angel like him decide to fly to this side of the world? 

The question shall remain unanswered for now. 

###

Sometimes, she wonders if she stays at her job because of the intricate details of her craft or because she believes in the renewal of styles, of unknown memories, of being someone else for a night.

Throughout her lifetime, she has met quite a handful of people—and like collectables, she is able to grasp pieces of them, and physical ones, that would always stay with her. Connecting with a memory sometimes includes touching or feeling a material that takes us back in time. That is what happens with costumes—you take someone else's story, wear it over your skin, and you want to be able to have fun while also giving the benefit of recollection to other people. 

Miss Hwang is the one in charge of sewing, threading the pieces of fabric together to create the costumes of immensely amounts of characters, some more vague than others, while she is in charge of the details. The part that tears it apart from a simplistic copy and puts it in an artistic way—a redemption, a reminder of what makes that character so important. While she is not a lover of books, per say, just history ones to be exact, she has had to do endless amounts of studying to nitpick every lace decoration, burn a few pieces of make them more rugged, so on and so forth.

It’s either that or pinching her fingers every time she tries to sew. This is what she is good at—giving it that believable factor.

Not that they sell much, when not crafting or it’s not Halloween, the store is mostly empty, leaving her to be accompanied by her boss and the two dogs that constantly roam around the store. Miss Hwang is a woman over sixty-five years old, with hair so white it resembles snow, but her candidness when speaking—that motherly nature that is so hers, is what makes her someone so important for this town. From crafting her daughter’s, Heejung, wedding gown before she went to the city and bringing the most normal of fabrics to be elegant, there is no doubt that her talent exists. 

She taps her fingers against the wooden, rugged table of the store, looking around to see the jewelry, the collectables, and she trails her gaze down to the bracelet that rests around her wrist, one that had stayed there for the past few days ever since the encounter with Minhyuk. It fits, to think about him, when Miss Hwang has some kind of romantic song playing from her vinyl, getting a sigh out of her lips that goes unnoticed when she looks at the flags on the pendants.

Thus, her knowledge doesn’t come from travelling, but from studying from those history books instead—

The elegant France is in there.

Three colors, yellow, blue, red. Colombia is in there, as well.

Belgium.

Japan.

Ireland.

Minhyuk must be a man of wealth, able to afford all these trips...he looks like the type to have gone to all these places. The thought can’t be taken away from her head, not when one of Miss Hwang’s dogs, starts barking excitedly, only reasoning for someone to be there. She never does anything lazily, lifting her gaze in excitement, waiting for anyone to be buying a costume out of nowhere—it happens sometimes, in her defense—but when she gives a few steps forward, always from the shelves and hangers that hold their costumes, she sees the person that she would have least expected to be there.

Sometimes, she thinks of people as worlds...but Minhyuk ressembled more of a ghost to her. One day, he appeared, smile on face, lost in this small place, and then, he left. People around town spoke about him, she had heard once or twice when visitors came to the shop or when she went out with her friends to sit by the streets and bask on late night conversation—Lee Minhyuk, they call him, so charming they don’t trust him. That leather jacket had been suspicious to some, just like how he says to have wanted to travel there…

You know, it’s quite weird—for someone who could go anywhere, why would he want to end up in that small town? The love of her life, it might be, but definitely not anyone else’s.

There should only be one bell by the door, enough to dingle when someone comes in, but what has made her feel so at home in Miss Hwang’s costume shop is the fact that, just like herself, she likes to collect matters. All those bells, some from the day of her marriage, others ones that she had collected when younger, ring the moment someone comes in—they create their own music, stopping her in her steps when Minhyuk finally connect gazes with her.

And she can’t help but smile, too.

Liz says it, speaks it into existence, turns it into a reality: she loves history, so to have the unknown right in her hands makes her feel excited. She’s artistic, absentmindedly, seeking for that gleam in his eyes, the brightness of his hair, today covered by a hat, now forgetting about his leather jacket and sporting a black tank top. Something about him is stylish, he definitely knows better than most people there, and she can imagine most of the teenagers swooning at the sight of the man...yet, the moment he closes the door behind him, reaching down to pat the two dogs, she knows that there is more to him.

Minhyuk is either a chameleon, ready to become invisible and match with the background of any place he goes to, not going unnoticed but instead, highlighting parts of him that match each part or he is simply just an overall interesting man.

“Huh, so you really work here...”

She hums, nodding just in time to his statement. “Why? Were you asking around to see where I work in?”

Minhyuk stands up at that, balancing his weight on the back of his feet before tilting his head to the side. A teasing smile appears on his features just then. “Do you think I would?” Answerless, more like speechless, she presses her lips together and shrugs her shoulders. “Your friend let it slip, actually. I was talking to her at my workplace and asked about you, she said you worked here. A good friend you’ve got there.”

Emily is always busy with her son, however, the sun of her life, the only reason the smile on her face has gotten bigger. Liz, with her love for cheap alcohol and her hair practically rough at the amount of times she has dyed it black, is another story. That means that it most definitely came from Liz’s lips. “...That was Liz, wasn’t it?” Minhyuk hums, making her clap her hands together as she accepts this moment. Actually, if he had gone through her head so much the past few days, she may as well take this into consideration. “Well, that’s good. You’re my first client of the week...and the day. That means you get to have me all for yourself. What are you looking for in a costume?”

Minhyuk’s eyes widen, taking his hat off his head and showing his disheveled blonde hair. He perches it up nearby, speaking as he does so. “Wait, you sell costumes?”

Chuckling is the least she does, she straight up laughs at his antics as she points around the place with an instructive glance. “This may look like we collect stuff and sell it, or that we sell antique items, but it’s all done by us. You can find the most intricate of costumes here. You want to be a devil? Go ahead. A Disney prince? You’ve got it.”

Minhyuk’s boots click against the floor, kicking fake dust as he gets closer, smiling as enchantly as he is used to. There is no way people could ever believe the rumors that go around about him—angelic features, sweet voice, everything about him is taken from heaven itself. “I’d be whoever you want me to be.”

She walks further into the shop, not trying to show the way embarrassment clings to her features—the line is tacky, he even smiles at his attempts, but she hears him follow closely. “...I’m serious, what are you looking for?”

Her fingers rake through the pieces of clothing in the male’s section, though Minhyuk is also looking through the selections. “I actually wasn’t planning on getting a costume, so I don’t know.”

“Minhyuk—”

“Really, what would you want me to be? You know, to get your attention.” She licks her lips at that, looking to the side to see him resting his weight against one of the shelves, fingertips threading through his own hair when he juts his chin forward. “Got you speechless?”

“I can say I’ve never been told that, yes,” She chuckles, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares at him. “So, you’d become anyone just to get my attention?”

“I could be anyone you want, you know?” He says, fingers threading through the fabrics of clothing he can find nearby, taking a long brown fabric and wrapping it around his head, a vest placed over his shoulders in a hassle as he speaks. “I could be a pirate if that’s what you’re into.” Rapid, he is, almost like he wants to prove his point, reaching for a hat and placing it over his head. “Maybe Indiana Jones? Is there a suit here, can I be James Bond?”

Unbeknowst to her, her hand comes up to slap at his bony shoulder, laughter bubbling up from her body when she lokoks at him, now with a tie wrapped around his neck, a vest, a hair as well as some bandana wrapped around his head. No one that she has gotten to know  would ever do such a thing—this only goes through Minhyuk’s head, probably trying to make her feel more at ease. “None,” She says, wrapping her fingers on the hat and putting it down, continuing with the tie and the bandana, shredding the accesories away. “I want to get to know you. As in you, Minhyuk. I want you to be yourself.”

“Is that really what you want?” Minhyuk asked, shrugging the vest off his shoulders and releasing one of his softest smiles, as if he had not expected such answer. “With what you’ve been hearing from me around this town, you probably think I’m some asshole.”

“They’re not saying you’re an asshole,” She defends, crossing her arms over her chest, soon after putting her index and thumb together to indicate ‘a little bit’. “Maybe a little bit, but I don’t believe them.”

“I’m not a bad guy.” He says. “I just like travelling. There’s something so necessary about being somewhere new for me. I need to discover more places for me to feel like myself—”

She imagines him, in trains and in planes, always getting ready to go to his next place to call home. Does he even consider anywhere home? The question roams through her head, but she pushes it to the side to ask something else instead: “Why here?”

Looking through the costumes, he quirks an eyebrow. “Why here what?”

“This town...I love it, don’t get me wrong, I think it’s underrated for how warm and solid it is as a community, but...” Her fingers hook around the bracelet that is wrapped around her wrist, unfastening it and holding it up his face once he looks at her. “You forgot this when you went to your apartment that time we met and seeing all these flags...and if it’s how I’m thinking and you went there, it just doesn’t make sense for you to come here. This...small town.”

Minhyuk takes the bracelet in between his fingers, holding an atlas in between them almost, like he has the world upon his fingertips and maybe, his beauty is enough for her to consider that, eventually, if the flirty remarks get somewhere, he could have her world as well. Romanticism is historical, just her taste. “I wanted something different,” Minhyuk constructs his train of thought, licking his lips before extending his wrist forward and giving her the bracelet. “Put it on, please?” He asks, and she listens, roaming the skin of his wrist with careful movements, only hooking the jewel before letting go of it. “Last place I was in was Prague and—”

“See? That has so much more to discover and—”

“And I had to move out. I’m in constant need of looking for something different. If I have a life, why not spend it travelling?”

“Because planes are damn scary.” She answers in between a scoff, though her features show how enchanted she is with the conversation, the tranquil shop serving for background noise for the two of them.

“Ah, come on, birds fly every day and it’s okay. Why can’t it be okay for us?” Minhyuk retorts, putting the vest back in place before chuckling softly. “Wait, have you really never travelled by plane?”

“Or by train, or by car. I never want to leave this place.” Aware of how attached she is, it doesn’t surprise her when Minhyuk asks:

“Why?”

“...It’s my home. You never leave home.” Her sense of humbleness and loyalty breathes through her body, smiling enchanted at the shop, the place that didn’t give her much monetarily but gave her a lot of knowledge. “I’d be too drowned by nostalgia if I did. I wouldn’t be able to be like you.”

“I respect it, but I mean it. Travelling is so fun.” Minhyuk says, captivating her attention when he speaks loudly, with fervor, excitedly as well. “You—You never know what to expect, you meet new people and it’s almost like...like you evolve. You’ve got a new set of things to do, it’s crazy.”

“I can imagine.” She replies, looking at him before clapping her hands together. “Uh, you know, since we’re on the topic of getting to know each other and I don’t have any clients...do you like pastries?”

“What kind of question is that?” He trades as an answer. “Of course I do!”

“Then, let’s eat some.”

Only a few facts she gets to know about him as they eat some of Miss Hwang’s favorite pastries, all courtesy of the two bakers in town. His lips sometimes get creamy when he speaks about his first few years in Gwangju, his growth and his love for travelling, how he had learned starting sentences of a few languages and then, went from them on to want to travel. His excitement is palpable—he talks about his first trip, to Osaka to be exact, his nights in Santo Domingo, his trip to New York City...she doesn’t miss the way she speaks about her much less interesting lifestyle, though happy on its own, in the way she always felt like she was accompanied, as if her family was in the community she lived in.

Miss Hwang doesn’t interrupt them for more than asking her to continue with her job in a few pieces of clothing and he does so much as helping her, body looming over hers when he watches her sew the lace pieces in place, putting some buttons in, fixing some fabrics, tearing some in effects to make it look more rugged. He’s fascinated to say the least, wanting to try it out even though he is not good at it—

Minhyuk is just made for trying new things, and she wishes for this renewal of something good to be experimented by him.

When a client finally gets in, she hears the sound of Miss Hwang’s voice calling out for her. Minhyuk pulls away from her, pouting out when he speaks:

“I should leave, then.”

“Probably. Let me walk you to the door, just in case.” She replies, a giggle in her voice just before she watches him take off his bracelet, putting it on top of her hand just as they are walking out.

“For the time being, until we get to see each other again, keep this.” He tells her, taking his hat from the hat-holder in the room to place it over her head, not missing the way he smiles brightly when he finishes off by saying: “I don’t want you to forget me, you know? Not that you could, but...it’s never bad to make sure.”

“No, Minhyuk, keep them. They’re yours and they are probably worth some money—”

Minhyuk laughs, opening the door and leaving it ajar, the rays of sunshine seeping through the slot. “That’s the thing. I’d give you the world if it meant getting to see you smile for me again.”

She scoffs at that, rolling her eyes at his words though the compliment is well received. This is the kind of thing she likes to hear. “Alright, suave guy, I’ll see you some other day.”

“Sooner than later?”

“Sooner than sooner, even.” She retorts, making him snap his fingers before pointing at her.

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

And just like that, he is gone, but possibly to return to her. Something tells her that Minhyuk may have something deep within him that is interested in her, and she can’t help but cling to the hat on her head, to the bracelet pressed to her chest.

What does this man have that makes her so giddy?

###

On the second time Minhyuk visits Miss Hwang’s costume shop, he asks her to go out—as friends, apparently, but his tone says otherwise.

To forget the presence of him in his car would almost be impossible, he makes do for what he has, keeping the automobile with the scent of his perfume, some of his favorite polaroid pictures dangling from the mirror at the center, greeting her with the most gorgeous of smiles when he goes pick her up in her home—not that long of a drive, this town is small, after all—and finally gets a good look at her. The demon and the angel on her shoulders (Liz and Emily if she is getting technical and pointing them out individually) had different thoughts on how she should dress on this supposed ‘friendly encounter’ with none other than Minhyuk. Liz proclaimed a deep neckline would be perfect, matched with jewelry and high waisted pants; meanwhile, Emily said to go for comfort.

Maybe, she should have listened to Emily instead, for apart from his usual perfume there is something else in the air.

“Is that food?” She asks, Minhyuk’s glance finally breaking away from looking at the gorgeous blouse on her body and her baggy pants, white and beige to be exact, now looking towards the backseat to show what seems to be a picnic basket. He leans back on his seat once again, starting the car with a grin on his face.

“You see, there are not a lot of things to do in this town—and I already get to hang out with dancing, singing and drinking people in my workplace every night, I needed something different.” That is something she had gotten to know through rumors but had only been confirmed by Jessica, owner of the biggest bar in her homeplace. As it turns out, Minhyuk is a skilled server—not that good with making special drinks, but he’d be charismatic enough to have anyone in. She doesn’t blame her for believing so.

After all, it’s difficult to get over the sight of him right now. With the pink hues of the sky, indicator of the late afternoon, that cast down on his sculptured features, kissing his tender skin, making him look more like an angel. This is something Emily agrees with…Minhyuk is the main role of whatever romantic movie they had watched when they were teenagers and had expected from then on; the type of guy that swoops her off her feet and makes her feel like there will never be someone like her in this world. Liz, on the other hand, says there is a hidden demon beneath him. And that’s the magic of him, not knowing which side is the one that remains truthful.

His white shirt and denim jeans look expensive, even when they are simplistic, something about him has always been…incomprehensible. How can he get to travel so much? She doesn’t know, but one step at a time, she will discover every layer of him.

“Wait, you didn’t tell me you cooked.” She replies, not noticing how she hooks a leg under her thigh, turning to look at him as he drives. Ring-cladded fingers, he always changes in between the ones he wants to wear, matched with that blonde hair that she loves—messy or kempt, it didn’t matter.

“I get by,” Minhyuk says, chuckling at his own words. “Rice. Eggs. Sandwiches. I think I made the most complete of dinners.”

“The college student dinner, I get you.” She bites down on her bottom lip, laughing at her own words when he looks to her side and she can’t bring herself to look away. He returns his gaze to the road, though with the apples of his cheeks lifted by his grin. “Not that I went to college, either way. I really didn’t.”

“…Because you’d have to leave town? There’s only one university program here.”

“Not because of that,” She answers, reminiscent of the problem child days of her youth. Not that she was problematic, per say, just extroverted, ready to get attention, wanting to have fun with her friends or getting a laugh out of the teachers. “Well, kind of, I would have gone for something history related had it been available here, but then again…leaving is the scariest thing I can think of.”

Minhyuk leans his head against his hand, driving with only one of them. “Speaking of…what is your favorite place in this entire town? I want somewhere nice for us to have dinner.”

Mostly, their town consists of simplistic houses, diners, restaurants, nothing out of the ordinary. The climate is also not made for spacious gardens or lakes, but a momentum of her lifetime crosses her head when she remembers when exactly she had started to become the headache of the elementary school teachers. “Actually, if you go to the second street and turn to the left, there’s this elementary school, right?” Minhyuk says, already driving to where she is pointing at. “In front of it, there is this really pretty park. I used to love the slides that were there so I would always stay there for a bit longer during my break in elementary school.”

He coos at that, eyes gleaming with excitement to hear the people-pleaser that is her saying such things. “What a badass, look at you!”

She nudges his side, a sense of heat up her features. “Hey, it was badass for me! I was a trouble student.”

“Sure.”

“I mean it,” She complies, only to raise her eyebrows. “Were you even worse?”

“Not in elementary…but in college,” Minhyuk continues, chuckling at his own reminder as he pushes the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose up to rest on his head. “I went to college in Ontario and boy, I didn’t pay attention once.”

“Why?”

“…I don’t know, I picked whatever was in the pamphlet and just invested in it. At the end, I didn’t like it.” The spontaneity of him is interesting, somewhat attractive, alluring in its own way when she hums at the sound of his words.

“You’re really unexpected sometimes.”

“Hey, even I surprise myself with my decisions.” His honesty is palpable through his words, swallowing before letting out a short laugh. “That’s the fun part of me, though—Lee Minhyuk, the guy no one can ever figure out.”

…She thinks she can figure him out, though, perseverant she is.

To have him in the same lifetime is a blessing on its own, seated in front of her in the half concrete made and half ground flooring, a fabric in the typical plaid red and white color welcoming them once the sun sets. He even made sure to keep a light in between them as they eat and chat. He can’t keep still when eating, she realizes then, always needing to make a comment—tease, talk thanks to every movement of his tongue. She is not far behind, following after the conversations of their favorite films, he even tries to teach her languages that he is not fluent in himself. An entertainer, he is, with a smile that brings her closer and closer, speaking about her secrets…the ones that are not so secretive in a place like this.

At one of those points, she is walking alongside him in that field, hands tied behind her back, feeling the warmth of him by her side. Her lips can’t stop moving when she recalls the image of her as a child—she’d hide behind the monkey bars, giggling as the teachers went over to pick her up. She loved the attention, for some reason that she can’t quite know, but it wasn’t meant to be malicious. Most of the time, she didn’t even get in trouble.

Trouble, such a big word, Minhyuk even admits he had gotten in some of those in his life.

In between those words, when they have to go back before it gets even darker and mosquitos start biting them, she hears him as he is inside her car. Minhyuk shows that side of him that is mischievous, knowing that he does it simply to tease, to bring laughter beneath himself and the group of people. Trouble, he says he isn’t—but he has been involved in drama, in people that get too attached to him, something that has her keeping the conversation even when he offers to get her back home. If having a cup of coffee late at night in his small apartment just to get to know him is enough to see his presence as a person, she’d do it.

Minhyuk’s apartment is exactly what she should have imagined—it’s messy, for starters, the bed is very near to the kitchen and the bathroom door is open, but he closes it once they get inside. His usual leather jacket is thrown over his bed, but what is the highlight of the room—too filled with anything to ever consider it vintage or modern—is the wall that he left completely abandoned to fill it with a board of sorts. A world map is nailed into the wall, some adhesives in the form of x’s placed on top of the countries he had gone to.

“Shit, you’ve gone to these many countries?” She asks, aware of the cuss that left her lips as she lets her bag fall to the floor, inspecting the big map in front of her, big enough to take the entire space of the wall. Minhyuk chuckles at her reaction as she lets her fingers trail over the continents, even the islands by the Caribbean.

