#SVT X Harry's House

[milfgyuu]

Satellite  Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x Fem!Reader Series: Svt x Harry’s House Tags: 3.1k, Complicated Lovers, Angst, Comfort. Warnings: Rated PG-13. Mostly angst in this piece, mc is a hot mess (non-descript familial, health, financial issues) and highly self-critical, brief nudity but no explicit content. Summary: Wonwoo is tending the bar on a stormy summer evening when you walk back into his life and though he’s been patiently allowing you the space to work things out on your own - he’s not sure he can watch you walk right back out that door again.

The bar is quiet today and Wonwoo could not be happier to spend his time cleaning glasses, restocking, and watching the rain outside the tall glass windows. 

It had been pouring all afternoon and well into the evening which either drove folks inside or kept them home and today seemed to be the latter. The few patrons he had were easy keepers and so he minded his workspace - meticulously scrubbing and polishing. 

Something to keep his hands busy to pass the time.

A sudden rush of sound enters the quiet space signifying another arrival. Wonwoo glances up with a generic greeting on his tongue but quickly notices you’ve come without an umbrella and are soaked to the bone. That much he can tell even as you’re facing away, cursing at your reflection in the door so instead of waiting, he takes off to the supply closet to search of a few handtowels to dry yourself a bit.

The tiny room is a mess, of course, but he manages to find a few clean towels and vows to restructure this dysfunctional system another day.

He almost walks right past you, having found the corner seat far from everyone else, but there is a slight sniffle and he turns on heels to follow the sound finding his mystery patron shivering and dripping water onto his clean bartop. His words fail him at the sight because it’s a rather pitiful one.

Your suit jacket is soaked through, your hair is slick and dripping from the ends, and your chin is tucked in defeat like you’ve been dealt a poor hand over and over and this is just the final straw. Like all of the fire and fight you had left had been smothered once and for all. He takes a tentative step forward and then you raise your head. Meeting his eyes, he’s now convinced require another exam, he is sure there is no way you’re looking back at him.

Your name is heard through a whisper of disbelief and your shoulders hike up, spine going ramrod straight. Of all the bars, restaurants, and cafes along this street surely you could have chosen somewhere know one would recognize you but instead you look back at the one person you hadn’t ever been able to fool. The one person you could not hide the truth from no matter how hard you tried.

Someone you ran from if only to save him from the disaster that is you.

“Wonwoo,” you quickly clear your throat and throw on a fake smile, “Hi.”

Its been four months since you disappeared and yet he doesn’t appear enraged or flood you with questions even though all you offer is ‘Hi’. He doesn’t bring up the fight that you started and subsequently walked out on the last night you were together. The night you finally realized you had to let him go before you hurt him anymore than you already have.

He instead pushes the towels into your hands and sputters his thoughts allowed, “I think I’ve got a towel and extra clothes in my gym bag in the car…give me a min-”

Wonwoo looks down at the hand suddenly clasped over his for a moment and then up at your soft stare. “It’s okay, really, you don’t need to do that for me.”

His brows furrow because of course he does and he will but again, you squeeze his hand. “Wonwoo,” you repeat slowly and it aches just to say his name again, “Don’t worry about it. Its okay.”

Wonwoo bites his lip and concedes, as usual. He slips his hand from your grip slowly, “Let me get you a drink at least.”

You nod and he doesn’t ask what you want, he already knows. 

The shame that’s always sat heavily in your gut eats away at you as you watch him pour. A man that you’ve so selfishly loved since the moment you met him, Wonwoo has picked you up and put you back to together too many times to look at him now without the guilt of everything you’ve put him through threatening to tear you apart.

He sets the glass down and slides it across the bar toward you. Pulling it into your grip weakly, you just look down at the liquid with regret.

Wonwoo misreads the action and fusses with his glasses. “I probably should have asked what you wanted. I’m sorry I assum-”

“No! This is good!” you reassure him, taking a hardy sip from the glass - hardly wincing at the burn in your throat. Nothing is more painful than lying to him. “Everything is…good. I’m really happy to see you! You’ve obviously left the old bar near campus.”

He rests a hand on the counter, settling against it. “Not really my scene anymore.”

“Of course not,” you smile softly, shrugging out of your wet coat. 

This place is so perfectly Wonwoo. It’s quiet and warm - comforting. 

Wonwoo is frowning when you settle back into your seat and look up at him. You know its because you’re a wreck and your hand automatically reaches for your drink, downing another unsavory gulp to deal with your inherent urge to let him take care of you. The heat remains in your throat this time and makes speaking nearly unbearable. 

“How, um…how have you been?” you try. Its better to focus on him. 

Wonwoo just shrugs though. “I don’t do much - you know me. I come to work and I go home. Not much keeping me busy these days.”

You’re not sure how to take that last bit but his face is open and honest as always. No underlying accusations even though you know how ‘busy’ you kept him. Running to him first with every problem in your life, hanging onto him for support like a lifeline, slowly sinking him like a sailor on a ship with too many holes in the hull to patch. 

Taking and taking and taking with nothing to give in return. 

You muster some sort of wry smile though it feels like a grimace. “Sounds peaceful.”

“Maybe,” he glances down, “It’s a little too quiet for me though.”

Just then the door opens and both your eyes flit in the direction of the incoming patrons. 

Wonwoo hesitates for a moment like he knows how easily you could disappear again but you encourage him, grip tight on your glass, and whisper, “Its ok, go.”

Still he lingers for a moment and then walks to the other side of the bar.

You watch him, weary of being caught, but its so good to see him - to be near him.

It feels greedy to take in the sight of him, to think about how much you’ve missed Wonwoo because you know you can’t think about it without breaking down and it’s your fault in the first place. You left him, not the other way around.

You miss his gentle hands and soothing voice. You miss the way he’d hug you and hold you for however long you needed and then some. You miss the way he made all the big things in life seem so very small and powerless when they loomed over you.

Wonwoo was…love, and warmth, and shelter from the storm but one day you realized you were the storm and coudn’t bear to keep dragging him through the muddied path you followed. Life was cruel but to hold onto Wonwoo was crueler. 

Across the bar, Wonwoo notices the way you’re staring down at the counter, swirling the contents of your drink without really touching it. He can feel your anguish like a knife in his chest, he always could, but it twists painfully knowing you won’t let him help. 

Boundaries. That’s what tethers him. Ones you put in place and held the line so furiociously he hadn’t dare crossed it in fear of losing you for once and all.

Instead he hovers like a satellite in your universe waiting for you to let him back in the way you both so desperately need. However long it may take. Months…years…he doesn’t care. He will wait right here for you forever.

He just hopes and prays it comes sooner than later. Neither of you seem to fair well without the other.

A loud crack of thunder rumbles through the bar and Wonwoo is thankful for the ongoing storm that drove you inside, hoping it might keep you here longer.

Unfortunately, it brings in more of a crowd than he’d been expectating and it left him running around cleaning and serving drinks instead of talking to you but he’s always watching - waiting for you to run.

You don’t though and Wonwoo’s ache eases a little at your close proximity. At the fact that you’re only a few feet away. Safe, he thinks. You’re safe while you’re in here with him, even if you offer nothing more than false smiles and small talk. Here he can make you laugh and tell its genuine. Here he can care for you in the only way you’ll let him - in only the ways you deem safe, for him.

Shortly after two drinks, you switched to something non-alcoholic and with the storm raging on outside, you stayed put long enough to mostly dry your clothes and sober right back up. Even liquor couldn’t quite keep a hold on you.

You keep yourself busy either quietly conversing with Wonwoo when he was free or watching him work when he’s busy. Mentally catalogging each image of him, every word spoken in his deep, familiar voice. Filing it away for the inevitable plummet when you leave him again.

Nearly eleven o’clock you notice people filing out of the bar, back into the rain. Each minute passes and more people gather up and head out until you’re alone, glancing around like someone else might be lingering much like you are. 

Wonwoo dutifully wipes down all the tables and says goodnight to his co-worker, letting him know he can close up by himself at this point and panic floods your viens. You quickly gather your things and Wonwoo turns to you curiously. Seeing your bag strap looped over your shoulder, his heart drops.

“You can stay,” he says quickly emptying his hands, “It’ll just take me a few minutes to lock up and it’s pouring still.”

You smile sadly, shaking your head. “Don’t worry about me,” you urge, putting more space between you, “It was good to see you.”