“And I still have more to explore.” Minhyuk says, turning his back and walking over to the coffee machine before starting it, leaning back against his counter to look at her. “Is it that impressive to you?”

“As someone who has only gone as far as the first street, yes.” Admittedly, she stops tracing the map to look at him, biting down on her bottom lip. “Which one is your favorite?”

“Wherever I am in. While I’m there, those places become my home so…” He lets his voice trail, pushing his weight forward before quirking an eyebrow at her. She can feel it deep within her bones, in the way his eyelashes flutter in his blink when his rosy lips part to breathe into the thin air: “Right now, my favorite place is here, with you.”

“Thank you.” She compliments. “…But I’ll get to know your real favorite place—”

“Actually, in all honesty, I don’t have any.” Minhyuk’s long legs move with ease when he stands by her side, giving her a glimpse of his elongated neck and his hair messed up by the wind of their picnic, resting his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. “I’m obsessed with travelling, I can admit that much.”

“Huh, so you think you won’t stay here?”

“Time will tell.” He compliments, rushing towards his bedside table and opening a small box that rests on top of the surface, getting out a few pictures that he must have taken himself. Once by her side again, he gives them to her. “For the moment, though, I can give you a glimpse of every place I’ve gone to.”

The pictures are shown in front of her, and when she turns them around they have the name of the city he was in for the picture. “…Are those all your travelling pictures? No way!”

“That’s impossible,” He says, shaking his head before doubling over in laughter. “These are my most memorable adventures. The one time I got bitten by a scorpion, my first trip—Osaka, some of these are here.” His tongue comes out to lick at the corner of his lips, enticing her when the smell of coffee is not far enough for her to wake up from this dream that is him. “For your little collection of me though, I’ll give you this one.”

The picture shows him seated on a table, coffee brought up to his lips, hair a darker shade, face visibly younger—mischievous, per usual. Once she turns it around, she reads Paris, along with a month and a day. “…Paris?”

“The typical place of love.” He comments, making her stifle a laugh before nodding.

“Yeah, it makes sense coming from you.”

Laughter and conversation becomes too much, sleepily driving her back home at one in the morning, making sure that the coffee on their systems are still electrified when she waves at him goodbye. Inside her apartment, she takes off her shoes, along with her shirt, placing it neatly inside her closet before she sees those two things that scream his name—his hat and his bracelet, not accompanied by a picture of him. She doesn’t miss the way her fingers trace the outline of him, smiling to herself.

Maybe, he really is as angelic as she thinks he is.

###

Windows had never been a sight to look out from, not in this boring town, but with him…she awaits for the moment he comes back.

With her chin propped up on her fist, she looks away from the dogs that normally accompany her, though still petting their furs with one hand, letting out a sigh escape her lips. Another week and Minhyuk has not called back, only giving her a few greetings by text or waving his hand from affair, sometimes pressing a kiss to her cheek in a hassle before returning to his rendezvouses, getting to know more people in town, having more rumors created about him. She feels as though she awaits for a moment of fun; not that she doesn’t have fun with Miss Hwang—quite the contrary, but it is different…it’s the first time she has been interested in someone, the first man that has made her feel like there is more to this world than this town, that there is history in other places that are not only perceived in the books she reads, but past that.

The sound of small heels clicking against the thin flooring barely cuts her away from her trance, the voice of Miss Hwang cutting through the thin air. “Darling, I’m sure he’ll come back. Don’t be waiting there like a poor damsel in distress.”

She puckers up her lips, not liking the term ‘damsel in distress’. “No, grandma,” She says softly, aware of how Miss Hwang would probably give her an earful had she called her other name. “I’m no damsel in distress but—” Once she turns around, she releases yet another sigh. “…He could’ve called. What if he didn’t like our little date?”

“He likes you, of course he does!” Miss Hwang retorts, wrapping her knitted scarf around her neck to see if the costume is coming out greatly. Her eyes are inspecting her figure, the rosy material beautiful against her skin, unbeknownst to her. “That boy has been going around town starting trouble with talking too much but David has not stopped telling me how much he talks about you.”

She lifts her gaze at that, before scoffing softly, her cheeks pressing to the material of the scarf. “…What if he’s all talk?”

“I don’t know.” The reality of her ‘grandma’ is that she is honest. Much like someone of this world that had not gone through motherhood, though Miss Hwang had practically adopted her after her daughter’s departure to another city. “But Minhyuk reminds me of the first love I had, and I had plenty of them.”

“Grandma—” She groans, a smile appearing on her face when the scarf is dragged away from her body, fluffing out her hair.

“I mean it. He was the only man that had me changing my vision—everything was suddenly electrifying, I felt free, I wanted nothing more than to get lost in him.” The way she speaks is so romantic, moving through the place with a smile on her face, almost dancing in her steps before halting them with a finger raised in the air. “Be aware, though, I got so lost in him that I lost me.”

Always interested in a story, she asks: “How so?”

“Ah, just your old lady talking.”

“Come on, grandma, you know your stories are the best.”

A smile appears on Miss Hwang’s face, rolling her eyes soon after. “Says the storyteller of the town.”

“Please, tell me!”

“He was a typical troublemaker. Had him fighting with one of my brothers and that was the end of it. I went against everyone just to get him…and then I realized he just wanted me to change entirely.” The old woman spits out easily, no longer bleeding from her wound before she moves towards the window. She spares a look outside, a tiny smile appearing on her wrinkled face. “But that not may be your story, darling, because a certain young man is getting out of his car and waving his hand here.”

Not in slow motion, but quite the opposite, she turns her head until she is looking out her window, widening her eyes and smiling brightly as she waves back at Minhyuk, not even detailing him past his face when she gets off the stool and gives a kiss to one of the dogs on its face. Rocco, the son of the oldest dog—Nani, wiggles his tail at the attention. “Rocco, your girl is going out.” Before she could put on her coat completely, she looks over her shoulder to see Miss Hwang. “Are you okay with closing and going home alone, Miss Hwang?”

“It’s never alone when Nani is with me.”

“I could always take you back home now and—”

With a push to her shoulders, Miss Hwang takes her out the shop before speaking loud enough for Minhyuk to hear. “Take that girl somewhere nice. No man is fun here!”

Minhyuk laughs loudly at that, waving his hand at Miss Hwang. “I will. Have a nice night, Miss Hwang!”

“You, too, Minhyuk!”

Once in front of her, she gets to be whisked away by the sight of him. Minhyuk is radiating sunshine, the one that is barely just setting at this moment of the afternoon—their typical time to meet, that is. The graphic t-shirt cladding his body is the epitome of beauty on him, this cinematic edge making her be pulled towards him, the sharpness of his personality suddenly seen when she says: “Now that you’ve finally decided to show up…what’s the occasion?”

“You know Jessica,” Minhyuk says, opening the door to his car and extending his arm as if to show her to get in. “If I’m not serving at night, she has me preparing the place in the afternoons—I just got out right now.”

When she gets on the passenger seat, she stops him from closing the door with an extended hand. “You don’t work tonight?”

“It’s my free night.”

“And you’re spending it with me…because…”

“Because it’s billiards night in the bar, and while I may not be working, I get to enjoy playing with you.” Minhyuk retorts, taking her hand in his with a gravity pull, interlocking them together before resting her palm on her lap. “So, if you could put your hand in so I don’t end up crushing it with the door and you could actually be my match for the billiard night, I’d be very happy.”

She does as he says, watching him go around the car before settling himself on the driver’s seat. In the matter of seconds, Minhyuk is starting the car again and going in reverse, hearing her speak with glee. “Jessica rarely hosts billiard nights anymore. It gets quite…frisky in this side of town.”

“How so?” He asks, interested in the way he briefly looks at her before continuing driving. It’s not that long of a ride, really, but he may as well be used to bigger cities in which he needs to use his car—yes or yes.

“People get competitive,” She acquires the memory rather quickly, ready for her storytelling ways. “Actually, before he sadly passed away, Miss Hwang’s husband used to be an excellent player and frequented the billiard nights. One time, he really got into a fight with one of the oldest men here—there were beer bottles thrown and all.”

“No way!” Minhyuk says, widening his eyes before his lips part surprisingly. “And here I was thinking this town was always tame.”

A content sigh leaves her lips when she continues to look at him, his profile hypnotizing but more than that—his talkative ways, the teasing ones, the essence of him existing in the same time as her captivates her. “We’re a tame town, you’re not wrong.” She adds. “But that’s the beauty of my town. There’s art everywhere—in the streets, in the people, roaming these streets when I was a kid was…” She trails her voice, looking out the window to see that, indeed, they are nearing Jessica’s bar. “One of the best memories I hold on to.”

The man in question promises to twirl her world around when he says. “Maybe, you should acquire some more memories.”

“…Should I?”

“I’m here to give you a new set of best memories, actually.” Minhyuk prompts, the car coming to a halt when he pats her knee lovingly, though too quickly, before sending a smile her way. “Let’s go.”

The bar is probably the most modern of spots in the entirety of the town—the old wooden counters are gone, now exchanged for pristine black ones, the tiles in the same color, the colors of blue in the decorations and the walls sported with such clarity that it almost looks like she is in an aquarium, illuminated to utter perfection. Minhyuk’s presence is behind her, leading her on with a tender hand on her waist, pulling her towards the gaming place, billiard tables mostly taken place on, if not for one that is completely empty.

“Do you know how to play?” Minhyuk asks, getting the equipment out and done before she gives him a chuckle.

“Kind of. Liz and I would bet when we were like nineteen, trying to get some money, you know…but I haven’t done it since.” She adds, leaning her weight against the table before quirking a smile up at him. “But you can always teach me, I know what kind of game you’re playing here.”

“…I���m not that good either,” Minhyuk continues. “But we can learn together, have fun.”

“We will, that’s not up to question.” She replies, looking over the stage of the bar to catch a glimpse of the voice that is speaking into the microphone. A poet, releasing their art into the thin air, and that she purely recognizes. “Do you like poetry?” She asks Minhyuk, trying to get to know more of him.

“I hate poetry.” He answers. “What about you?”

“I don’t get it,” She says, turning to him to see that he is concentrated on starting the game. “But there is this poet that I really like…he’s not that well-known…Nunu? I think that’s his pen name.”

“He must be good if he captures your attention.” Reminiscent of the pieces she has gotten to see online, she shakes the thought away before pushing her weight forward to start the game.

Fun is the most she has.

At some point, Minhyuk is the one trying to teach her, arms sprawled over hers, fingertips tracing the outline of her fingers when he helps her just get the hit just right. His abdomen is pressing to her back, height looming over her, lips almost so close that she could feel him speak and instead of pulling away, she gets closer, wanting to feel his perfume engulf her, to feel the warmth of his breath over her skin. Anyone in there could realize that there is something going on in between the two and the best part of it all is that she doesn’t care. She may be a people-pleaser, indeed, but this is the moment she gets to live at her will.

Praises leave his lips—the ones that sugarcoat her and have her up in the clouds, the taste of cotton candy resting on the tip of her tongue, Minhyuk is that…a sweetener, the one in her coffee, in her favorite pastries, the one that has her addicted, in some way or another, of being just as dulcet as him. Only when they are getting out of there, the promise of a long night filled with conversation long gone when she remembers she has to get up early the next day, does she hear her name being shouted over the sound of music, the poet long gone from sight:

“Don’t listen too much to pretty boys,” One of the drunken women there says. “They never care!”

She actually chuckles, sending her goodbyes to the woman that she knows by name but once seated in the car, conversating with Minhyuk as he takes her home, she wonders if there is some reality to it. If he is just one of those gravitational pulls of life that will only keep her tied to the ground, if she is choosing the devil to dance with in a world of angels. This is out of her head when she is front of her door, Minhyuk’s footsteps haltered in front of her when his mind makes out the sound of the woman’s voice at the bar.

“Listen,” He breathes out, hands looming over her shoulders before they press down. Once in there, they trail up her neck to cup her cheeks, staring into her eyes when he speaks, rather quickly. “Listen to me when I tell you…I really do care about you.” He nods his head, forehead a bit wrinkled under the weight of his words.

She leans into his touch, because no one has ever made her feel as unique as him—in this small town, she feels bigger than ever when with him. She seeks for him, wants him to fill her lungs, much more when she breathes out a small: “I know. I care about you, too.”

“I’m going to voice it out better…” Minhyuk says, body growing closer to her, her back now softly colliding against her door. His voice lowers at that moment. “From the moment I saw you in front of the diner, I thought I needed to talk to you. Now that I get to know you better, I know I like you.”

Perhaps, it’s the fact that she has not been in this situation for a long time, or it because it was meant to happen for her to like Minhyuk that her lips go over to his in a trip of fervor, wanting to get all of him through an energetic kiss. His left hand ends on her nape, deepening the kiss with a bit of sloppy nature, quite rushed in his matters, as if he needs to feel her in every part of his body. His neck extends, her back bending a bit backwards as she traces her hands over the collar of his shirt, not caring that anyone could see them at that moment. Freedom is all she needs, the treacherous stance of being with him suddenly intoxicating when Minhyuk bites down on her bottom lip, hands trailing downwards on her back before she pulls away with a soft pat on his chest.

“Not…tonight. I can’t take it any further” She tells him, aware of how she only wants to give him the best of the best, savor him as a person the most she could before getting him all for herself. Minhyuk’s eyes open at that, lips glistening as he tries to concentrate again, her lipstick smeared on the corners of his lips when he nods his head.

“Yes—”

“I’m sorry, I probably ruined the mood.” Apologizing is what she does, fixing her sleeve that had gone down her shoulder when Minhyuk presses a soft kiss to her lips, though she continues to feel bad. “I haven’t done it in a while and I don’t really want to rush—”

“It’s only good and correct if both of us want it,” Minhyuk whispers, ruffling her hair with his free hand. “Don’t apologize for that. It’s normal.”

So much enchantment could fill her chest and it feels like it hurts from the adoration she feels towards him at that moment. “T-The kiss was good, though. I loved the kiss.”

Minhyuk actually cackles, nodding his head before giving one of his infamous smiles. “Yeah, I—Okay, yes, the kiss was great. Sorry it was so sudden.”

“I was waiting for you to do that, hush.” She says, feeling their interlocked fingers let go softly, earning a smile from him.

“I’ll be off, then. You have to work tomorrow. Thank you for the night.” And he doesn’t judge her, the reason why she considers him an angel—whom she has always wanted to have, as he gets inside his car and doesn’t forget to honk just as she is waving towards him.

Whenever he comes back, he makes her feel as if all she can breathe in is happiness.

###

“You mean to tell me there is a book,” Minhyuk says, only after plopping down another snack in between his lips. “A book in this town that talks gossip about everyone and I haven’t gotten my hands around it?”

She is making sure the latest costume she has tried to fix is looking great just before she answers him. “Yes, but no one ever looks at it. I mean…we’re all written on it at least once, but I don’t engage myself too much on it. It’s bad for everyone’s mental health.”

Minhyuk jumps on his seat, a long whine leaving his lips. “I want to see it—!”

“Minhyuk, come on, I’m doing it for your health!”

“I’m a tough guy, I’m sure I can read some comments about myself!”

To have the notebook lent to her was not the most difficult of tasks—after all, she is someone the entire town trusts, enough for her to be left only a few days after this conversation in the costume store, back pressed to Minhyuk’s chest as they share a seat, the old, brown notebook resting on her lap, almost burning her thighs as she feels every breath that leaves his chest echo through the place. Minhyuk thinks this is lightweight gossip, as if this town is not filled with people who love stories—the drama, the twisted endings, the laid off details to leave nothing to the imagination. This notebook, a headache when she had read a comment made about herself, is the nightmare of anyone dares read it and the glory who writes on it.

She plops one of the strawberries they are sharing inside his mouth, watching the juicy treat be bitten by him before he speaks again. “I know you’re trying to distract me by looking at me with the cutest face, but trust me when I tell you I’m strong enough to read some old ass book.” He tells her, reaching over her lap and opening the pages. Eye to eye, she realizes then the importance of Minhyuk in her life for the past month—that pop of color that has come in this void town, the lightweight feeling that comes with him enough to drowsy her. Minhyuk is such a bright figure, a traveler to match her storytelling ways, it would be heartbreaking to see him wanting to leave this place for the obvious rumors that go around about him.

“I just don’t want you to be sulky,” She says, resting the back of her head in his shoulder as she hears the sound of Rocco snoring somewhere in the store. “These are pretty tough.”

“Tell me what was said about you.” And his hands expand over her arms, enough to take her breath away. Why is it that every time she is around him, she can’t help but feel like he may just be the end of her romantic life? He feels the necessity of a dot, the ending, the reason as to why she would never look at anyone else the same. Perhaps, she’s attached—she only knows the version he is now and not the man that had wandered around the world, being a chameleon just like he said in one of their first few meetings. “…So, I can complain because you’re an absolute angel.”

She chuckles at that, playing with the first page of the book, hundred of more welcoming them with different handwriting. “It should be somewhere in here. It said that I had something along the lines of a hero complex. I wanted to be the center of attention…save everyone…you know the drill.” She replies, no longer hurt for those words, mainly because she knows that is just part of her personality. She cares for people, wants them to be their happiest, what’s the sin in that? “I haven’t thrashed this book because the younger generation are attached to it. I think it’s malicious.”

Minhyuk ruffles through the pages until he lands on the last ones, looking through the names written at the beginning of the sentences. “Lee Minhyuk…Lee Minhyuk…”

“Hey, I mean it. This is nothing more than gossip.”

“I know, I just want to know what people say about me!” A brief ‘aha!’ left his lips when he finds his name written in cursive, reading over it in a loud voice, typical of him. “Minhyuk is clearly an irresponsible guy. I can’t imagine what he’s running away from.” Minhyuk chuckles lowly, tapping his finger against the end of the sentence even when she feels her heart palpitating too fast. “Question mark, is he part of some gang, question mark.” He reads out, making her grasp his finger in between her hands.

“This is not—”

“Lee Minhyuk is obviously using the town’s storyteller for a thrill.” Minhyuk continues reading, her heart starting to pump too rapidly as she closes the notebook on a hassle, capturing his hand in between the two portions.

“Minhyuk, I don’t want you to read things that are not true.” She replies, though her mind can only as her if she knows if they are not true, indeed. She knows the man for a month, much less than she has known anyone else in this town, and the thought of him always pointing out how obsessed with travelling he is could only be a red sign. Maybe, he is really trying to run away from something—not a gang, but something he never wants to tell her.

A soft breath leaves his lips, now noticing how his gaze has darkened, placing the notebook down on the counter of the store before spreading his legs widely, leaning back on the seat with a hand pressed to his forehead. “Well, fuck, it’s quite ironic…but I didn’t know it was going to be this tough.” He chuckles a bit to himself, one hand splaying across her waist when she stands up to push the notebook away.

“I told you not to read it, Minhyuk.”

“It’s nothing, though—”

“No, it’s not nothing.” She finishes. “You shouldn’t be criticized for being more cultured than us in matters of travelling. It’s really not okay for people to ever treat you like this, and for us to be judged—”

Minhyuk puts a strawberry inside her mouth, making her roll her eyes when she bites down on it, only to see him smile. “We’ll talk about this some other time. Let’s just eat these strawberries, return that fucking notebook and forget it even existed.”

Perhaps, he really is running away, wanting to fade to black, needing to be breathed out like a memory instead of a reality. Minhyuk is suddenly affected, trying to mask it with his usual jokes and his smile, not even sparing the owner of the notebook a glance when she delivers it. The toxicity of it all has her wondering who had made such assumptions and what did they see that she had not seen in him? Everyone thought he was some kind of demon, a man made to annoy and destroy, but what she feels for him goes past that. A feeling of needing nothing more than protecting him, as if she wants to make a home for him in this town—no, in herself, she needs him to stay.