“Wait,” he attempts to maneuver the counter but you’re so close to the door, “When can I see you again?”

You grip the door handle so tightly it cuts into your hand.

“I don’t…I don’t know. This wasn’t…seeing you tonight wasn’t supposed to happen.”

You quickly glance down at the floor, the pain in his face so open and obvious.

“At least let me drive you home,” he pleads but each step closer has you wrenching the door open, “Please, I just want to make sure you make it home safely.”

You can’t. You cannot even look at him.

You don’t even have a home right now and he doesn’t need to know that. He needs to stay here and forget about you. “I can take the bus,” you argue, “I’ll be fine. I’ve been fine, Wonwoo.”

You’re a liar and a coward.

Wonwoo looks helpless when you take a step out of the door and he can only whisper another desperate, “Please,” before you look back at him.

“Goodbye, Wonwoo.”

And you’re gone.

Hot tears streak down your face as you battle the onslaught of rain, thick droplets pelting your body as you run across the street. The bus stop is still a little ways away but you slow your steps, using the rain as camouflage to let yourself fall apart. There isn’t a soul on the streets and you let the emptiness swallow you whole until your knees are buckling, threatening to sink you into a puddle and let you drown.

Thats when you hear it.

A voice in the distance, strained and restless, calling out your name.

You turn to find Wonwoo running after you and another choked sob falls from your lips as you call back to him. “What are you doing?!”

Like a magnetic force, you close the distance between you and he grabs both your arms, dragging you against his chest. “Don’t leave again,” he shouts over the volume of the storm and adrenaline thumping in your ears, “Don’t walk away from me, please.”

Sorrow grips your heart in a vice, squeezing the last bits of light from you.

“You should be the one walking away from me! Don’t you get it?!” 

You grit your teeth so angry at the way emotion chops your words up when you’re begging him to understand. “I’m like poison, Wonwoo! My life is misery, and pain, and endless fucking disaster! Why can’t you see that? Why would you want me? I’m a broken, angry, selfish person. Why won’t you let me save you from me?!”

The last sentence hardly makes it out because Wonwoo’s lips crash against yours. He kisses you tenderly but with a firmness that tells you he won’t go. He won’t leave and let you crash and burn on your own. Cold, wet hands cradle your face, so gently, and make their way down to your shoulders and the middle of your back, anything he can do to keep you anchored right here in his arms. 

He kisses you in the rain for what feels like forever and you chase him when he pulls away for air because you’ve spiraled so far out of control you’re not sure how to bring yourself back to reality. You’re easily reconnected because he doesn’t care that its pouring and you’re both drenched. He doesn’t care that he’ll probably be sick tomorrow because he’s needed this, needed you, for so long now.

You tremble under his touch, fingers gripping and twisting into his shirt, holding him close. 

With his forehead rested against yours, he tries to shield you from the rain.

“Come back inside with me,” he pants, “We’re going home.”

You try to shake your head, pleading with him to let you go but he tightens his grip and stares back at you. “I’m not asking anymore,” he says resolutely, “I love you and we’re going back home, together.”

A fresh sob springs from your throat at the memory of home. 

He moves slowly as he takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together, and begins pulling you back toward the bar. You follow him, no energy or willpower to pull your hand from his and do the right thing. To spare him from inevitable heartbreak.

Wonwoo doesn’t let go of you once as he pulls you back inside, locking the front doors behind you. You follow him in silence as he flicks off lights and leads you out the back door, still working with only one hand to lock up and then he’s opening the passenger door to his car and you’re slipping inside. 

When he gets into the driver’s seat, he turns on the heat and then takes your hand again, holding it the entire fifteen minute drive back to his apartment.

What was once also your apartment.

Pushing inside the front door, you notice it looks exactly the same. As if time froze the moment you walked out and only the sound of the door shutting and locking behind you allowed it to resume. 

Wonwoo stands behind you, waiting for you to move or speak but when you can’t seem to do either, he takes your hand and you look up at him - conflicting emotions so evident on your face - and he guides you back into the bedroom and adjoining bathroom to start the shower because you’re both still soaked and you haven’t stopped shaking. 

“Come on,” he urges gently, “Let’s warm you up.”