But he has never stayed, she thinks, when she is opening the door to her home and his head is hidden on the crook of her neck, planting soft and sweet kisses to the juncture there. Minhyuk even has said it himself; he gets tired of places, events and people, sometimes he simply needs a change. Perhaps, he could find this type of…person, someone like her, in Bangkok or Rome, a waist to hold, a neck to kiss, a life to grace with his mere existence, a tongue that talks his ears out with how much she wants to tell him, but he goes around the subject when he tries to talk about himself. Not the Minhyuk in Paris, not the one in Prague, but the one that had decided that travelling was better than staying.

Even when they are in her room, watching TV, and he really tries not to have a silent moment—much like his personality—she wonders if this is permanent, if Minhyuk will stay or not. This has her pressing the side of her face to his shoulder while seated on the sofa, wanting to pull away but feeling so entranced in him. The only man that is unlike other, her dot, her ending, and yet so much like a beginning; she’d call him her first love had she not had one of those in the past, but this is the first time she feels fear of losing someone.

Losing is even stronger when it is a decision, not a movement of the game that is life.

So she breathes it into the air, insecure at its finest, something that had made her feel so miniscule when she had always thought of herself as big in this small town. “Minhyuk…” She whispers, earning a hum from him, looking at the reflection of him as he looks at the TV screen. “Are you ever going to leave?”

Minhyuk’s face hardens, looking over at her before quirking an eyebrow. “Oh, come on, is it because of that notebook—?”

“No, no, just a genuine question!” She excuses herself, only to hear him sighing as he runs his fingers through his hair. “I can be curious about you, you know?”

“I know you can—”

“Then, answer.” She pushes, knowing fully well that this puts him in a position that he dislikes. Yet, she can’t bring herself to think of anything more than Minhyuk leaving. It would hurt, so much that it would feel as though she is burning alive.

His hands take her face delicately, cupping her face just like in that first kiss they shared, before letting out a few words that she did not expect: “Baby, I won’t ever leave you.”

The promise flutters on her chest, blooming inside her with hope, the one that comes out as a bit childishly when she voices out: “Is it a promise?”

“You can say so, yes.” Minhyuk says, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips, somewhat sleepy, like he wants to take all the stars and implant them in her heart for them to shine brightly. “It’s a promise.”

###

She knew her life before his arrival. Her place. Her time. Her dreams. They had always been low—what she sees is what she gets, only imagination suffices. And lord, that had changed exponentially.

But in its entirety, in the conceptualization of the verb know (in gerund: knowing), she doesn’t think she can live up to it. Minhyuk shows himself in a present matter, pretending he doesn’t know there is a part of him that hides—the one that is not always laughing, when he doesn’t know what to say, when he is sincerely a person more than pure entertainment. The thoughts roam through her head through every single date, none leading to seriousness, definitely leaving a bitter taste on her mouth. Talking to her two best friends about this is starting to get boring; they know how much she likes him and for that, they hype her up when she says she wants to continue down this path…but maybe, she needs wisdom. For one day, she wants to think with her head, not her heart.

The curtain that divides the store from the sewing room is pushed and she is welcomed by the sight of Miss Hwang seated in front of her sewing machine, wearing her thick glasses, concentrating with her face a little too close to her craft. She lets out a sigh that could have shaken the entire room if it could, moving over to where Miss Hwang is sewing at and kneeling in front of the device just to talk to her.

“Grandma…”

“Yes, darling?”

“Can I talk to you about something? I want some advice.”

Joyful laughter is the one that follows soon after, motherly, like everything Miss Hwang does. The woman doesn’t stop sewing, however, simply looking up at her with a glint behind her eyes before continuing with her craft. After all, she is working on the few commissions they get for pieces of clothing other than costumes. She shakes the fabric, gets back to working and places a piece of thread in between her lips. “I haven’t heard that since Heejung started dating her husband, Leo.” She tells her, voice filled with nostalgia for her mechanic daughter. “…But yes, yes, darling, I’m all ears. What is the matter?”

For a moment, she wants to say nothing is the matter. She is not like that, though, the type to hide what she feels—it is shown clearly by the way she looks at Minhyuk, after all. Why is that her thoughts are always filled with him, either way? Drowned in everything that she adores about him. “So…you know I’ve been seeing Minhyuk. Well, not seeing, but yes, we’re not officially dating…but like, everyone knows we’re practically something. Yes, that’s it, we’re something.” She rests her chin against her forearm, watching the needle pinch through the fabric as it glides across it harshly. “…But, he has always spoken about how he is obsessed with travelling and he never stays anywhere for too long and this scares me.”

Miss Hwang stops sewing, then, looking at her and lowering her glasses to say: “Okay, go on.”

She stands up, a jumpy movement in her steps as she continues speaking. “And it has me anxious, grandma! It’s not only that he could leave, that’s something I worry about on its own, but I get mad because I don’t know the root of this. Every story has its beginning, what made him so eager to run away?!” She asks, noticing the edge of her voice when she widens her eyes like a madwoman.

The patience in Miss Hwang is impeccable, blinking softly at the woman’s antics before humming. “Then, investigate.”

“What?”

“Ask him about it. Don’t go around the subject,” Miss Hwang says, going back to her sewing just in time to click her tongue repeatedly, almost condescendingly. “This is unlike you. You’re always curious, yes, but you always investigate, as well. So, do so.”

She bites down on her bottom lip. “I don’t want to pressure him into telling me something he doesn’t want to, though…”

“Then, he can give you a reason as to why he doesn’t want to talk about it.” Miss Hwang complies. “Communication, honey, that’s all that there needs to be. You guys talk too much, but you don’t communicate.”

“Huh…” That day, she learned the difference between talking and communicating, one void, one filled with everything that there needs to be done to maintain any kind of relationship. To remember someone’s birthday is not important if you never know the depth of the celebration, their least favorite one, if you never see them struggling to keep a smile on their face as people sing them in their day. That is only one of the main examples of a bond, one so profound and deep that it runs through her, the one she feels like she has with Minhyuk but needs to be fixed. “I’m going to help you out instead of just talking about Minhyuk all the time.” She says, dragging her seat closer and helping out with cutting the fabrics and sewing the smallest pieces, not excellent at it, but always making up for her enthusiasm.

After all, that is her trademark…what makes her, well, her. In poverty, in love with art, able to do something that would never have an outcome just because it makes her happy. Sadness is not for her, it has never fitted her—not like a costume, not like a lifestyle. It is then that she opts to dress up the slightest bit to go to Jessica’s bar, always breathless when she enters such place only to be engulfed by the water aesthetic, reminiscent of exactly what is lacking in her hometown.

Most of the time, the bar is not filled with poets—and yes, she continues to read the poems of the barely known Nunu, anonymous poet—, but most of the time it has someone singing, most likely the local band, and that’s the case for that night. Though with the movement of her legs, she greets a few people, as normally, moving towards the bar to see Minhyuk leaning on the counter, talking to one of the members of their little society, completely interested in the conversation, as always. He gives it his all to keep it alive.

Just like she wants to give her all to keep him there.

Troublesome, some had called him around town, from what she has heard directly told to her face when the subject of Minhyuk comes up. He is the type of personality no one wants to unfold—they believe that what he shows, youthful and annoying, is all there is to him. She doesn’t. Talking to him has been an eye-opening experience, so much that when he lifts his gaze and smiles at her, she can’t bring herself to believe that Minhyuk is a heartbreaker. The one that gets off on the thought of building a personality, having people fall for it and then, leaving. He says so himself, he can’t even finish something that he begins…but she holds onto hope.

She realizes just how much of him is around her now, in the bracelet that weights on her wrist, on the pictures she has in her room and the ones they have taken together, his habit of writing the day and month behind them once they are revealed just his own way of portraying his existence in her life. The closer she gets, she realizes she doesn’t even have to look at him to remember his features, the marks under his eyes, the protruding bottom lip, the moles around his face, though barely there.

“Minhyuk, hi.” She breathes out, sending a wave to the person he was talking to and earning a drunken nod in response. Minhyuk leans over the counter, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips like he is not embarrassed—boisterous, exhibitionistic in some way, he tends to be…or maybe, really honest with what he feels currently.

“What are you doing here?” He says after saying a greeting, hands already looking for a beer and taking the lid off for her. She takes the cold bottle in between her fingers, not paying attention to the burning sensation against her fingertips, taking a brief swing of the drink, the fuzzy feeling on the pit of her stomach…probably from the drink, but also from her nervousness.

“I wanted to talk to you.” Pushing her weight forward, her elbows resting on the counter as half her body is pressed down on the chair she is seated at, she looks into his eyes before quirking an eyebrow. “Is that okay? I know it’s probably an odd time, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t talk about this with you—”

Minhyuk’s lips quirk up in a smile, his hand extending to rest over hers. Weight, gravity, everything with him has been so natural…so meant to happen, that it would be impossible for it to just become invisible in the blink of an eye. “Hey, hey, there. What’s so wrong? Is there anything going on in that sweet head of yours?”

With shaky lips and another swing of the beer, she stops thinking about pleasing everyone—about only being of everyone’s liking, and with soft spoken thoughts, she clears her throat. “I’m just so…curious as to why you don’t ever tell me anything about your past.”

Minhyuk rolls the sleeves of his blue button down, matched with black pants that hug his slim hips slightly. “…Oh, come on.” He says, prideful and confident in the way his chest puffs out. “It’s not like I haven’t told you anything. I told you everything—”

“You barely tell me anything about your past…or why you like travelling so much.” She says, plopping the drink down on the counter and looking around in case everyone is listening to them. They are probably pretending to be ignoring them, but this conversation would probably end in the gossip around town. “The biggest part of your life, the most important thing for you and I know nothing about it. Does it seem fair that I barely know anything about you when you know everything about me?”

The man in question goes around the counter, taking her by the wrist and dragging her towards the hallway that leads up to the bathrooms. “Let’s not have this conversation in public.” The annoyance in her voice is what keeps her rambling.

“What even has you so embarrassed? It’s always like this, you find an excuse and never tell me anything—”

Once in the hallway, Minhyuk turns around, shrugging his slim shoulders when he says: “I don’t know. I have never done shit like this. I barely even stay for this long, okay? Just get me here—!”

She stops drinking from her beer, resting it down on the floor before sighing. “How can I even get you when you don’t tell me anything, Minhyuk? I need to know where this running away thing started.”

“It’s not running away.”

“It is! Moving around from country to country is not even normal!” She explains, hands bound to her waist when she sees him rolling her eyes. “And how do you even find the money?”

Minhyuk’s eyes widen at that, running his hands through his bleached hair and gripping at the strands. “Oh my God, don’t tell me you’re hinting at that stupid rumor of me being a gang member or something.”

Petty, tired, perhaps acting up in whatever feelings of love she holds for him, stopped by the reality that he barely shows a glimpse of who he used to be, she wants to get to know the raw version of him and if this is the way… “I don’t know, you tell me!”

Minhyuk rests the weight of his back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling almost as if making a prayer, he crosses his arms over his chest. “I can’t believe I am doing this…” He breathes out and before she could speak, he starts speaking. The way he holds himself is not a stance of giving up, it’s one of fighting back harder, against whatever it is that it bothers him, perhaps. “You know, not all of us had a good little community to talk to. Not all of us were friends with everyone. Some of us had pretty rough childhoods, for example, or we never found a place to call home…you want to know why? My parents were always working when I was growing up. Is that what you wanted to hear?” The defenses are up now, though his voice only heightens slightly, the sound of music in the background drowning their conversation. “Day and night. Day and night. I would get up at five in the morning just to get to eat with them…and sure, they did it for my favor and I am thankful, but I wasn’t truly…at home when all I was…was alone.” He replies, finally getting off from that stupid wall and nearing her, because all she wants to do is cradle him in her arms and tell him that all her love is his, that if she is there, he will never have to be alone. “Every penny I got from them, I saved. I had enough to travel and I said from then on: hey, I like travelling, and I have always been alone, it’s not that difficult. I’d much rather be alone in an exotic place than just have to think that my own home is not even mine to start with.”

“Minhyuk—”

“Excuse me for having a running away complex. I just work for some bit in the place I am in and then I move on to another. I want to live my life without thinking of the reason behind my actions. Not all of us have a story they want to tell, you get me?”

“Sorry for asking…” The empath in her speaks, reaching forward for him when Minhyuk simply stays in place, not caressing her like he normally does. “I just never want you to run away from me…you’ve been—”

“I’ve been here far longer than I’ve been anywhere else for the past eight years, that should be enough.” He complains, only to have her wrapping her arms around him, resting a kiss on his collarbone, then his neck, his cheeks, wanting to feel like he is at home.

“Because you’ll always have a home in me…” She whispers, only to have him chuckling. Uncomfortable.

“Don’t say that stuff like that, don’t…say stuff like that. Please.”

“I mean it.”

Minhyuk finally wraps his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before finally, for the first time since they’ve met each other, talking seriously. “I know…” Knowing another part of him and loving it just the same just voices out, to herself, what she already knows. She adores, no, loves this man. So much that she doesn’t even believe that rapidness of her heart or the bad that people see in the good that is him. “Just, I told you, don’t talk about this again, okay? I travel because I just do.”

“It’s our little secret.”

Somewhere she had heard that if nightmares are spoken into the air, then they never come true. She’d rather keep this promise of him staying there in between the two, silent, so she can hope for a future…for a happy ending, one where she doesn’t feel the knot in her throat that tells her.

He’s running away.

He’s running away.

From you. From everyone.

###

Sometimes, people forget to turn off the lights. She’s home, feet tired, mind vacant, eyes sleepy—but she needs to stay awake. She craves for that television device that blinks at her…it tells her ‘just another episode’, and she lets it. Before she knows it, she has pushed all the important things of life away, falling asleep to the light flicked on. An exchange for sunshine, it had become, because she imagines it shines just as bright…it does the trick. Sometimes, someone is enough to bring that feeling to life—she’d rather have him as his light, illuminating her days with just his radiant presence, than turning off the light. Tuning them out, living up to that expectation that screams at her, just at anyone, that this is not forever.

She forgot, or forgets, that lightbulbs are not meant to last forever. Even the Sun is not meant to live forever, some say. One day, when she least expects it, the lightbulb will flicker and turn off. She can try to fix it, nothing bad could happen with that, and it’s something people do…but it will never work the same amount of time that it did. It won’t shine as brightly, just leave a dim glow over her skin, but she’d feel it—that companion and brightness she has grown to love. Once it stops working again, she’d try to fix it…

She has a problem with letting go, as it seems. No one has ever left her—her breakups caused by herself, and still, she gets to see her exes on a daily basis, most of the time.

But the problem is, eventually, there will be another source of light and holding on to one lightbulb, generally asking it to illuminate her forever…that’s something she has never done, for she is not selfish, and there she is, doing just what she had never imagined.

Five months. Five months of being here and Minhyuk already looks drained. She wants to make him feel better, seated on his usual spot across from her at her typical diner table—that seat is filled with children, seated by his side, the youngest one (Emily’s son) seated on his lap as Minhyuk really tries to be in his zone, to be playful and talkative, but something is stopping him. Indifferent, he is, to the sound of her voice telling another story, to the children that ask him for opinions only to get a brief joke, not even receiving his usual laughter.

And still, they don’t have a title. She likes to believe he is truly her first love, in the way he sits there and fixes the curls on the five-year-old’s head, making sure that they are put in place before Emily loses her head on the fact that her son can’t keep a hairstyle for the life of him; that, he is, her first love that isn’t really the first.

To capture his attention, she pushes her weight forward, letting out a sigh through her lips in this Sunday midday, puffing them out before speaking into the thin air. “Actually, I have one more story for today.” She says, not missing the way the children perk up at the sound of her voice, nodding their heads and speaking between themselves to hurry her in the story. “Did you know that…five centuries ago? There used to be a couple in this same town. Well, not a couple—lovers.” She points out, only to have Minhyuk staring up at her, a tight-lipped smile given when she connects gazes with him. “You see, the man was a sailor. He had gone around the world…all through waters, of course. Until he landed nearby, walked and walked until he got here. This was different from anything he had seen. No water, no lakes. No sea.” The sound of her voice goes directly to Minhyuk, as if to convince him that this story is about him. The man’s face is touched by a smile, thankfully. “One of our townies, a woman, tried to help him get back home…but he didn’t have a home.”

Emily’s son is the first one to gasp at that. “How so?”

“The world was his home. Everywhere and anywhere. He liked to have different homes.” She explains, leaning forward to pinch the youngest’s cheeks. All that naivety was heart-warming.

One of her listeners asked. “So, what did the woman do?”

“In light of this man—tall, skinny, almost like Minhyuk right there,” She says, extending one hand to point at her example only to have him posing slightly to her words, earning laughter from the students. “Not finding a home. The townie tried to make a home out of the people here, out of this place.”

“And did he stay?”

“He did,” She replies, watching Minhyuk’s smile fall as she gives him a weak one. “He stayed. He found a home where he least expected it. The sailor no longer sailed after that, at least, not alone.”

But what is the magic of believing that the light will always stay turned on? How can she invent this sailor inside her head, running in imagination, when the first thing she sees in Minhyuk’s apartment once they enter is that wall that he has covered with a map? She gets closer, the shuffling of fabrics being heard in the background as Minhyuk takes off his denim jacket, and she takes the time to look at the map. New spots are not surrounded by red circles, indicators that they have probably caught his interest and in lack of X’s, she recalls that he may have not visited them on the first place.

The reason why they are there is because Minhyuk wanted for them to spend some time together, perhaps in tranquility, in the silence that basks them on the unspoken. The truth that falls on the fact that even Minhyuk doesn’t know if he’ll stay a long time, if he is just at the verge of needing to leave—a necessity, will she ever be powerful enough to battle such thing?

It takes her a few strides to get where he is, taking his face in between her hands and kissing him with fervor, like he wants to take every question away from his brain, feeling his lips jotting against hers almost immediately. A soft breath leaves her lips because nothing will ever quite compare to how it feels to kiss someone she actually loves, but she can’t have. His hands always rest on the small of her back, dipping her weight forward until their chests are pressed together, caressing his soft skin when her fingertips go up towards his hair, catching it in a soft grip, moving a few steps back and instructing him to follow her when she continues to kiss him…like everything is going to be okay, and there is an ‘everything’ to start with.

His jaw goes down slightly, panting breaths leaving his lips when she throws herself on his bed, hair highlighting her features, almost like an angel when she smiles at him. Minhyuk’s fingers glide across her arms when he kisses her again, soon after extending his palm on top of her abdomen and she feels like he controls her breathing, has done so from the moment she met him, letting his mind go off towards the unknown when he kisses her more deeply, the sound of her lips joining together contrasting the dull sound of his empty apartment.

Something about the weight of his body, his legs that rest in between hers, the feeling of his long fingertips toying with the edge of her shirt makes her feel like she has burned herself finding a source of light, and she can’t return this adoration—this love she feels for the man. Can’t give it back for anyone else to feel other than herself. Minhyuk’s soft lips go down her lips, her jaw, her hands working on taking off his shirt and tossing it on the side of the room, inspecting his body, going up and up until she rests her gaze on his, letting out a little giggle when she wraps her arms around his waist, resting fleeting kisses on his collarbones before speaking up:

“Let’s—”

Minhyuk’s hands, that had been resting on her thighs and almost cry at the mere sound of his voice, leave her body when he utters out a small: “I can’t.” That voice of his is so tiny that it doesn’t sound like him and the way he closes his eyes has her confused, already having taken off her shirt when he said those words.

“…You can’t?”

“I don’t—It’s not that I don’t want you, because yes, you’re gorgeous and I’m so…I think you’re spectacular and I like you more than I could ever voice out, but…I can’t do it.” For the first time, Minhyuk is out of words. She reaches for her shirt, putting it up her body in a hassle before looking at him in worry, seeing him standing up and walking from one end to the other.

“Minhyuk, hey, I didn’t mean to make you feel pressured. I just—”

“You didn’t,” He whispers, stopping in his tracks before looking at her. “I just need you to kiss me, okay? Let’s not talk tonight, I need you to kiss me and we’ll think about what to say later.”

She never imagined there would be the day where she kissed a fragile Minhyuk, one that barely seemed like a shell of himself when his lips pressed to hers softly. Hi brightness had dulled…and maybe, it was because of her.

###

“Jessica!” Her footsteps are quick, running through the streets with her phone tightly pressed to her hand, possibly continuing to call Minhyuk endlessly. Her heart-rate must have gone incredibly high, to the point she can hear the beats of it inside her ears, boiling hot, her head done so much of a mess that she feels dizzy. No amount of oxygen could ever make her feel like she has been breathing in enough, and when she finds her voice screaming again, she is surprised at the roughness of it. “Jessi! Jessica, please stop!”

The woman in question halters her steps in front of her bar, looking behind her before widening her eyes in surprise. Never had she been so unpoised, so messy with the way she spoke, bringing worry to the older woman’s features quite immediately. “Hey, breathe. What is going on—?”

“Where is Minhyuk?”

You see, waking up one day and not getting a text from him is one thing. That had happened, and he had probably fallen asleep. Calling him and not getting a response is also something that could happen to anyone, but when she didn’t see him for the rest of the day, the other day, the day after that…she started to get worried. So much she went to his apartment, running just like how she was doing right at this moment, and knocking his door so incessantly the landlord had to help her get in. Vacant, empty, not even his map is there anymore, not even a note or a box or anything that could tell her where he is.

It hasn’t downed on her, knowing that Minhyuk could have left. Maybe, he had to do something. Perhaps, he wanted to move out to a house instead of that small apartment, but the only person that could give her answers is the one that employed him.

Jessica’s features soften at that, swallowing thickly just at the mere sight of her and she swears she can see tears forming at the corner of her eyes, had they been placed there beforehand? She can’t recall. Her hands are resting against her chests, nails clinging into the fabric of her shirt in hopes of stopping the itching ache there.

“Where is he…?” She speaks softer, moving her legs quickly and feeling her breathing start to pick up. Her eyes can’t concentrate anywhere, looking for answers somewhere when Jessica sighs deeply.

“He quitted a few days ago. I didn’t know he was going to leave; he just left a box with me and I never checked it. He said to look for the name on top of it.” Jessica replies quickly, taking her warm hands in her palm to drag her inside the closed bar. Once inside, the aquarium-like place suddenly reminding her of the existence of Minhyuk, how he used to talk to people behind that counter and enjoy every moment of it…she feels her resolve breaking, letting out deep breaths from her lips to calm herself down. “I mean it, just breathe. I am sure he wouldn’t want you to pass out or die because of this. There must be—”

“A motherfucking reason? That he wanted to leave me since the moment he saw me, that’s that!” She exclaims, seated in front of the counter as Jessica rummages through Minhyuk’s workplace.

“No, honey, he really cared for you—”

“Then, why did he leave?”

“…I don’t know.” Jessica hisses softly, placing a wooden box in front of her before pointing at the small paper taped to the top of the lid. “But this is for you.”

No one prepares anyone for being abandoned, ghosted, much more when it’s out of the blue—as if nothing had ever mattered, and sometimes she blames herself for holding on to the collectives she has of him. In days after his departure, even the same night she had gotten that box, she had worn his hat over her head and she had been unable to take off that bracelet that showed all the places he had been to, a pendant with the flag of her hometown suddenly there. It feels as though her heart is broken in half, calling out for him, wondering why he had never accepted the home she had made just for him…in her arms, for him to stay and never feel like he is alone.

Some battles need to be fought alone, Miss Hwang says to her as she is crying on her lap, three days after Minhyuk’s abandonment and still feeling like the wound is even more open. Sometimes, she feels like she can’t breathe—like the devil has stolen her soul in the form of an angel, as if a part of her always knew that he was going to take her happiness away, own it and make it his before leaving with it. The other part of her wonders if Minhyuk felt bad the last night they met, the reason why he wanted to kiss her endlessly but couldn’t have the only thing they hadn’t shared—as if he didn’t want to promise to give all of him, when he really couldn’t play with her feelings entirely.

Salvaging him, even when he had done the worst thing he could have done in their situation, is something that she can’t find herself doing. Hands rest on her head, licks from the dogs making her feel more at ease the more sobs that leave her lips, unable to be stopped even days after, but at least she is not crying alone…like how she feels right now, even when she had not felt that way in the entirety of her life.

Something inside her tells her that she’ll get over this, but that she’ll never get back the part of her that had fallen for him.

The lights had turned down, just in time for Miss Hwang to tell her to check that box—see his side of the story, even against what Liz and Emily had said about him being an asshole. A shaky breath leaves her lips, pushing her weight off Miss Hwang’s body to tap the lid of the wooden box, reading the handwriting that represents her name before opening it softly.

A downpour falls upon her, watching the pictures they had taken, all revealed and faded into nothingness, showing the details of his hands on her waist, his lips on her cheek, her arms wrapped around him, smiles on their faces. Love. Love. Love. She always thought it had been love in between them…but maybe, she had thought wrong and watching him, that bleached blonde hair that he took so much care of, that smile that made him look like there was always something up in his brain, something to do…

The last picture is the one that takes her off guard, one of her that she had never actually seen, seated by her usual table on a Sunday, the diner is clearly seen in the background and it is not the most beautiful of pictures—she is talking, mouth open, but when she turns it around, expecting the paper to have the day and month it was taken in, she sees something else. Not quite the paragraph, really, Minhyuk has always been an endless talker…but when it comes to serious matters, he comes short. He doesn’t believe in romanticism, maybe.

“Forgive me, I really tried. I love you, be happy. You’ll always be my home.”

But how could she believe in the existence of their love when he had left? She asks, wanting nothing more than to rip the picture to shreds and forget about him, but for some reason, she presses it to her chest, wanting to capture the person she used to be and mixing it with this endless love she feels for Minhyuk. Someone who had never truly known how to stay home, how to stay even through the dullness of their reality.

…Someone who wanted to fade, but would never be invisible to her. Not when she met the real version of him.

And hopefully, she’ll always be his home.

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Limerence [M] ︳19

Pairing: Zuko x OC

Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with future smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.

Rating: SFW

Words: 5200+

Notes: A bit of a sad chapter, but I promise it gets better loves <3 I remember writing this, and not at all intending it to be as angst as it turned out (I hate writing sad things, it hurts my heart~). Well enjoy everyone, thanks for the support and love <3

Masterlist ︳18 ︳ 20

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

 Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person.

The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.

Fanaa

(Hindi/n.) Destruction of the self; “destroyed in love.”

~ Ying Yue Jiang ~

            The green sails bobbed up and down with the current, the sounds of chatter and laughter seemingly being carried with the wind into our bedroom. It was quite gloomy, despite all of the ruckus, the first time since I have arrived that the sunlight wasn’t shining through the clouds. The gray sky swirled above, the air smelt dewy, signalling for rain in a few more moments. But despite the dark atmosphere, I bore a curious smile, since for one; I was quite a fan of rain, but also in anticipation.

            Lia draped my silk robe over my shoulder’s from behind, startling me slightly, “Ah- thank you.” I said faintly, my gaze consumed with what I saw from the window. I already knew Lia rolled her eyes as I tried to tie my robe around my waist without looking down – I can’t see them at all.

            “For spirit’s sakes Ying Yue- here.” Lia grumbled as she tied the sash around my waist, “I swear if I left you, I would come back to you still standing here with your mouth to the floor in your damn lingerie.”

            “Sorry, I’m just curious.” I said with an apologetic smile, but despite her crossed arms, she still bore a smile, “I know; hence the tight leash Fire Lord Zuko keeps on you.”

            “I’m not some puppy…” I grumbled under my breath, but Lia just grinned.

            “Well, he didn’t say you were a puppy.”

            “Then what did he call me?”

            Lia opened her mouth slightly, before placing her finger upon her lips, “Puppy sounds nicer. Let’s just go with that.”

            “What’s that suppose to mean!?” I huffed as Lia laughed away, rummaging through my wardrobe. “You’re really going to ask me what Fire Lord Zuko thinks about you?” Lia scoffed, picking out potential dresses for me to wear, all of them made from the finest silks and decorated to the spirits. It was my turn to be left speechless; she had a point. I just snickered to myself once more before gazing back to the window.

            The Earth King and his brother-in-law, who has been nicknamed as ‘the asshole’ – courtesy of Zuko and Sokka, had arrived. I was eager to meet them, greet them once they finally docked. But Zuko made me promise one thing, and that was to not travel down with him to the docks. In all fairness, I wasn’t too upset at his decision, mainly because as great as I felt, I also knew that I was still a bit too fragile to travel to the pier and back and have enough energy for tonight’s dinner party.

            So instead, I found myself helplessly scanning the grounds from my window, in hopes of finding them. I could hear Lia groaning to herself as she watched me stand guard at the window, “They just got here not even an hour ago, they could still be making their way up the palace.” Lia spoke logically, and I couldn’t help but smile sadly knowing she had a point. Gosh, I missed them – their dirty jokes, their loud laughs, even the teasing!

            “Princess is sleeping with Zuko now?”

            “Ouu, do you think they’re doing the dirty tango?”  

            My eyes widen, their voices loud and clear. It’s them – and really, ‘dirty tango?’ I swiftly turned on my heel at the sound of their voices, the bedroom door flung open with a loud bang against the wall, “OHHH PRINCESS~!” they sang in unison. Never did I think I would be as thrilled as I am now to hear my awful nickname – a first for everything I guess.

            My eyes lit up, and I couldn’t stop the enthusiastic gasp that escaped me as I ran forward, “TOPH-SUKI!” I cheered. Right away my arms wrapped around their necks as I pulled them in tightly, Toph groaning in annoyance while Suki just giggled and snuggled back. “I missed you guys so much!” I blubbered happily as I nuzzled my face into their necks; so much to tell them!

            Toph snickered, but I could feel her pat my back and for a brief second, hug me back. “You look so good, Yue! It seems like Zuko has been taking pretty good care of you for us!” Suki gushed as we pulled away, her hands squeezing my cheeks with admiration. I grinned sheepishly at her compliment, but just as I was about to speak, Suki placed her hand over my mouth. “Before anything - we have a surprise.” My eyes widen, confused, but Toph just knocked on the closed door behind them, “You can come in now.”

            My eyebrows furrowed together, Suki letting her hand drop from my face, and the door opened. My heart fluttered, and my eyes teared up seeing who opened the door. Her hair decorated with her signature braids and her crystal blue eyes looking at me with pure happiness. There’s no way; she is supposed to be back at home – how…

            “Kima?” I whispered.

            She smiled brightly, waving shyly, “That’s me. Here to stay.”

            I dashed forward, engulfing her in the biggest hug of the century. It’s Kima; she’s here, oh my gosh she’s here. Kima laughed, hugging me back just as tightly, “I missed you so much.” I sniffled into her arms as she patted my head, “I know my Lady. You can thank Fire Lord Zuko.”

            “What?” I gasped, pulling away with a dumbfounded expression on my face. Kima smiled, wiping away my tears of happiness from my cheeks with her sleeves, gosh I missed Kima. I loved Lia, she was terrific, but Kima was Kima – someone no one could replace. “Before you left, Fire Lord Zuko asked if I would be willing to work for him as your maid, alongside Lia.”

            “The only catch was that she would have to come with us to the Earth Nation, so she would have enough time to pack and get things sorted since you two lovebirds left in a hurry.” Suki finished, a massive grin on her face as she watched my evident shock. Zuko did this; he knew how much I adored Kima. She was the first friend I made when the gang took me to the Southern Water Tribe – he knew.

            “B-but, the Southern Tribe, that’s your home. What about your family and friends-” Kima shook her head, “You’re my friend, and I’m pretty sure I can start a family wherever I go.”

            It was then I noticed Kima gazing over my shoulder, a soft smile on her face. I turned around, seeing she was gazing over at Lia, who bore a soft blush upon her face – I’m such an idiot. How did I not realize- “I guess we both found love huh?” I whispered, and Kima smiled bashfully, “I guess we did. There must be something in the Fire Nation water.” I laughed at Kima, shaking my head, not realizing how much I missed her voice, her touch, her jokes.  

            “Sorry to ruin the moment, but what’s that on your face Yue…” Suki whispered, reaching forward and tracing the long pink scar on my jaw. My eyes widen, they don’t know. Zuko, Sokka or Aang never told them yet. Kima frowned as well, poking at my face, inspecting me like a mother who noticed her child got injured. “Ying Yue tripped! You know how clumsy she is.” Lia said with nervous laughter, her hands tightly hugging my shoulders from behind. Thank goodness for Lia and her quick thinking.

            “Ha, you know me,” I said with a bright smile as I played with my fingers. Kima and Suki snickered, oblivious to the white lie Lia said, “My Lady, you really need to be careful.” Kima lectured, “You really did a number on yourself.” I smiled awkwardly, anxiously biting my lip, because, at the corner of my eye, I could see Toph. A frown on her face as she crossed her arms, Toph knew. Toph knew we were lying through our teeth, but she didn’t say a word. “I can tell you guys more about it later, just not now…” I said, and Toph nodded, understanding the double meaning in my words.

            As much as I wanted to tell them what happened, Lia and I knew it would be foolish. Right now our concern was with the Earth King and his safety; the last thing we should do is tell them about an incident that was written off as nothing more than a natural accident. Well, at least that was what Zuko had said to me - an accident. But I couldn’t shake off the uneasiness Zuko had when he said it, as if he didn’t believe his own words. I also couldn’t shake away the fact that I swore I saw someone at the top of the waterfall that day before the rocks came tumbling down – or maybe it was my mind playing tricks…

            “So you and Zuko are sleeping in the same room now?” Suki said with a raised brow, a giant grin on her face. I blushed realizing her words, suddenly pulling my robe closer to my body, “Uh, yeah. We’re sleeping together – but, uh, not like that.” I muttered as Toph and Suki snickered to themselves, “So you’re telling me. That you’re going around dressed like that, sleeping in the same bed, and nothing is going on under the sheets?” Suki spoke, the smirk on her face growing more and more.

            “Gosh Suki, not everything revolves around sex!” I stammered, but Kima giggled.

            “Don’t get me started on the damn hickies,” Lia muttered under her breath, and right away, the gateway of endless teasing was opened.

            “THE WHAT?!” Suki shrieked, and for once, Toph looked extremely interested in the conversation. “You’re a bug.” I grumbled towards Lia, but she just grinned, “Payback for all the trouble you put me through.” Kima sighed heavily, covering her face with her hands, “What did I willingly walk myself into?” Kima muttered under her breath. Lia laughed, wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

            “Tomorrow, we’re having a girls night. And you, Princess, are spilling all of the damn beans.” Suki spoke with crossed arms. I let out an exhausted sigh, knowing very well what a girl’s night entails; wine, a far then appropriate conversation about sex, and more wine. But deep down – I was looking forward to it, maybe I could ask them for some advice regarding ‘sexy time’...what’s the worst that could come from that?

            “Well, Imperial Consort Ying Yue, we have exactly one hour to get ready for the dinner party. So let’s get dressed, shall we?” Lia spoke, clapping her hands together. Kima grinned happily, “Can I do her makeup? It’s been such a long time-”

            “You do makeup; I do hair, I love playing with her hair – it’s so long.”

            I smiled watching them together; they were like two peas in a pot. Teamwork makes the dream work.

                        The sound of rain pattering lightly against the roof echoed in the hallway, calming my nerves as I fiddled with my necklace. Everyone was already inside of the grand hall, including the gang. Suki and Toph had to stand post as security with Sokka, while Aang was already inside chatting away - politics. The hallway was empty, as everyone who should be inside, was already inside, minus Zuko and me. I crossed my arms as I stared at the doors to the grand hall, breathing deeply.

            It was my first formal party as Imperial Consort - a big step for me, and my heart started beating erratically against my chest just thinking about it. I was beyond nervous, gosh Yue get it together. It’s one stupid dinner party – A warm hand on my lower back caught my attention, instantly my breath hitched hearing his husky voice in my ear, “You look delicious, how about we skip the dinner, I think I've found my meal right here.”

            My cheeks flushed, turning on my heel swiftly. My breath caught in my throat as I looked up at Zuko – a mischievous smirk playing along his pink lips as he towered over me.

            Damn.

            He looks good.

            I hadn’t seen him all day, now being the first, and maybe that was a good thing; given that my self-control was being tested to the max. His hair was pulled up into a sharp bun, keeping true to his prime and proper image he worked so hard on creating. Not a single hair out of place - slicked back to perfection. Zuko wore a mahogany coloured robe that clung to his body, a deep V neckline showing off his killer collarbones, and teased at the hidden muscles that were underneath. A sizeable overflowing cardigan that almost touched the floor loosely hung off his broad shoulders, decorated with golden dragons.

            Zuko's fingers danced along my face, his lips just hovering upon mine. His natural scent of firewood was overwhelming; butterflies were fluttering in my stomach as I found myself struggling to breathe. “Hi,” I whispered breathlessly, all too consumed with him. It hasn’t even been a full day, but I missed him. Gosh, I missed him. His touch, his warmth - I love him.

            Zuko chuckled lowly, devouring my lips with his own. We stood there without a single hint of concern, enjoying the way our lips danced together, a private dance that only we knew. He hummed pleasantly as I gasped. My eyes fluttered closed, my hands falling on his chest, just basking in his presence, the rush to join the party suddenly gone.

            “Hi, love.” He whispered, so low that I could’ve easily mistaken it as a groan. I smiled, pulling away, letting my finger teasingly touch the skin that was exposed. “I think I found my meal as well.” Zuko grinned, his hands trailing up and down my back, pulling me against him as he buried his face in the crook of my neck. Faint butterfly kisses was all I could feel, trailing up and down my throat with ease. My knees buckled, but I found myself tightly gripping his front the moment he nibbled my ear, “How about we skip the dinner, and go straight to dessert.” Zuko growled; a hint of desperation in his voice.

            I bit my lip, swallowing the moan that so desperately wanted to escape. Never, has Zuko been so upfront like this. So openly needy that it caught me off guard. “Z-Zuko, the Earth King - Kuei.” Zuko hissed, gripping me tightly as he pressed his forehead against mine, “Don’t ever mention another man’s name with me, especially like this.” I rolled my eyes, “He’s married.”

            “And you’re naïve to think that would stop a man. You haven’t played politics till you played with the Earth Nation.”

            “He cheated?” I gasped.

            “Not him, he’s probably the only good soul in the Earth Nation government. But for the rest of the Earth Nation royals…” I frowned, who would've thought, no wonder Zuko was so hesitant to have me come to this party. “We should get inside Zuko,” I spoke, clearly the only one with politics in mind. Zuko groaned miserably, placing another kiss upon my lips, “Can I change your mind?” he mumbled. I giggled, poking his chest, “Very unlike you mister Fire lord. Wanting to skip on your duties like this.” Zuko let out a sigh, shrugging his shoulders, “You owe me.” Zuko grumbled, pulling away and linking arms with me.

            “I owe you nothing; it’s your job.”

            “Way to throw me a bone.”

            “Like the damn leash you have on me?” I grumbled.

            Zuko smirked, his hand sneaking far past my hip, giving me a playful slap on my ass, “Well if that’s what you’re into, I have no problem tying you up.”  

            “Oh fuck you Zuko! You pervert!”

            “Fuck me indeed.”

            “ZUKO."

            "Has anyone ever told you that you're adorable when teased?"

            “Congratulations Fire Lord Zuko, Imperial Consort Ying Yue, I wish we could have sailed faster to celebrate such a joyful occasion.” Earth King Kuei spoke with a broad smile, his crown bobbing as he bowed down towards us. 