Numb physically and emotionally, you don’t react when Wonwoo carefully begins removing your clothing and his, tossing them into the corner. He sticks his hand under the water and adjusts the temperature before walking you inside closest to the spray. You stand there motionless, staring at a spot over his shoulder as he reaches up to wash your hair quietly.

Everything is fuzzy and out of focus until your vision shifts to find a small freckle on his collarbones and it’s then that you finally speak. “Aren’t you tired of this?”

It’s not a question about his physical state and he knows this. He knows what you mean. 

‘Aren’t you tired of me?’

Wonwoo hums to himself, shaking his head and rinsing soap from your shoulders as he looks down at you. “Aren’t you, though?” he asks, stroking his thumbs against your skin, “The weight you’re trying to carry alone is crushing you - I know you’re exhausted.”

You are exhausted in every way, shape, and form. 

Your familial trauma and responsibilities, your failing career, your health, and the endless debt that keeps growing with each day - it’s killing you.

With another crackling sob, you fall against his chest, wrapping your arms around his bare torso until your fingernails dig into the soft skin of his back slightly. He tucks you in closer, bracing your trembling body against his own with one hand cradling the back of your head and the other rubbing your back as the showerhead continues warming you both.

“Allowing me to shoulder a little bit of your burdens will not hurt me,” he says softly, “I am tired of silence. I am tired of going to sleep and waking up in an empty bed. I am tired of watching you struggle to do it all alone with a fake smile to hide your pain but I am never tired of you.”

“Look at me,” he says after a moment and you pull yourself off his chest to meet his gentle eyes. “I’ve been waiting every single day of the last four months for you to come home. You told me to give you space and I’ve done all I can to stay and be patient, wait for you to finally let me in, but I am terrified that day may never come.”

“Wonwoo…”

He presses your foreheads together and lets out a shaky breath.

“I am begging,” he whispers painfully, “Let me love you. Let me help you.”

“Please.”

“I’m sorry,” you kiss him, “I’m so sorry for leaving.”

“I know,” he whispers back, kissing your lips and then the space between your eyes, “Just stay with me, okay? Come home and we’ll get through it together.”

Wonwoo has never once lied to you and you’re nodding before you can even form words but that’s all he needs as reassurance that in in the very least, you won’t slip from his arms and disapear in the middle of the night. He’d hold onto you until the sun rose and if you told him you weren’t ready, he’d wait but he hopes you’ll stay. 

Forever and a day could go by and he’d still be waiting for you.

Thanks for reading! 💗

SVT M.List | Main M.List |

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfguu, 2019. ©️

[halaxia]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。 about me !

hi i’m leena!! here are some things about me :)

not what you were looking for?

➛ 18

➛ she/her

➛ i’m south asian

➛ my mbti is enfj

➛ main blog is @thusspokeleena :D

— likes !

╰┈➤ warm summer nights, quiet cafés, crochet, nature, fireworks, doing my makeup in the middle of the night, writing angst, flowers, art, cats, crisp autumn days, driving with the sunroof open, a good midday nap.

➛ animanga : attack on titan, jujutsu kaisen, bleach, death note, vinland saga, jjba, ohshc, demon slayer, csm, spy x family, hxh, ghibli, your name, suzume, life lessons with uramichi oniisan, bsd, tokyo ghoul, blood on the tracks, whatever else i’m missing lol.

➛ artists: frank ocean, mitski, lorde, sza, brent faiyaz, kendrick lamar, my chemical romance, beabadoobee, taylor swift, deftones, tyler, the creator, paramore, the weeknd, the nbhd, billie eilish, kali uchis, conan gray, harry styles, mac miller, omar apollo, radiohead, etc.

➛ kpop: shinee, bts, ateez, bigbang, 2ne1, newjeans, tvxq!, enhypen, stray kids, red velvet, svt, wave to earth, colde, zb1, aespa.

— what am i up to?