            Zuko beamed, taking a sip of his red wine, “Don’t fret, you’ll be the first to receive the wedding invitation.” I blushed at Zuko’s words, although I knew it was nothing more but political and friendly banter, a soundless promise, it still rattled me. If only Zuko knew how I felt about him, how much I wanted those words to be true. The Earth King chuckled to himself; his green eyes lit up with delight at the thought of a wedding while his green robes swayed with each chuckle of his. “Maybe you two could get married in the new Nation.” The King spoke casually, but it was then I knew, let the passive-aggressive decisions begin.

            I could feel Zuko’s arm stiffen from underneath me, yet his charming smile never wavered once. His golden eyes twinkling, he was in his zone. “It would be quite an idea, something we can ponder about after we sign the papers.”

            “Always on top of things Fire Lord Zuko –  wouldn’t expect anything less from the Fire Lord himself.” The King spoke, taking a small sip from his goblet. “Although we would have to deal with the rebels.” My eyebrows furrowed together, the who?

            Zuko sighed frustratingly, an understanding transpiring between them both. Clearly, these people are a lot more trouble than even I realize if Zuko is getting tense just thinking about them. “The rebels?” I blurted. Zuko looked down at me, seemingly forgetting I was even here to begin with. ��Ahh, a group of men and women who take pleasure in raiding villages and such.” Spoke the Earth King, shaking his head in regret.

            “They’ve taken thousands, from the wealthy and the poor,” Zuko grumbled.

            The Earth King shrugged his shoulders in defeat, seemingly as upset as Zuko, “And to think that it is all handled by one man – Yakone.”

            It was like a lightbulb in my head went off – Yakone. A name so familiar, yet nothing more but a story. Why was that name so familiar? Why does it seem like I’ve heard it before? “Ying Yue?” Zuko whispered in my ear, gently tapping my hand. My eyes widen, head snapping upwards as I realized that I had zoned out, “S-sorry. It’s just that the name, Yakone, it sounds so familiar.”

            The Earth King chuckled, “Not surprised; he’s infamous. Killed hundreds without any remorse, rumours say he’s a Bloodbender.” He's a what- In a snap, my body went rigid. A cold sweat overcame me - my palms felt clammy, the air felt heavy, and I knew my face went white.

            A Bloodbender, that’s impossible…

            “Sorry, I shouldn’t talk about such rumours as if they were the truth.” The Earth King said lightly, seeing the evident fear in my face. I forced a smile, struggling to find my voice, “I-I’m sorry, I’m just a bit parched. Please excuse me while I fetch a drink.” I untangled myself from Zuko’s arm and dashed, pushing through people in desperation.

            Despite the large room, I felt trapped. Suddenly people brushing up against me to get by sent my nerves on overdrive. Everything felt too much. My breath shortened as I struggled to stay focus, spots clouding my vision as my head pounded — a Bloodbender.

            A Bloodbender.

            A Bloodbender.

            How? I-I thought-

            “What is a beautiful lady like yourself doing all alone this evening?”

            My head snapped to my side, a hand softly grabbing mine. I flinched, not expecting such contact, an unexpected gasp escaping me. A tall man stood before me, long black hair tied back, loosely falling behind his shoulders. He was handsome; his skin sun-kissed. He bore a brilliant smile, his pearly white teeth gleaming towards me as he gently patted my hand, “Sorry to startle you; your beauty captured me.” His voice was low, yet it had a smoothness to it, not rough or husky like Zuko’s.

            “O-oh, no, sorry. I was in my own little world.” I stuttered, taken off guard by his presence. Wait, did he just call me beautiful? A blush erupted on my cheeks, Zuko was the first man to say I was beautiful. It felt weird having another man compliment me, oh well - just shut up and accept it I guess. The mysterious man chuckled, seemingly interested at me getting flustered. Gosh, his eyes are so green - “My name is Kayto and yours?”

            “Uh, Imperial Consort Ying Yue Jiang,” I said quickly, realizing that he still held my hand in his. His eyes widen in surprise, “Imperial Consort?” He repeated a hint of disbelief in his voice. I smiled and nodded, “Please take this as a compliment, but aren’t you a bit too young to be a consort? You’re so young, to think that some old man is going to bewed you.”

            My eyes widen realizing why he had said that - and to be fair; he was right to some degree. Such a title was given to older women or men, people later in their lives ready to get married and have kids within the next year or so. I laughed at the way Kayto’s face seemed pale at the thought of me marrying an old man, “I promise you; he isn’t old.” I said with a giggle. The idea of Zuko with grey hair and a small old age belly brought a smile to my face; I would love to get old with Zuko – retired and snuggling all day and night. I wonder if he will still be as grumpy as now?

            Kayto laughed; a sense of relief on his face, “Still, it’s a shame to know that you’re taken. You seem lovely.” I awkwardly looked at my feet, not used to such compliments. Is this what flirting is? “Ahh-uh, thank you.” I stammered out, biting my lip. Kayto chuckled, watching me fail miserably to get out this situation, but just as quick, Kayto’s eyes narrowed. Before I could realize, his soft hand was outstretched and gently traced my lower jaw, “He may be young, but he doesn’t take care of you.” He muttered, tracing the scar.

            I frowned, “It’s an old wound-”

            “I’m not a fool to injuries. It’s pink, soft, fresh. How could a man let such a flower like you get hurt?” He huffed. I opened my mouth to speak, but once again, I was at a lost of words. Did he just call me a flower? I like flowers - for fucks sakes Yue focus, this man is flirting with you! Leave! “If you were mine I wouldn’t let a single thing touch you.” He muttered, his hand gently falling from my face and brushing my hair back. I froze, “It was my fault, I was careless-”

            “I would love to meet the man whom you’re destined to wed. I have a feeling I could do much better.”

            “That wouldn’t be necessary-”

            “It’s me.”

            I could feel hot hands place themselves on my hips, pulling me into his chest with a thud that knocked the air out of me. I looked over my shoulder, seeing Zuko’s face, a sense of relief overcoming me - he saved me. But my gladness quickly disappeared. Zuko looked furious. His eyes narrowed, lips pressed thin, as the vein down his neck popped out in irritation. I could see the way he clenched his jaw, his golden eyes flickering in fury. He's mad, oh no- is he angry at me?

            “Fire Lord Zuko,” Kayto said quickly, bowing slightly.

            Zuko’s grip on my waist was tight, so tight that I could feel his fingers digging into my skin, I’m going to have bruises at this rate - “Long time no see, Kayto.” Zuko hissed, not bothering to sound happy at all. Kayto grinned, seemingly noticing the hatred in Zuko’s voice, “Aahh, Fire Lord Zuko, do you know Kayto? I just bumped into him, and we were just talking-” I awkwardly stammered out, but stopped when Zuko looked down at me, a mocking smile on his face, “Do you know who this man is?” Zuko snarled.

            “Uh, his name is Kayto…” I meekly spoke. Zuko smiled once again, but the smile on his face was far from genuine. It was so forced that it killed me to see, let alone have it directed towards me. He leaned into my ear, whispering so only I could hear, “He’s the Earth King’s brother-in-law.” For the second time this evening, I could feel my stomach in my throat. He was ‘the asshole’ that Zuko and Sokka talked about. Just my luck, the only man to speak to me during this whole party and it has to be him?

            “I’ll leave you two lovebirds be, and Imperial Consort Ying Yue-” I turned to face Kayto, forcing a smile on my face as I looked at him, “My offer is still on the table. I’ll never let a beauty such as yourself get defaced with a scar.”

            In an instant, I turned around, gripping Zuko’s gown in my hands, trying my best to prevent Zuko from lunging towards him. Kayto snickered as he walked away, laughing as he walked away unhurt as I struggled to keep Zuko in my grasp. Zuko was fuming right underneath my hands, breath heavy as he snarled. “Zuko! Relax; I didn’t know that was him!” I whispered harshly, trying hard not to attract a crowd.

            At the sound of my voice, Zuko looked down at me, pure disgust on his face, “Nice to know how you feel about scars. I guess I was just some pity case for you.” Zuko spat. My eyes widen, feeling Zuko back away from my touch - as if my grasp was venom, “W-what? Why would you think that?” I whispered, my voice cracking as Zuko stepped back, “Wouldn’t want a scar or else you’ll turn ugly. I get it; I heard it my whole fucking life. And to think, that you were the first person in my life to look past my scar - fuck am I stupid.”

            “Z-Zuko...” I whimpered, losing my voice as he swiftly turned on his heel and left me. My cry out to him just blended in with the rest of the chatter amongst us. My mouth felt dry, and my voice went as I watched his figure get smaller and smaller the faster he walked away. My eyes teared up as I clenched my fists - not now.

            Today was supposed to be magical, the first party Zuko and I attended to as a couple. But instead of happiness, I was standing with hundreds of people – alone. Zuko was nowhere in sight, probably just acting normal, being the amazing actor he was. Zuko was angry with me - he hated me. My chest felt like it was tightening as every breath hurt, a struggle. "Hey, Yue - you okay?" 

            I looked behind, Aang's brows pinched together as he reached forward, but I pulled away. "He hates me..." I whispered. Aang's eyes widen, "W-what are you talking-"

            "Aang...I love Zuko, and he-he…hates me."

            "You love Zuko?" Aang blurted, his eyes frantically bouncing around the room, looking for answers. "Yue, what happened?" Aang spoke sternly, pushing his glass of water to some waiter as he moved towards me. But I shook my head, pulling away once again, "I-I need to go. I'm fine - stay at the party. You have-you have things to do." 

            "Yue wait!" 

            I pushed my way through the crowds, leaving the party as I dashed to our bedroom. I can’t be there; I can’t.

            The guard's eyes widen seeing me and how flustered I appeared. I hastily pushed them aside, not bothering to greet them - too busy trying my hardest not to let my tears fall. I slammed the bedroom door shut; my shoulders slumped as I struggled to breathe.

            I just stood there, in the middle of the bedroom for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. So much had happened, so much and I didn’t know what to think. I could feel my legs weaken from underneath, my body tingling as I shook. Each step to the bed hurt, my eyes glazing over as Zuko’s words ran through my mind on repeat. A giant lump in my chest, a pressure that was just building and building the more I tried to breathe, to think.

            Something soft in my hands caught my attention, only then noticing that I had unknowingly grabbed the teddy bear Zuko gave me. The brown fur still warm from the nightly snuggles – Zuko’s warmth. My lip quivered.

            Take a deep breath Yue; everything is going to be – I cried.

            My knees curled up to my chest as I stuffed my face into the teddy, the poor creature soaking up all of my tears. “W-why doesn’t Zuko understand that I love him?” I cried, almost wishing that the bear would answer back. But instead, the teddy bear looked back at me expressionless. I held the teddy closer to my chest, my makeup running down my face as I crashed against the pillow.

            My body trembled as I cried, my throat sore and nose red.

            I love him.

            Every single thing about him.

            I didn’t care that he had a scar, that didn’t make me love him any less. With or without that scar, I loved Zuko. I shut my eyes as I wiped my nose with the sleeves of my dress, not caring at all that I was probably ruining the finest of silks. I looked at the bear, foolishly speaking to it as if it understood me, “I love him. But all I do is hurt him over and over again.” The teddy's soulless black beaded eyes stared at me, my reflection shining back.

            My hair was a mess, my cheeks stained, and I choked up once again, “I love- I love Zuko. Why didn’t I tell him right then and there? That I think he’s perfect?” I shut my eyes. I could hear the water hitting the window with a vengeance. The distant sound of thunder rumbling, the spirits way of saying they were upset about something.

            A pathetic whimper left my lips, exhaustion consuming me, I love you – why can’t you understand that?

Copyright © 2019 Mystic-Kitten, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind allowed. Thank you for your cooperation. 

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

[splendorten]

Trigger

Paring : Ten X Reader

Genre : Mafia! AU, Slight Fluff, Slight Angst

Warnings : Mention of; death, smoking, shooting, slightly suggestive content

Summary: Things went down after you had a bad day

Word Count: 2,189

-

You took a long draw from the cigarette that was wedged between your lips, the toxic gas drying out your throat as it traveled down into your lungs. You reveled in the bitterness of it before exhaling it back out and creating a screen of smoke, blurring your view of the different assortment of alcoholic drinks that lined the shelf of the bar. The booming music that emanated from the speakers reverberated deeply in your chest, chasing away any unwanted thoughts that previously ran through your mind. You were not one for such places, but today was an exception. You desperately needed an escape from the events that had happened throughout the course of the day. Lazily waving the bartender over, you requested a refill, hand gesturing towards the empty lowball cup that sat idle on the counter-top before lighting up your nth cigarette of the night. The anger you felt was still boiling and bubbling deep within the pit of your stomach, and no amount of liquor seem to be able to douse the raging fire inside. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong, went wrong.

The first thing you woke up to was a report from one of your men that a major rival group had destroyed and taken over part of your northern territory overnight, killing a few of your people in the process. Next, the 9.8 million arms deal was trashed when you found out that the other party had the audacity to sabotage the exchanged. They had planned to cause an ‘incident’ and run away with the arms without paying. A stupid decision on their part really, anyone and everyone knew not to mess with you or they’ll end up paying a heavy price. Now that foolish group is nothing more than a pile of ashes residing in one of the warehouses near the outskirts of the city. Just when you thought your day couldn’t get worse, you went back to your boyfriend’s office hoping to get a nice cold shower and a good cuddling session with him before meeting up with your own people to discuss the tragedy that occurred the night before. But instead of that, what you were greeted with was the sight of a barely clothed female trying to advance on your boyfriend. Keyword TRYING, but you were too messed up to even care about the situation that was unfolding in front of you, too tired too troubled. Instead of ripping the girl off him and introducing his face to your fist, you turned and left wordlessly. His explanation could wait till later, when you had calmed down enough to actually listen to his explanation. For now, you decided that it would be good if you got some alone time, and that’s how you found yourself drinking and smoking the night away in a club that had terribly remixed EDM music blasting way too loudly for your liking.

Your eyes lazily swept over the dance floor, watching a sea of intoxicated bodies grinding against each other, as you downed the contents in your cup before ordering yet another refill. You were definitely pass your limit but had no plans on stopping anytime soon. Inhale. Exhale. Drink. A cycle that you’ve been repeating for the past hour. You brought the cool glass to your lips, the gold to yellow liquid only managed to graze your lips slightly before a hand shot out from behind you, yanking the cup out of your hands and setting it down on the counter top. Turning around, you glared at whoever dared to disturb you, ready to pounce and kill the poor soul. Instead of seeing a sleazy drankard as you had expected, you found a pair of familiar dark brown orbs staring intently back at you. Emotions of anger, irritation and annoyance with a hint of worry swirled around in them. Ten. This didn’t come as a surprise, after all you did ignore his 27 calls and 50 over messages.

You rolled your eyes, scoffing, hand reaching out for the cup. Once again, it was robbed out of your possession, the culprit downing the contents before throwing it into the sink nearby, causing the glass to shatter, littering the area with tiny diamond like shards. Huffing in exasperation, you took another long draw at the cigarette, and blew the smoke onto the culprit’s face, polluting the air around him. You were well aware of his acute hatred for how petty and childish you got whenever you were trying to pick a fight with him, but nonetheless, you took pleasure in watching the crease on his forehead form as his eyebrows furrowed and jaw muscles twitch, clearly indicating his increasing frustration and thinning patience. Unprepared to face him and his wrath just yet, you swiftly turn your body such that he got a good view of your exposed back. He doesn’t appreciate your choice of wardrobe in his absence, the sight of your perfectly tanned golden skin getting him even more fired up, fueling the growing heat in both his chest and core. His tongue coming out to run along his dry lips as he drinks in the sight of you sitting there being all fiery and delicious. Oh how he wished you were back at the penthouse with him, he would make sure to have his way with you, and the only reason why he would be seeing your back was only if he took you from behind.

In a blink of an eye, he has you pressed flush against his firm chest. One hand snaked around your waist, burning down any escape plans you might have been formulating in your pretty little head, while the other tangled itself in your dark auburn locks. With a slight snap of his wrist, he tugged your head to the side, giving him more access to your delectable skin, his nose trailing a path of feather light touches from your neck down to the base of your shoulder. A shiver went down your spine when you felt his hot breath fan over your exposed skin, you hum in satisfaction and leaned into him. “Let’s go back” he mumbled in between the assault he was doing with those sinful lips. The word ‘back’ only brought you back to the scene where that pathetic woman ran her hands all over YOUR man, and he let her! Snapping out of your hazy trance, you turned around and roughly shoved him away from you, leaving him confused as you storm off towards the back exit.

You didn’t manage to get very far away, not even managing to get a meter away from the club before you felt your body being pushed up against the rough wall. Ten had both his arms planted firmly against the wall, effectively trapping you between the wall and his very distracting body. You looked everywhere and anywhere but his eyes, and it was only then that you realised he was wearing a white body hugging muscle tee under his usual black leather jacket paired with ripped denim jeans. It wasn’t necessarily a flashy outfit but it was one of your favorite. The muscle tee accentuated his chest muscles and lean stomach while the jacket gave him a vicious and dangerous vibe. His already disheveled ash purple hair ruffled messily in the wind, giving him a wild aura. You struggled in his hold as you tried to break free from his grasp, although he may not look like it, the man can actually easily take down 4 grown men on his own. In an attempt to stop you from moving around, he crashed his lips onto yours with so much force that it broke the skin of your lower lip. You could taste the metallic blood as both your tongues fought for dominance. You took this chance to shove him a good distance away from you, while he was lost in ecstasy, and drew your gun out pointing it straight at him. “Go away” you spat out, venom dripping from every word, you could feel your anger starting to rise once more. The heat you felt in your chest intensified with every passing second, the alcohol in your system and intoxicated state only amplifying your emotions and reckless actions.

Not only did Ten’s lack of fear and action not calm you down, it also fueled your next actions, without hesitation, you cock the safety pin of the gun and pulled the trigger. The bullet that was sent flying across barely missed his shoulder. Jumping back in shock, he let out a string of curses, both in shock and disbelief. After composing himself, he raised both hands up in front of him to show that he means no harm as he took tentative steps towards you. He knew that you were already tipsy with all that whiskey running through your bloodstream, which meant that if he didn’t deal with you soon, the consequences could be potentially deadly. He can only imagine the things that will happen if he doesn’t, especially with the chain of events that happened today. You tend to get a little crazy when drunk, one of the many reasons why he keeps the cupboard of liquor at home locked up.

“Princess, give me the gun. We can talk things out.”

Despite his soft and alluring voice, which usually calms you down, your grip on the gun tightened as he continued to make his way over to you. It was safe to say that jealousy wasn’t an emotion you felt often, at least not when it comes down to Ten being around other women, you trusted him and up till this point in time he hasn’t done anything to make you doubt or break that trust. So you blame the wretched news and fools for causing you to be extra sensitive today. “Oh now you wanna talk to me? Is that it? Why don’t you go talk to that woman that had her hands all over you.” Ten cock his head sideways trying to figure out what woman you were referring to, and then it hit him. “You saw?” His answer has you throwing your hands up in exasperation, is that the best response he could come up with?  You fold your arms across your chest, unintentionally accentuating your curves even more, trying to prove a point to Ten that you weren’t in the mood for his games. Ten cursed for the upteenth time tonight, the article of clothing that you wore, a black spaghetti strapped tank top with a low V-cut, wasn’t very revealing but it didn’t cover much either. He ran his fingers through his devilish hair, sighing at how dense you were despite being one of the most feared mafia leader of your time. You had no clue how much effect you had on him, a tease, and his ultimate distraction.

Your voice brought him back to his senses as you started to go on about how he could’ve just told you that he’s tired of you and wanted fresh meat. His sudden outburst of laughter resonated through the cold and chilly night, shaking his head, he took a step closer and pulled you into his warm embrace. “Princess, you must have impeccable timing to have only enter when that happened, you didn’t stay to watch the rest unfold?” You kept quiet, a signal for him to continue. “I waited to see how far she would go and immediately stopped her when she leaned in for a kiss. She’s new and still doesn’t know the ins and outs of things, but fret not, I’ve had her transfer over to our eastern branch. I promise you have nothing to worry about, these lips won’t ever touch anyone else but you.” A blush crept up your cheeks as you caught onto his hidden meaning in that last sentence.

Exhaustion slowly seeped into your bones, the earlier outburst had drained a fair amount of energy out of you. Ten released you from the hug and moved back just enough so that he could look into those captivating eyes of yours and get lost in them. The thought of replacing you never once crossed his mind. You were too wild too young too reckless, too much like him. How could he let go of the woman who accepted him despite his countless flaws and loved him unconditionally? The one who was broken and damaged but showed more kindness than his own folks ever did to him. Ironic, considering the line of job they were in, but everybody back at the office knew that you wouldn’t hesitate to put your life on the line for them even if they were Ten’s people and not yours.

“I love you…only you” he declared before kissing you once more, this time with more passion than force, more tongue than teeth. “Let’s go home so I can love you properly” Ten said in between kisses, and you hummed in response, as he lifted you up making his way back to the car.

This is going to be a long night.

[rosy-night-sky]

Of Treasure and Adventure

Genre: Treasure hunter/Indiana Jones AU

Pairing: Ot7 x reader

Summary: Your grandmother gave you a gift that she won in a game, so naturally you are curious as to the origins of it. A decision was then made that you should seek the answers to your questions. However, you never expected your decision to lead you on a treasure hunting quest.

Tag List: @sevenincubistolemyheart

Chapter 2

Boom. Boom. Boom. Your throbbing head was what brought you back to reality. At first, you had no idea what was happening or where you were. You originally thought that you were back in your temporary flat sleeping in your comfy bed, but your aching neck, back, and arse made you realize that you weren’t in a bed at all. Perhaps you fell asleep in a chair once you got back to your room?

A groan escaped your lips as you tried to move your arms into a more comfortable position. However, you soon realized that you couldn’t move your arms at all. You persisted and pulled at them again and again, but you noticed that something restricted your movement.

Your e/c eyes fluttered opened, your first sight being your wrists tied tightly to the armrests of the chair. Suddenly, your mind went into hyperdrive, recalling your last moments before you fell into unconsciousness. You met with Dr. Kim and his student, Jungkook, and then after that you met...

Hoseok...

You remembered his last words to you. “Sleep dreams, Y/n...”

That bastard! You gritted your teeth in anger and panic as you began to thrash around in the chair you were confined in. Once you got out of there, you were going to give that bastard the arse whipping of his life before reporting him to the British Royal Guard!

Unfortunately, your bindings were securely tied well, not giving you wrists much movement. The chair was wooden though, maybe you could break it somehow? It seemed to be old enough that with a few abuses it could fall apart.

Before you could even try, however, the sound of the door opening and bouncing off the walls caught your attention. You snapped your head toward the source of the sound, but the dark room impaired your ability to see who it was. Your mind instantly went to the tea seller from before, but you weren’t ready to start throwing accusations at him yet.

There was a slight pause before the quiet rooms was filled with the sound of heels clicking against the concrete floor. You then heard a slight switch being flicked on before a light bulb spring to life. You groaned at the brightness it emitted, your eyes stinging even when you slammed them shut.

The heel clicking became louder as you observed that he was getting closer to you. You cracked open you eyes and looked up at your captor, expecting it to be Hoseok, but you surprised to see that it wasn’t the tea merchant.

The man before you wore a pristine suit that cost more than probably half a year’s salary for you. He was devilishly handsome, as if chiseled by the gods themselves. You couldn’t help but stare into his beautiful eyes, and, for a very brief moment, you had forgotten that you were kidnapped and tied to a chair.

The mysterious man looked down and gave you a small, soft smile, as if seeing an old friend after many months of separation. “Miss. Y/n,” he greeted with a velvety voice.

You snapped out of your daze and hardened your stare at him, trying to show that you were strong and wouldn’t be broken easily. “Who are you?” you demanded, venom dripping from your tone.

He tilted his head to the side, his smile growing as if he found what you said amusing. “You may call me Mr. Kim... Kim Seokjin...” he introduced himself, digging his hands into his pockets.

You paused your gaze at his resting hands, wondering if he was about to pull out a knife and threaten you. But as luck would have it, his hands remained deep in his pockets. You returned your gaze back to meet his eyes. “Okay, Mr. Kim,” you began, saying his name with contempt. “What the bloody hell do you want? I’m guessing you don’t need money. So what is it?”

Mr. Kim let out an airy laugh. “Even if I did need money, I wouldn’t go around kidnapping women who can’t even afford a nice apartment.” So this guy broke into your flat. For once, you were glad you weren’t there to witness all of it. “No, what I need from you is a little more personable.” One of his hands left his pockets and, with it, pulled out your tapestry.

Anger flared within you and boiled in your veins. You jerked in your bindings, causing the chair to squeal against the floor. “Give that back,” you snarled ferociously.

“And I will, but I need for this for a period of time... along with you as well.”

You furrowed you eyebrows in confusion, although your hardened glare never stuttered. “Why me?”

The rich man rolled back on his heels and paused, as if thinking about how he should word this. “You probably now remember the little legend that Hoseok told you, no?”

Images of Hoseok pouring the tea that must’ve been drugged flashed in you mind as you slowly nodded, he then continued, “A group of my people fled the Chinese to hide one of their most valued national treasures, and I intend to find it and return it to its rightful place in Korea.”

You pressed your lips distastefully. “I’m not going to help you go grave-robbing,” you declared.

Mr. Kim released another airy laugh. “A British person who doesn’t want to go grave-robbing? Why, that seems rather contradictory, don’t you agree?” he chuckled. “But what I’m doing I don’t consider to be grave-robbing. You can’t rob what was once yours.”

“But it isn’t yours,” you argued, leaning forward in your strapped chair. “It was your ancestors.”

“But I have a right as a Korean to reclaim it.”

“So it’s going to sit in your vast collection, I take it?”

“Oh, of course not!”

“Then why not inform your government and let them handle it?”

“I don’t know if you quite understand, Miss. Y/l/n,” he began, speaking as if he were talking to a child, “but Korea is currently taken over by the Japanese government. If they were to find out I was reclaiming an object of Korean identity, I would get executed.” He then sighed tiredly. “I’m not doing this for selfish reasons, Miss. Y/l/n. I’m doing this so that bad people don’t find the Dragon of the Stars first and destroy it.”

Your anger subsided as Mr. Kim explained himself. Why, the situation in Korea didn’t sound that much different from what the British were doing to the Indians, if not worse. You would be a hypocrite if you said you didn’t agree with his cause. If you were in his shoes, you would leave at once on this quest to search for a national treasure.

However, you couldn’t just abandon everything and help him. You had a job, a home, your pet cat, Florence! You had a life back in England! You don’t even how you could help him. You were just a reporter, not even a famous one at that. You had no skills to help him with such an expedition.

“I don’t know how I could help you, Mr. Kim,” you explained, fasting you gaze down to the floor. “I’m not educated in history or ancient languages, and I don’t even know anything about excavating. I’m not an archeologist, I’m just a reporter.”

Mr. Kim grinned broadly. “On the contrary, a reporter is exactly what we need. Reporters have influence. You can get into areas that even I can’t go. Not to mentioned you are skilled with a camera.” He tilted his head to the side. “We might not be putting our findings in a newspaper, but it would be good to document our expedition. Besides, we are using your tapestry as a guide. It would be rude not to include you.”

You thought over what he said before asking, “What about my job?”

“Already sent a letter explaining that you will be gone for a few more months in order to document the inner goings of the independence movement. Don’t worry, the report and pictures will be completed by the time we return.” He then chuckled at your shocked expression. “I like to tie up loose ends.”

“My flat in England?”

“Paid in advance.”

“My cat?”

“Already hired someone to take care of her. Florence is really adorable by the way.”

You sunk into your chair, overwhelmed by how proficient Mr. Kim was. He was also very confident that you would accept this offer. “You’re not giving me much of a choice,” you remarked, looking back at him.

“Something tells me you’ll accept either way.”

He had you cornered. There was no way you could back out of this. “Alright, I’m in.”

—————————————

Mr. Kim had released you from your bonds hours ago. You had gone through an excessive series of papers to sign, from agreeing to go on the expedition to saying you won’t sue if anything goes awry. As you left the room where you spent signing hundreds of papers, you rubbed your cramped wrist and grumbled to yourself. Mr. Kim was right, he really liked to tie up all loose ends.

Speaking of which, the rich man was standing in the hallway, waiting for your arrival. Once his eyes landed upon you, he smiled cheerfully and joined your side. “Glad you got all the paperwork filled out. Wouldn’t want any negative consequences that weren’t already expected, now would we?”

“Of course,” you agreed, “but did you really need me to sign a paper about camera insurance, Mr. Kim?” You couldn’t believe it yourself when you read that contract, but signed it anyway just to get it done and over with.

He waved his hand in the air as if he were brushing your complaint away. “Ah, ah, call me Jin. We’re all equal partners on this trip, Y/n,” he corrected, saying your name for the first time. “And we can’t be too careful. So the paperwork is there to ensure every possibility. This will be dangerous after all.” He then clapped his hands together excitedly. “Now then, time for you to meet the rest of the team! I figured it was for the best to meet them as soon as possible so we can start on the team building and bonding.”

A deep part of you expected to see old men and maybe one other person your age as you entered the room. However, you were pleasantly surprised to see six other young men already chatting with each other. The men paused their conversations to see who came in, and one of them gasped in excitement. You turned your attention to him and were faced with the man who got you into this situation. Hoseok.

“Y/n!” he called out with a wide smile. “So glad you could make it!”

You gritted your teeth. “You bastard,” you snapped, watching the smile slip from his cute lips. “You didn’t have to drug and kidnap me!” You were ready to smack him for all the panic he put you through.

Hoseok raised his hands in surrender, eyebrows slightly raised in shock. “Whoa, whoa, that wasn’t my call. I was given simple instructions, and I simply followed them. Besides, it was actually for the best that it was me who drugged you. Anyone of these guys would’ve accidentally killed you.” He then grinned again. “Especially Namjoon, guy can’t even cut an onion properly!”

Namjoon. You know that name.

You turned your head to face where Hoseok was pointing, you eyes landing on the very historian you met earlier in the day. Dr. Kim Namjoon. You groaned exasperatedly. “You were in on this, too?!” you demanded in a almost whiny tone.

Namjoon laughed sheepishly, realizing he was in a tight spot. “Um, yes, I was the one who notified Jin that the tapestry you had was authentic,” he explained, choosing his words carefully.

Hoseok then added, “And then Jin sent me to... collect you.”

You sent a cold glare at Jin. He caught your gaze and slightly flinched. “What? I had to get you away from the public eye, and I highly doubt that you would accept an offer to meet up with me concerning your tapestry!” he explained, his pace of words becoming faster and faster by the second. It was actually rather impressive that he could spit out that many words in such a short time.

You sighed and then turned back to Namjoon. “So what about your students? Did you send them back explaining you had ‘important business’ to attend to?” you questioned.

“The whole ‘professor on a trip with students’ thing was just a ploy to avoid causing suspicion with you,” he corrected, taking off his round glasses and placing them in his breast pocket. You knew he was handsome, but, damn, the way he took off his glasses was really attractive.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “But... Jungkook...?”

Suddenly, you someone tap you on the shoulder, you turned your attention to whoever did it and was faced with the so called student. He smiled adorably at you, like a child who managed to pull a successive prank on you. “Hello, again, Y/n.”

You then pinched the bridge of your nose, your aggravation growing by the second. “So all of this was a set-up to get me to join this?” you asked, your tone getting more irritated.

“Yes, and I do admit it all went rather smoothly,” Jin commented, feeling quite proud of himself for managing to pull it all off.

You sighed again, thinking that you have been taken advantage of and played like a fiddle. “I’m such a bloody idiot.” You couldn’t believe that you were so easily tricked.

“It happens to the best of us,” Hoseok said, trying to make you feel better, but you’re not sure if you wanted him to say it of all people.

Throwing your arms in the air, you said, “Alright, I guess introductions are in order.” You straightened yourself out, trying to appear at the very least presentable. “Hello, my name is y/n y/l/n, although you all probably know that from all the bloody stalking you’ve done. I’m a reporter from England, and I’ll be working as the photographer and I suppose the go-between to getting us into hard to go places.” Geez, you felt like you were back in school introducing yourself to the class.

There was a chorus of people saying hello to you politely. Scratch that, you felt like you were in one of those alcohol group therapies. After an awkward pause, Namjoon cleared his throat and spoke up, “Hi, my name is Kim Namjoon. I’m the head archeologist and translator for the team. Basically, I take care of all the boring stuff.” He laughed, while the others quietly agreed with him.

Next, a man you never met before, who looked like he spent the entire night staying up and working, mumbled, “Hello, I’m Min Yoongi, and I want to go home.”

“Don’t we all?” you commented, feeling like a deep bond with Yoongi was already forming by how much you both didn’t really want to be here.

He nodded in agreement with you before adding, “I’m the field technician. I mostly fix the things that Namjoon breaks.” The archeologist cleared his throat awkwardly while the others chuckled at memories of Namjoon breaking various things.

Hoseok then piped in, bouncing next to Yoongi. “Hi! I’m Jung Hoseok, and I work as the team doctor, which is why it was best that I drugged you.” He pointed at you with a smile. “Better a professional than an amateur.”

“And apparently a professional actor, too,” you added, rousing a chorus of chuckles.

Hoseok shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve been taking some notes from Jin. He actually went to school for acting.”

Jin sighed wistfully. “My acting career unfortunately didn’t get far.”

The next man smiled at you charmingly, he was smaller, around Yoongi’s height. However, the size of his arms and legs told you that, despite his height, he was not to be messed with. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you!” he greeted. Your heart clenched at how adorable his greeting was. “I’m Park Jimin, and I’m the pilot, navigator, and team survivalist.” He chortled when seeing your raised eyebrows. You were impressed with the many skills he had in his utility. It made you feel rather useless compared to him.

A deep voice snapped you from your thoughts about Jimin. “Hi, I’m Kim Taehyung, and I’m in charge of removing structural obstacles with the method of discharging a series of fulminations,” he explained with an innocent grin.

Jungkook scoffed and rolled his eyes. “He means he likes to blow stuff up. He’s our demolition expert,” he clarified, earning a playful punch from the older man.

You gave a concerned glance to Jin. “Is blowing stuff up really necessary?” you asked, imaging the spectacle of the authorities arresting you all because Taehyung blew up something he wasn’t supposed to.

Jin reassured you, “I expect the Dragon of the Stars to be heavily fortified, meaning we might have to demolish some things in order to get there. Besides, Taehyung has been doing this type of work for years, and I trust him wholeheartedly not to make a mistake.” He then grinned and added, “You might say he’s flameous for his work!” He then burst into a seal-like laughter, earning a series of groans from his horrible pun.

Before Jin could make another horrendous pun, Jungkook decided to step in and save the day. “You already know me, but I’m Jeon Jungkook. I’m considered to be the muscle of the team, just in case anyone wishes to harm us along the way,” he informed you.

Taehyung remarked, “Yeah! He could probably bench press you no problem, y/n! Kookie is a muscle pig!” He pinched the youngest’s chubby cheeks, while the others began to coo about how adorable he was.

You watched the whole scene develop before you. Jungkook getting all embarrassed with all the compliments he was receiving before trying to brush it off onto someone else. It would work for a few seconds until someone brought the attention back unto Jungkook. You realized that this team, although you didn’t know how long they knew each other, was like a weird family, a family that you would be joining very soon.

What have you gotten yourself into?

[joie-university-rp]

Dear DANTE NOIRE,

It is with great pleasure we invite you admission to Joie University! Welcome to the Thunderclap family!

-

Congratulations, JUSTIN! Please be sure to check the New Members’ Checklist and send in your character’s account within 24 hours from now. We cannot wait to see all that you will bring to this roleplay! We love you already!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias; pronouns: Justin, he/him

Age, Timezone: 20, MST

Activity, short explanation: 3-4 hours a day, after work.

Ships: Dante/Kurt since I am filling the connection. Dante/anyone.

Anti-Ships: Nothing.

Triggers: None for me.

Preferred photo for Character’s ID (please give a link): https://media.gq-magazine.co.uk/photos/5d138d392881cc034d0a7267/master/w_1280,c_limit/Adam-Driver-04-GQ-12Dec17_Dante-Brookes_b.jpg

Anything else: I’m filling this connection. https://joie-university-rp.tumblr.com/post/189809373804/requested-connection-for-kurt-hummel-suggested

IC INFORMATION:

Full Name (First, Middle, Last): Dante Matthew Noire

FC: Adam Driver

Age/Year at University (Freshman [1st Year], Sophomore, Junior, Senior, or Graduate Student): 24 years old, freshman/first year

Birth date (MONTH DAY, YEAR): August 13th, 1995

Hometown (please be sure to check the hometowns listed for characters your muse is related to!): Los Angeles, California

Gender/Pronouns: Male, he/him.

Sexuality: Pansexual

Major(s): Philosophy

Minor(s) [optional]: Songwriting/Music

Housing request (remember, only the president of a Greek Organization is required to live at a Greek House to be in it!): Schuester Dormitory Single Dorm 205

Extracurriculars (Click here for the list. Be sure to specify any executive board positions [i.e. president, secretary, etc.] If something isn’t listed, please put it here and we will add it to the masterlist!):  Glee Club Member, Fencing Team Member

Greek Life Affiliation [optional] (Please be sure to specify any executive board positions [i.e. president, pledge educator, etc.] or if your character is not yet a member, but plans to rush): None.

CHARACTER PROFILE (TW; Alcohol abuse, suicidal tendencies):

Dante was born into a relatively normal upper-class family. His parents were a very successful pair, his mother a lawyer and his father a banking executive. He lived in peaceful comfort, went the best private schools for teaching, yet when it came time for him to start building towards a career path, he couldn’t seem to pick one. He was a joy in the classroom and had a knack for tutoring other students that struggled as well. Alas, he didn’t want to be a teacher like his mother recommended, or a social worker like his father suggested. He found his true home in the music room. His parents had him learn piano and other various instruments, including vocal lessons, much to their detriment. When it came to his senior year of high school with not a single college application submitted, Dante came clean to his parents; he wanted to be a musician.

He moved away from L.A. when his family rejected his selected career path, especially after they cut him off from his allowance. When he got to New York, he was dead-broke, but found a job quickly as a jazz -ballad singer and pianist at a couple bars around the city. He sang in parks and street corners, releasing self-written songs online, hoping one day he would get noticed. It wasn’t until he actually took a piece of his father’s advice that he started to gain fame; “Dress as if you already have the job when you go in for the interview.” So, Dante gave himself the new look, dressing like the jazzy, big band singers and performers of old, promoting his image as well as his music.

Dante’s relationship with Kurt ran along with his quest to fame. He met Kurt during one of his nights working at an underage-friendly jazz bar near NYADA’s campus. Due to his talents, the students that came in would tip him well. It was in September of 2016, one year into Dante’s tenure in New York, did he spot the other man in the same seat once a week. It didn’t take long for Dante to introduce himself. Kurt and Dante together felt like they were two puzzle pieces, making a complete picture. When Dante started to gain a small following online, he made efforts to separate his professional life from when he was at home. Kurt made him feel like he could be his true self, open and free, yet while he was on stage, performing for an audience of strangers, he was putting up an act. He knew Kurt’s voice was magnificent, but he never wanted Kurt to think he was using him like that to promote his own career. Dante loved Kurt, and he wanted to keep Kurt far away from his growing spotlight. Let Kurt find his own dream, his own claim to fame, with Dante supporting him the entire way. At least, that was the promise Dante proposed to Kurt with in 2017.

As his fame began to grow and explode, the lines between his face to his growing public and at home began to mix. Dante would come home shitfaced from some party, or a concert, or PR event. Photos online with him holding fans close, kissing their cheeks, and being flirtatious would come out in the tons each time he stepped outside. Kurt would have to sober Dante up, thwarting his attempts to get into his pants. Kurt never obliged while he was drunk, which would result in a heated argument. It wasn’t until the next morning that he would apologize. Trust became very thin, very quickly, turning into a vicious cycle, over and over. It was Dante returning from his first 3-month tour, as drunk as ever, that ended the relationship for good. Another argument had broken out, this time Kurt demanding to know why there were clips online of him running around some party with his hand in some girl’s back pocket. Dante became furious Kurt would think he cheated, yelling up and down it was just for PR. Kurt didn’t buy it, eventually locking himself in the bathroom when Dante threw a glass at him. It wasn’t until Dante woke up the next morning, somehow in his bed, that he realized just how badly he had fucked up. Kurt left him, with the ring on the kitchen counter, the glass cleaned, and fresh coffee brewing in the pot.

The depression that followed Kurt leaving had Dante near suicidal. He tried to find Kurt; his number was blocked, and when he contacted NYADA to find him, they said that he had dropped out. He was blocked on social media, using dummy accounts to find out none of them were being updated. Kurt had disappeared, and there was no way Dante could find him. He gave up, vanished for months from the public eye, nearly destroying his career in its infancy. In that time, Dante wrote songs, poems, and love letters for Kurt he could never send. When his agent demanded work from him, he just tossed the papers on the table in frustration, that having been his only work during that time. It was a good thing his agent had more business sense than Dante, recommending he commit his works to the studio, to audio, to music. And hence, his chart-topping, record breaking, radio dominating album, ‘To Kill the Canary’, was born. It tore away from his jazz swings of the past into a ballad genre, featuring less sax and more acoustic guitar. The day the album released, he saw the crowds form at his feet, resonating and praising his work. He was determined to live despite what happened, even if he couldn’t seem to move on.

With all this success, why attend Joie for a degree? He was set for life, he didn’t need more education. Dante’s agent thought the opposite. With the influence he held, and with him turning twenty-five in August, they thought it would look great for his image if he wasn’t just some good-looking musical flounce, doomed to fail when he was no longer dominating the public. They opted for the Emma Watson route; go to college. Get a degree. That way, he was a cut above all the others in his industry; he wasn’t just a talent, he was educated. He chose philosophy as his major over music because he already mastered music. He didn’t want college to be a complete waste of time, so he decided to learn something completely new. Joie was an easy choice for a university; it was a world-renown college, one his fans would recognize. The fact one of his dummy accounts notified him of a post to Kurt’s Instagram had absolutely nothing to do with this college selection. Nothing at all…

STUDENT CENSUS SURVEY:

(Please answer the following questions IN CHARACTER. Responses can be as long or short as you see fit!)

What made you want to attend Joie University?

The prestigious nature of the school seemed the perfect place to both earn my degree and gain life experience I have been lacking. The administration seemed accommodating considering my current position and gave the impression that I would be treated just like everyone else. Overall, I felt very welcomed and fell in love with Joie instantly.

What are at least 3 positive or neutral and at least 3 negative traits that you believe you possess?

My most positive trait would be my unwavering determination. Even in the face of my family being nay-sayers in the quest for my dreams, I went after them anyway. Now, I wish to prove there is more to me than a pretty voice, exceed my own expectations. Perhaps that is my second trait; ambition for a new challenge. No mountain is too high for me. And that ties into my third best trait being creative problem solving. I simply cannot take no for an answer. If there is a will, there is a way, and I have a lot of willpower.

As far as the negatives of my personality, every positive is a doubt edged sword. For all my determination, it is very difficult for me to know when it is time to stop, reflect, and take it what is around me. I am always pushing for the next goal, leaving me often forgetting to savor the moment. I don’t know when to stop pushing for more, for better. This has had my personal relationships suffer in the past as well, and I do plan to remedy this. Apologies are another weakness of mine. For all I try to correct any wrongs on my part, simply saying ‘I’m sorry’ seems to escape my mind. A third flaw… I am frequently told I am too generous with my money. It isn’t like I could possibly use it all, so I use it on others. This has lead to a few personalities latching onto me simply for my wallet or my fame. I suppose that makes me a sub-par judge of character.

Which of your traits do you value most?

My ambition, by far. Taking on the impossible and making it believable is something I enjoy doing, both in music and in life. I wish to up the ante by studying for my degree, see what challenges I can tackle next.

How can that trait benefit the University (or its student body) as a whole?

Being I am a special case, it would be no lie to say my experience in the school could lead to positive press. I would also be interested in investing in the school through funding scholarships and such, once I am no longer a student. I do believe in the power of education, so on the same hand I do not wish to distract from other students attending. Making a show of myself here is not the goal. I wish to meld into the student body just as a regular attendee, no special treatment. That is what I could bring.

What do you hope to gain from your experience at JU?

The typical college experiences. The ups and downs of dorm life, the stress of finals, the development into a greater person leaving than you were when you arrived. I want all these things.

What is a quote or song lyric that describes you?

“I wanna take you high up, Let our hearts be the only sounds, I wanna go where lights burn low, And you’re only mine.” -James Bay, ‘Wild Love’

[chimchimchoo]

Sightless :: 10

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 1,487

Pair: Yoongi x Jimin

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 13)

“On a typical Saturday, a near-fatal accident destroyed his eyesight.

Now Park Jimin feared Saturdays. Whether it was the most beautiful, clear day out or a rough, raging storm. Every Saturday, he would go into hiding, away from the world, away from any danger.

But then Min Yoongi shows up, picking up the little pieces of life Jimin lost and tries to show him that Saturdays can be, in fact, the safest day of the week.”

A/N: Every chapter switches perspectives, the name of that person (Jimin/Yoongi) will be in bold before the start of the chapter.

JIMIN

“We found you a donor, Mr. Park. The documents are signed and prepared. We can schedule you for a surgery next month. All we need is the okay from you.”

“I’ll do it!” Jimin didn’t waste a minute to respond. “I’ll do it Doctor Oh!”

“That’s the spirit, I’ll call you back to set up an appointment to go over the details of it. Have a great day Mr. Park.”

“Thank you so much, thank you!” Jimin bowed multiple times with the phone in his hand, trying to show his gratitude although he knew the doctor wouldn’t see it through the device.

“What happened?” Yoongi suddenly asked as Jimin hung up the phone with the biggest smile.

“I got a donor, it’s official! They can set up the surgery next month!”

“Are you serious?” Yoongi gasped, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“I’m getting my sight back! It’s actually happening. Oh my god, I’m going to be able to-“ He was suddenly interrupted when he felt a pair of lips slam against his.

Shocked at first, Jimin froze for a few seconds before he closed his eyes, melting into his touch. Their bodies pressed together, Yoongi’s lips melded into his. They were so warm and a little chapped, but it was exactly as Jimin imagined. He had grazed his fingers across his lips far too many times when identifying Yoongi’s face, never had he thought he would get to kiss them, but he desperately wished so. Uncertain of what Yoongi would have said about it, Jimin just kept it buried deep in the back of his thoughts.

It was gentle at first, but then Jimin felt the desperation grow in Yoongi. Suddenly pushed against the wall behind him, Yoongi’s kiss grew deeper, as if he had been holding it in all this time. His hands moved from Jimin’s shoulders to his flushed cheeks as Jimin wrapped his arms around his torso.

The world melted away from them, all things seem to have come to a halt. Nothing mattered to two at the moment. Just the sensation of their skin touching and the intimacy that hung in the air between them was enough.

Before they got too carried away, Jimin tilted his head back against the wall, gasping. He heard heavy breaths fill the air as they were nose to nose. The butterflies tickled inside of his stomach, the muscles in his body went numb and his legs turned into jelly.

Jimin couldn’t see Yoongi, he couldn’t figure out what he was possibly thinking. Was he smiling? Frowning? Was this a terrible idea? Was it a good one?

Based on a light, satisfied laugh he heard just now, Jimin confirmed it. It was most definitely a good idea.

“Should we tell your friends that it’s official this time?” Yoongi asked, his thumb gently stroking Jimin’s cheek.

“We should, but that can be dealt with later. My mind is a bit distracted right now.” Jimin could bet a million bucks that Yoongi had a smirk on his face as he giggled, his eyes turning into those usual crescents whenever he was happy.

Jimin tilted his head upwards and met with Yoongi’s lips again, but this time, with his help, he finally aimed right. Yoongi slung an arm around Jimin’s waist as their lips locked, the longing of Yoongi’s touch that was pushed in the back of his mind was finding it’s way to the surface.

His senses were on fire, the heat of the kiss taking over his thoughts. He expected Yoongi to be the rough type, but to his surprise, he was actually so gentle, so careful as if Jimin could break under his touch.

“I don’t think you understand how long I’ve waited for that.” Jimin said quietly after their lips parted to catch their breath. He could sense Yoongi smiling again, Jimin’s fingers gently caressing his cheek.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

They stood in silence, small giggles filling the air every now and then as they took in the moment.

But within a few minutes, Yoongi’s hands grew cold and clammy as Jimin felt him let go and back away, cold air filling the space between them. Was he regretting it now? “Yoongi, what is it?” His heart dropped into his stomach, scared that he may have done something wrong.

“Uh, nothing.” He heard uncertainty in his voice. “We should get back to work, we made a deal. When the phone dies, break is over.”

Frowning, Jimin didn’t know how to respond to his sudden demeanor. Although it was technically Jimin who initiated the kiss in his first place, Yoongi was the one who took it another step further. It wasn't fair of him to grow distant all of the sudden.

“Yoongi, if this is about-”

“It’s not, don’t worry. I just have a lot on my mind. Come on, we need to finish this.” Jimin heard Yoongi pat a hand on the piano bench, gesturing to come back.

Biting his lip, the usual nervous habit, he returned to the piano, running his fingers along the smooth keys. As he played random notes, he heard Yoongi aggressively scribbling on paper, trying his best to figure out what he was possibly thinking.

For the rest of that day, unless had to do with the final and editing the composition, neither of them had spoken a word, leaving a heavy atmosphere in the room.

----------

“Now, you’ll need to go 24 hours without food or drinks, water is acceptable. You will also feel drowsy with some frequent headaches the next few days afterwards. That is completely normal. It’s going to be overwhelming at first, to be able to see everything.” The doctor instructed, piling papers in front of the two boys that sat at the desk.

The semester had come to an end, Yoongi and Jimin successfully turned in their projects and treated themselves to drinks that night, celebrating the finishing of the first half of their school year.

The incident from earlier wasn’t spoken of afterwards. The two moved on with their life like nothing had ever happened, but mentally, Jimin questioned his actions over and over. It was the only thing on his mind ever since then. Dare he say he grew even more attracted to him? Longing for more of his touch? To just do nothing but be next to him? Laugh at his lousy attempts at jokes?  To gently touch his face and try, try his very best to paint a picture of what he looked like in his mind.

There was only a week left until his big surgery, Jimin dragged Yoongi along to his appointment to discuss the smaller details of it. Each day that passed by, Jimin grew more nervous, yet excited. He thought of all the things he was going to do once he was able to see. One of them was dancing, without a doubt.

“Keep these papers in a file, or somewhere safe when you get home. These are the official documents and signatures from everyone. You’ll need to hold onto these in case anything were to come up.”

“Thank you Doctor Oh. I cannot express my appreciation.”

“I’m glad you look forward to it on a bright note. Anyhow, your surgery will be on Saturday, December 20th. It’ll be early in the morning, but you’ll be able to get plenty of rest in your room during the day.”

Jimin’s smile faltered, but then grinned even wider with a confident nod. Concluding their meeting, Yoongi and Jimin stood, giving him a quick bow before leaving his office.

Clutching onto the small stack of papers tightly in one hand and the white cane in the other, he followed Yoongi through the hall of the hospital, mazing their way to the elevator.

When they got inside of the metallic cubicle, just the two of them, Jimin turned until he was sure he faced him. “Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

“Will you go with me?” Jimin suddenly asked with hope. “I want you to be the first one I see when I wake up.”

“Jimin, I don’t know, I-”

“Please? Do it for me? Please. It’s on a Saturday, I don’t want to spend that day without you. I know it probably makes you nervous. But I’m serious, I’m probably going to tell you you’re the most perfect human being ever when I see you, because I know you are.”

Yoongi was silent for a moment, a strange tension hanging in the air. “I’ll come.” There was the strangest hesitation, a distant feeling in his voice that Jimin questioned, but he quickly brushed it off. Just the fact Yoongi was going to be there made Jimin more than happy.

“Thank you.” He smiled as the elevator doors opened to the hospital lounge bustling with nurses and patients.

With all that set into place, there was only t-minus seven days until the operation.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Bloodstone | Part 8

Summary: You knew all about the ring your grandmother had told you about and yet when the stone fell from it one fateful day, you weren’t truly prepared for its return, nor who it came back with.

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

Genre: fantasy / romance

Warnings: another angst part

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

“You don’t need to be so serious right now, Yoongi,” you teased as he led you into the back, stacks of books scattered everywhere over his desk. You gasped at how much he had invested into researching the stone. Turning your wide-eyed expression towards your best friend, you shook your head in astonishment. “Woah, you’ve been busy.” Shoving aside some papers strewn on his chair, Yoongi placed you within it and handed you an opened book, pointing at the page.

“Read.”

It was another handwritten journal, and you blinked a couple of times before settling into the passage. You grinned when you read the words Stone of Blood and looked up at Yoongi. “The bloodstone!”

“Just… read it, won’t you?” he urged, his expression void of any happiness.

Troubled by Yoongi’s response, you returned your focus to the book you held.

Victoria had fallen greatly for the strange man who appeared from her dreams. As her lady’s maid, I was the only one privy to the man staying within her chambers. Mr Percy charmed her in the greatest sense and my Lady was overjoyed that her lonely days were over. They planned to wed in the spring and children were often discussed. After her troubled childhood, I was relieved she was smiling once again.

Just as strange as his arrival, was his departure. I awoke to the shrill of my mistress, and by the time I reached her side, she was hysterical. Her hands were bleeding as she held shards of a red stone within them and her cries woke the entire village.

She was never the same after that night.

You stopped reading then, placing the book down on the table and distancing yourself from it. Yoongi retrieved it and cleared his throat. “It goes on to say that Victoria ended up hanging herself from the second-floor landing of the manor home when she realised Percy wasn’t going to return.”

“It’s just someone else’s experience,” you murmured, trying to clasp your shaking hands together. “Perhaps there was a problem with how the stone embedded within him.”

“It’s not the only one. The stone seemed more actively used back then. In fifteen-”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Y/N!” Yoongi exasperatedly called, placing the book down and reaching for your shuddering shoulders. You couldn’t quite look him in the eye, convincing yourself that what you had read was just a story from long ago. Shaking you roughly, Yoongi finally caught your attention. “You did as the book told you to. You fell in love. The stone has you both fooled that this union is meant to be because it’s controlling you. But the stone once overwhelmed with that love, will shatter. Namjoon won’t be here for long. If you keep up with this delusional love for him-”

“It’s not delusional. I know what is from the stone and what is from my heart!”

Yoongi raked a hand down his face in frustration. “Do you really? Because what you’re experiencing is just what Eliza and Victoria and all these people did. And look at the misfortune they all experienced. This stone will kill you both if you’re not careful. I don’t want to lose you. Please listen to me. You need to send him away, for both of your sakes.”

You couldn’t relax, not even when you returned home later that evening. The words on that page continued to haunt you, much as Yoongi’s urgent warning did. You were in a stage of disbelief, detached from your physical self, fumbling around the house for any sense of clarity.

Namjoon gripped at your shoulders firmly. “Maybe you should go rest. You don’t look well, my love.”

“That’s a good idea,” you murmured, slowly making your way down to your bed.

You slept soundlessly for several hours and then awoke with a start, relieved to find Namjoon beside you still. Whilst your slumber had been dreamless, you had jolted awake, shackled with fear that he was no longer in your world.

You couldn’t cope with this building anxiety.

Getting up quietly, you headed into the study, reaching for the journal Namjoon knew more intimately than you did. As you read each entry Eliza had made, you felt yourself relating more with the woman. Her joy had been yours recently. You understood how she felt when she gushed over holding Namwoo’s hand and how food tasted better at his side.

As you continued, the rollercoaster of emotions overwhelmed you. Reaching the final entry, you choked on your sobs, realising why Eliza had done as she had.

“Why are you in here?” a voice questioned softly and you turned to look at Namjoon, your emotions flooding from your eyes.

“I know why now. She wasn’t awful at all. Eliza gave up your father to save him.”

The statement shook Namjoon and he rushed to your side, brushing away the endless stream of tears as best as he could. You turned your head away from him as you tried to gather your emotions up into a box as you had earlier in the day. However, Namjoon stopped this, wanting to know more, wanting to see everything.

He couldn’t help you otherwise.

“She broke my father.”

“He would have died if she hadn’t!”

“Wh-what?” Namjoon breathed, his eyebrows knitting together. “Why would he-”

“Yoongi told me everything. The stone is cruel, Namjoon. It doesn’t want to harness long-lasting love. It just wants its fill of the emotion. And then when it’s done, it shatters, unable to handle the weight of that love anymore.”

“That’s… it makes no sense!”

You explained all that you had read in the bookstore earlier and Yoongi’s warning as well. You were distraught; clinging to the front of Namjoon’s bed shirt as if holding on would keep him there for longer.

None of it made sense to him and Namjoon gripped at his head. “You’re telling me, the stone will poison me if you choose to give me up, or it will shatter when our love grows too great?”

“Something like that.”

“But it states its binding two entities together in the truest of love. That’s powerful.”

“And deadly,” you wailed, a fresh wave of emotions trailing down your face. “I don’t want you to die like Percy did.”

“Victoria didn’t know if Percy actually died or just vanished,” Namjoon pointed out but you shook your head.

“He never returned and she ended her life. This is so tragic. Why did my grandmother give me such a terrible curse?!”

“Calm down, what we have isn’t a curse,” he soothed, reaching for your shuddering body.

As you sobbed on Namjoon’s shoulder, he tried to understand why the stone even existed if its sole purpose was to destroy the very love it sought out each time. He was certain there was more to understand in this lesson. The stone wouldn’t continue to bring two different life forces together like this for such a trivial need of love. The ongoing tribulations of sourcing out the right people felt like the path of destiny. His father had been the right fit for Eliza. He firmly believed his heart was meant to entangle with yours.

This couldn’t end so catastrophically.

Your emotions weakened you and you spent the remainder of the morning in bed. Although it pained Namjoon to leave you alone whilst unwell, he held a pressing need to revisit Yoongi’s store.

Setting off at a quick pace and following the route he had paid attention to yesterday, he eventually found himself standing in front of the building. Heaving in a deep breath, he strode to the door, the bell chiming above to announce of his arrival.

Namjoon still couldn’t understand what Yoongi said, unlike you. However, after an intense stare down, Yoongi sighed and nodded, gesturing for Namjoon to follow him. He stepped through a curtained doorway into the back room of the store and blinked at all the stacks of ancient texts littered everywhere.

For a moment, Namjoon was overwhelmed with admiration for the human. Whether or not they had their differences, he could appreciate that beneath that bristly exterior was an intellectual man who genuinely cared about you.

Yoongi shuffled towards the desk and picked up a book, handing it over to him.

Just as you had read, there was the tale of Percy and Victoria’s love before him. He, however, took longer than you had, perusing each page for a better indication of what could happen to him and you.

Namjoon wasn’t prepared to give up on your love. Although your time together hadn’t been very long, in all his years of existence, he hadn’t felt this way before. He was certain that meant something. Why else would he get to experience something this powerful if it was all meant to end in disaster?

He continued to think over Percy’s departure. If all that remained behind was a shattered stone, surely that didn’t mean he had died. Namjoon thought over this for some time, vaguely hearing Yoongi talking on his phone.

It wasn’t until he felt your arms wrap around him tightly that Namjoon snapped back into full awareness of his surroundings.

“Don’t leave me ever again!” you begged, clinging to him as you shook with your emotions.

Namjoon glanced up at Yoongi watching on from the doorway and then pulled you into his lap, sighing heavily with the thought of what he needed to say next. “Listen to me carefully, Y/N. I’m going to have to leave you.”

_________________

Part 9

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[BTS Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[prettywordsyouleft]

Nap Time

Summary: being pregnant wasn’t being kind on you even with your husband Jongin working hard to ease some of your burdens.

Pairing: Kim Jongin x reader

Genre: fluffy family au / pregnancy au

A/N: requested by my writing wife @ongsung. As soon as this request came in, I knew I had to wreck you (and other Jongin fans) with Dad/Husband Jongin. So here we go! I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 1449

You hadn’t been this sick last time. In fact, as you thought over your last pregnancy, it had been so perfect that you had become complacent. Everything about being pregnant with your daughter was too easy. You slept and ate well, you exercised, heck you didn’t get a sore back until two weeks before delivering her. Even the labour was short not as excruciating as you had prepared for it to be. You had been the envy of all your friends and family, and secretly, you had lapped that attention up. Of course, once out of the womb your daughter was rambunctious and kept both you and your husband Jongin on your toes. How you had been convinced to have another child already still didn’t seem fathomable when your daughter was just hitting her terrible twos. And she was definitely living up to the title. Jongin seemed to think you were both ready for the challenge, reminding you of all the things you had enjoyed about being pregnant last time. Not to mention how vocal he was about how gorgeous you had looked to him when you were carrying your daughter. You knew you were beautiful to him all the time, but he had been a special kind of affectionate towards you when pregnant and you kind of missed him rubbing at your baby bump and talking to your growing baby every day. You had fallen more in love with him during those nine months than within the year of marriage before falling pregnant. Besides, you had assumed since the first pregnancy had gone so stellar, the second would follow the same track, right?

Boy, you had been wrong.

You were so sick you had no idea that you had actually fallen pregnant initially. You had thought it was some terrible cold that was affecting you from head to toe. Instead, it was found at eight weeks that you weren’t throwing up because your body was rejecting everything, rather, it was trying to accommodate new life. You had been hopeful that this phase of morning sickness would leave soon when you hit your second trimester.

It was still in full force at seventeen weeks and you were bedridden from it.

“Again?” Jongin asked as he found you laying in bed, looking as pale as the sheets surrounding you. He tenderly reached to cup your face in his hand and sighed. “Is anything being kept down?”

You sighed. “I’m doing better today but I still have no energy. It seems our Little Miss took all of mine and has channelled it into very active playtime in her room for the last fifteen minutes. I honestly am scared to go take a look at the mess passed what I’ve been watching on the baby monitor screen.”

“I’ll go check on her, and then keep her quiet for the rest of the afternoon so you can rest up.”

You smiled gratefully at your husband. “You know as much as I curse about this nightmare of a pregnancy, I’m so glad I have you to go through it with.”

“Where else would I be?” Jongin replied, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You didn’t marry just any man, but the best man for you.”

You rolled your eyes but chuckled all the same. “Alright well we’ll see how much you can be the best Daddy too in getting her to play quietly, nap and not destroy our home for another day, shall we?”

“Just you wait, you’ll be singing my praises over dinner!” he exclaimed leaving you to it.

At first, Jongin had placated her somewhat. Even though you had the baby monitor volume turned off, you had heard all the noise from the room down the hallway from your bed for those fifteen minutes. It had definitely quietened down some and you actually were able to nestle into your bedding and close your eyes to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Pregnancy insomnia had kicked in a week ago and you had cursed the addition to your already miserable experience. Normally you wouldn’t get to nap during the day unless your mother was watching over your daughter so this would be a special treat.

Yet right as you were certain your dreams were going to lull you into a peaceful slumber, there was a loud bang and a whine from your husband accompanied it. Just what on earth had happened? Reaching for the monitor, you frowned when you found the bedroom empty. They had obviously gone out to the living room and so you listened for signs, deciphering whether you would need to haul yourself up out of bed or not.

“How about we watch Frozen?” you heard your husband say and your daughter screeched with excitement.

Crisis averted. You settled back down and closed your eyes.

And then you heard the song that was the bane of every parent’s existence. “Let it gooooooo, let it gooooo!”

“Shh, we don’t want to wake Mummy!”

“But Daddy, sing, sing!”

You smiled when you heard Jongin quietly join in singing as well.

For the next two hours, every time you almost fell asleep again, you would become alert, sometimes to sounds, other times to the fact that it was eerily silent. You knew it would be impossible to actually rest like this and heaved yourself up, holding a hand over your stomach as you shuffled to the living room. You found the pair engaged in a colouring session, both sticking their tongues out the side of their mouths in concentration.

“What are you doing?” you asked and your daughter snapped her gaze up towards yours.

“Mummy!” she exclaimed, running over and hugging you tightly. You sat down slowly and the toddler immediately climbed onto your lap. “We colour!”

“You’re colouring in with Daddy?” you repeated and she nodded energetically. You then looked to Jongin and smirked before looking back at your daughter. “And have you had nap time yet?”

Immediately your lap was vacated and a crayon was back in her hand. “WE COLOUR!”

“Now, now, baby girl, we don’t talk to Mummy like that.” Jongin sighed as he stared at you helplessly. “Nap time just didn’t seem to eventuate. Even for you, it seems.”

“How about we all go to bed instead?” you suggested and both Jongin and your daughter eyed you. “Bring the crayons and your beautiful picture you’re working on and we can all go cuddle up in bed, how does that sound?”

“Okay!” she cried, her chubby hands gripping at all she could muster.

Jongin helped you back to your feet and the three of you all went down to your bedroom, climbing into bed. You snuggled into Jongin’s side and your daughter sprawled out on her belly next to you. As she coloured, you gently rubbed at her back in soothing circles and after ten minutes, her head had drooped down to rest against the bedding, the crayon in her hand barely staying there in her loosened grip.

Jongin smiled. “How did you know she would fall asleep?”

“I didn’t,” you admitted and grinned up at your husband. “But even if she didn’t, at least it’s finally peaceful in this house.”

“Are you saying I didn’t do enough to make it that way?”

You shook your head. “You did all you could and I appreciate your efforts. Some days she’s just like a little tornado until she crashes. She’s always on the go.”

“She reminds me of someone else I know,” he teased and you rolled your eyes. “Even though I hate seeing you this sick, your pregnancy this time is actually making you slow down for a change.”

“Careful, I might have to demote you from the best man in my life.”

“Who will fill that spot?” he wondered and you both looked at your stomach, knowing that you were carrying a little boy this time from your scan last week. Jongin chuckled softly. “He’s causing so much havoc right now; reckon he’ll be worse than she is on the outside?”

“I’m hoping he’ll be the calm one. After all, if she takes after me, we’ll need someone to be a little like you, won’t we?”

“I like the sound of that,” he agreed, snuggling into you and running his hand up and down your arm. “And the idea of napping right now sounds blissful too.”

“Are you thinking your hand will send me off to sleep like it did her?” you asked, stifling a yawn. You had to admit, it did make sleep sound inviting again with his hand gently caressing you like that.

Jongin chuckled softly. “I’ll give you ten minutes and we’ll see what happens.”

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[EXO Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[chimchimchoo]

Sightless :: 9

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 2,514

Pair: Yoongi x Jimin

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 13)

“On a typical Saturday, a near-fatal accident destroyed his eyesight.

Now Park Jimin feared Saturdays. Whether it was the most beautiful, clear day out or a rough, raging storm. Every Saturday, he would go into hiding, away from the world, away from any danger.

But then Min Yoongi shows up, picking up the little pieces of life Jimin lost and tries to show him that Saturdays can be, in fact, the safest day of the week.”

A/N: Every chapter switches perspectives, the name of that person (Jimin/Yoongi) will be in bold before the start of the chapter.

YOONGI

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Just give me another minute.” He breathed heavily, clutching against the wall. “I’ve never gone this far before.”

“You’ve been standing there for an hour now. Don’t force yourself if you’re not ready.”

“No, I want to do this.”

Yoongi stood outside of the apartment as he watched Jimin stand at the doorway, shivering. Earlier this morning while Yoongi was making tea for them, Jimin suddenly spoke up and decided it was time for him to try to go outside. Yoongi almost spilled the hot water in response; he thought he would never hear him say such words on a Saturday.

The cold wind blew through the outdoor hall of the apartment complex, making Yoongi shudder through his thick layer of winter clothes. Earlier, when he first opened the door, Jimin screamed and hid in his bedroom, as Yoongi tried to console him, reminding him it was just the wind coming in. Thinking that Jimin had fallen entirely back to square one, Yoongi sighed of relief when he watched the boy eventually exit his room, approaching the front door.

Concentrating on him take a deep, shaky breath, Jimin moved so slowly, Yoongi thought he was watching a slow motion film. His foot landed just outside of the door, and then the other.

“You made it outside.” Yoongi grinned widely, the fluttery feeling of pride and excitement tickling inside of his stomach. Inch by inch, Jimin moved himself closer toward him. “I’m not going to get hurt, I’m not going to get hurt.” He repeated to himself and stopped just centimeters in front of him.

“Jimin you…you’re facing your fear. You’re standing outside of your apartment on a Saturday.” Tears dripped down Jimin’s cheeks as Yoongi lifted a hand, wiping them away with his thumb. “I’ve never been more proud of you.”

It took a lot of time, but Yoongi watched the timid young figure grow braver within each passing Saturday, willing to try, willing to face his fears. He couldn’t explain the feeling bubbling inside of him when he watched him take new steps, to push forward.

“Do you want to try moving a little further?”

Jimin quickly shook his head. “I want to stay here for a bit. I’ll only go this far.”

“You have all the time in the world.” He tightened the scarf around Jimin’s neck, making sure the cold air wouldn’t seep through the fabric and ruffled his pumpkin hair.

Yoongi stood beside him for what felt like forever until Jimin decided he was far too cold to stand outside and pulled Yoongi in with him.

“Um, Jimin, why are you taking me to the bathroom?” He asked as they entered the small cubicle, watching Jimin feel around for the sink with a smile.

“You’re helping me with my fears, so I’m helping you with yours.”

“What do you mean exactly?”

“Look in that mirror right there and name 5 things you love about yourself.” He pointed toward the mirror in front of them as Yoongi caught a quick glimpse of his own reflection before looking back at him.

“I don’t know Jimin…this isn’t-“

“Please just do this. For me? For yourself. I want to help you.”

With furrowed eyebrows, Yoongi moved his gaze back toward the mirror, the same pair of eyes staring right back at him. He looked away for a moment, disgusted by what he saw but glanced back again. His mint hair was frizzy and untamed from the humidity; the tip of his nose grew pink from the cold air. His eyes were so dark, they look like black beads and his natural expression seemed to always carry a frown.

“I love…the music I make.” He began, but his voice was flat and his expression didn’t change. There was no affection in the tone. “I love my mint hair. I love my shirt.”

He stopped at three, unable to find any more compliments for himself. Jimin leaned up and whispered a few sentences in his ear as Yoongi rolled his eyes. “I love how I became friends with this blind guy.” Yoongi said with sarcasm. “And finally, I love my sarcasm.”

Jimin broke into a laugh, satisfied with the results. “Very good, we’ll try adding one more compliment to it another day.” He pat Yoongi’s shoulder before walking out of the bathroom without a word. For a few more seconds, Yoongi observed his face in the mirror before turning around with an unsatisfied grunt.

----------

Many Saturdays passed. Seeing that the semester was starting to come to an end, Jimin took more and more steps away from his apartment. At one point, he even made it to the first floor, but as soon as walked out and accidentally bumped into a child, Jimin fell into a panic and hid in his room for the rest of the day. But after a short talk with Yoongi and spending the majority of the day convincing himself that he was okay, he found the courage to try it again and got as far as the sidewalk at the very end of the apartment complex.

He sat on the curb and pressed a hand on the cold pavement of the street. There were no cars for it was nearly 4 am, but Jimin wanted to learn that the street was harmless. The texture of the pavement reminded him of the moment he was dragged out of the car, lying against the street as a voice comforted him. But he didn’t feel scared at the thought. He felt thankful. That man had saved him.

Eventually, Yoongi took Jimin to campus and sat in the music room for an hour working on the project for their final. Yoongi could read Jimin’s expression, knowing that he was stressed being this far from the apartment, but he gave his hand a comforting squeeze, reminding him that they were safe.

Yoongi on the other hand, stood in a bathroom every day and added one more compliment to his existing list of things he loved about himself. One day, when he told his reflection that he loved how pathetic his face was, there was a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. From then, it got easier for him to stare into his own eyes.

But what Yoongi struggled to accept was that painfully mushy, weird feeling in his chest whenever he laid his eyes on Jimin. It grew worse every time they came face to face but he tried his absolute hardest to ignore it. There was no reason he needed to confront Jimin about it. There was no reason he needed to accept the cold, hard reality that he utterly and completely fell for him if Jimin wasn’t going to feel the same.

Right?

“Here’s your tea.” Yoongi set down the pen after busily scratching music notes on the lined paper, struggling to find inspiration for a composition, and collected the mug from Jimin. They were at it nearly the entire day; the music sheet was due tomorrow, ending the semester with their biggest final project yet.

Jimin sat closely beside him, almost too close to send Yoongi’s heart racing, but he never complained. “How much more do you need to write? We got about two minutes down, right?”

“We need to add three more minutes, this could take us all night.  ” Yoongi groaned, massaging his temples, praying that his slowly growing headache would go away.

“Can’t we take a break?” Jimin whined. “I’ve been playing the piano for hours, my fingers are tired.” Yoongi watched as Jimin begged with a pouty face. He thanked himself that Jimin couldn’t see him frowning, turning his head away from him. After the phone call he received yesterday, he struggled to focus on the task at hand.

“Mom? Why are you calling?”  

“Hello Yoongi, can’t your mother call just to check up on you?”

“There’s usually something you need from me. What do you want?” Yoongi replied bitterly, wanting her to get to the point. His relationship with his parents wasn’t exactly the strongest thing in the world. They fought and and disagreed on a lot of his personal choice and opinions on things growing up. He wanted to major in music, they argued that it was an unrealistic career and suggested that he’d get into a medical school instead because it was his father’s dream that he could never accomplish. Now he was stuck in a business room for hours a day with a suit and briefcase, filing papers and attending meetings. Yoongi promised himself that he’d leave for a university in Seoul as soon as he got accepted and pursue his dreams.

But it wasn’t as easy as he thought. His parents kicked him into a medical school for the past three years, but when Yoongi finally cracked from the stress, he ran away to Seoul, secretly applied to a different university and changed his major. He hadn’t spoken to his parents since then.

“You need to come back home.” His mother stated coldly. “Your father had fallen ill and cannot take care of the financial situation. We need you to come home and take over his job.”

His face grew pale. “You really think I’m just going to drop everything, my dreams and my future just to go back to Daegu and trap myself in his little business cubicle? Why can’t you just ask your favorite older son to do it for you? He still lives with you.”

“Your brother went off to the military last month, honey.”

“What? He went to the military and you didn’t bother to tell me?” Yoongi’s voice rose in anger.

“We tried calling you but you kept ignoring all of our calls. We had no choice but to send him off without you.” Yoongi didn’t reply, his mouth forming a thin line. “Anyway, you don’t have much of a choice Yoongi. I’ve already notified your university that you’ll be taking a break for a while. We need you back here in a month or I’m cutting off your sources. You know I have my connections. I’ll mail you the train tickets.”

“You did what ?” Now Yoongi was angry, very angry. The line went dead and Yoongi redialed the number, waiting for her to answer. Instead, it went straight to her voicemail. With an angry shout, Yoongi tossed the phone on the bed and paced across his bedroom.

She was going to cut off his money, make him lose his own place if he didn’t return. His mom even dropped him out of university. How the hell did she even find out where he went to?

Yoongi’s mother was a person he truly feared, if he had to pick anyone. She made connections with so many people, she knew how to control just about anyone and make them bow to their knees for her. Yoongi never spoke about about his family to Jimin, but it was best if he remained that way.

The less he thought about his family, the better off he was.

“We don’t really have the time to take a break, Jimin.”

“Come on, please? Let’s dance again! I missed dancing!” Jimin bolted up from the floor, grabbing Yoongi’s hands. “Put on a song, any song.” Rolling his eyes, Yoongi gave in and took out his phone, putting it on shuffle. The battery was dying, he noticed, four percent. “Okay, we’re only doing it until the phone dies, and then it’s back to work.”

“Deal!” Jimin squealed as a pop song came on, dancing and stomping across living room in pure joy. “Come on Yoongi!” He held his arms out, waiting for the figure to approach him. With a laugh, Yoongi watched in admiration as he happily bounced across the living room before striding up to Jimin, breaking out into the most embarrassing dance he could think of. Thankfully, Jimin couldn’t see it, but he still laughed at him anyway. “I never knew you had it in you, Yoongi.”

“Oh you shut up.” Yoongi playfully scowled, growing out of breath from the sudden burst of energy he didn’t think he had. The song eventually ended, automatically playing the next one that happened to be a classical. As of on cue, Yoongi slung an arm around Jimin’s lower back, taking his hand with the other. Grinning, Yoongi smiled as he watch Jimin’s eyes turn into crescents and slowly swayed their bodies across the apartment, step by step.

Yoongi wanted to curse at himself. His hands were clammy and his heart was pounding. He was so close to Jimin, too close. But at the same time, he just wanted to stand there and hold him forever, his arms wrapped around him, his nose nuzzled into his pumpkin hair. Just having Jimin entirely to himself. Did that make him greedy?

“Thank you.” Jimin suddenly blurted.

“What for?”

“Everything.” He began. “For helping me get over my fears, for trying to understand me. You came over almost every day after the first Saturday you saw me and made sure I wasn’t lonely or never hurt myself although I know my way around the apartment like the back of my hand.” They took a few steps forwards, a few more backwards. Their bodies danced in sync as if they were one. “You’ve helped me improve faster in the past semester than the two whole years it took me to do it on my own. So, thank you, Min Yoongi.”

“Oh well, I was just…you’re welcome.” He didn’t know what else he could say, he was too engrossed in staring into his colorless eyes that never looked right into Yoongi’s. The song came to an abrupt end, assuming the phone must have died, but they stopped dancing long before that.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asked, observing Jimin’s unusual gesture. He was dead silent, his face making the strangest expression that was neither fear nor confusion. His eyes grew big, his jaw clenched tightly. It seemed as if he was having an internal debate of some sort. Yoongi leaned closer, their noses inches away as he lightly shook his shoulder. “Jimin?”

There was no warning. Jimin quickly leaned forward, his eyes closed as he gently pressed his lips against Yoongi’s. He didn’t quite make it, as he got the corner of his mouth, but it was only for a short moment. Yoongi responded with widened eyes in surprise as Jimin bit his lip nervously, his ears growing red.

“Why are you so quiet?” Jimin asked nervously. “What are you thinking? Should I have not done that? I’m sorry. I don’t know what was thinking. I won’t do it again.”

“No, Jimin, I-“ He was abruptly cut off by the ringing of the phone in Jimin’s pocket.

“Sorry, I gotta get this.” He pulled it out and answered it with a light greeting. “Yes, this is Jimin.” He nodded into the phone for a few moments until his expression froze in shock, his face slowly turning pale. “What did you just say?”