➛ watching: the fall of the house of usher

➛ reading: fire and blood by george r. r. martin

➛ listening to: misty by nct 127

➛ thinking about: finals :,)

[daegutowns]

hi jay!! how are you??

so i reread the svt x harry potter fanfic you wrote (so well written<3)

may i please request gryffindor!chan x reader? im a slytherin but i'd like if you'd keep the reader's house anonymous. and again, no pressure. you can ignore this if you want :)

-strnsvt

hiii jiya !!!

u know i luv u from the bottom of my heart! as promised, here is your gryffindor!chan with an anonymous house reader here

i'm a hufflepuff (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[certifiedmarkleetrash]

songs that make me feel like a main character (includes kpop)

*I made this playlist on spotify, I know I could link it, but I know some of these songs do not tickle everyone’s fancy. ALSO, I listen to a wide range of music (kpop, pop, rock, etc., so its kind of everywhere*

*added the Spotify link*

Please feel free to suggest songs that make you feel like a main character, I would love to listen to them!

I may or may not get some of these songs off of tik tok and if you work at Aeropostale, you might recognize a lot of these songs

I will add new songs too!

Girls in Bikinis - Poppy

12345SEX- UPSAHL

Zombie (English Ver.) - DAY6

Afraid -DAY6

1 to 10 - DAY6

Love me or Leave me - DAY6

Day and Night - DAY6

Stay Tonight - Chungha

Lies - Will Jay

Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

Electric Love - BORNS (yes I know the dude is problematic but this song is a main character bop)

Dark Paradise (Parov Stelar Remix) - Lana Del Rey, Parov Stelar

Wildflower - 5SOS

No Shame - 5SOS

Role Model - Phoenix

On My Own - 3LAU, Nevve

In Degrees - Foals

No Going Back - Yuno

Fading Youth - Punctual

Maybe You’re the Reason - The Japanese House

The Hype - LEISURE

All For Us - Labrinth, Zendaya

Sundress - A$AP Rocky

Dang! - Mac Miller, Anderson .Paak

Ladders - Mac Miller

Best Friend - Sofi Tukker, NERVO, The Knocks, et al.

Swan Song - Dua Lipa

Rocket Girl - Lemaitre, Betty Who

Graffiti - CHVRCHES

I Think I’m OKAY - Machine Gun Kelly, YUNGBLUD, Travis Barker

So What - LOONA

Blinding Lights - The Weeknd

Sexy, Free & Single - Super Junior

The Chaser - INFINITE

Treat People With Kindness - Harry Styles

That’s The Way It Is - Daniel Lanois

She - Harry Styles

To Be So Lonely - Harry Styles

Falling - Harry Styles

Psycho - Red Velvet

Adore You - Harry Styles

Watermelon Sugar - Harry Styles

Golden - Harry Styles

But, Honestly - Foo Fighters

Spark - Taeyeon

365247 - DAY6

Deep In Love - DAY6

It’s Okay To Cry - SOPHIE

Lights Up - Harry Styles

My Body - Young the Giant

False God - Taylor Swift

I Forgot That You Existed - Taylor Swift

Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince - Taylor Swift

The Archer - Taylor Swift

WHO DO U LOVE? - Monsta X, French Montana

FACE - Woosung

Best Part - DAY6

Wanna Go Back  - DAY6

Time of Our Life - DAY6

Awkward Silence - Stray Kids

Illusion - ATEEZ

CROOKED - GDRAGON

Don’t Need Your Love - NCT Dream, HRVY

ME - CLC

gogobebe - Mamamoo

Bon Bon Chocolat - EVERGLOW

Photograph - Def Leppard 

Butterfly - LOONA

WANT - Taemin (bop of 2019, fight me)

We Must Love - ONF (stan ONF you cowards)

Youth of the Nation - P.O.D.

Don’t Blame Me - Taylor Swift

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

Sassy Me - Red Velvet 

My My My! - Troye Sivan 

Anybody Out There - Young Mister

Bloom - Troye Sivan

Shout - Tears For Fears

We Are The World - U.S.A. For Africa (can we do a reprise of this for the pandemic PLEASE)

Hysteria - Def Leppard

Livin’ On A Prayer - Bon Jovi

Don’t You (Forget About Me) - Simple Minds

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic - The Police

Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Tears For Fears

Woman - BoA

Replay (PM 01:27) - NCT 127

1, 2. 3! - Seungri (I hate you seungri, rot in prison, I also hate you put a bop this good)

SEE SEA - Hyolyn

NANANA - IMFACT

I’m Not Afraid - Holland (stan Holland YOU COWARDS)

BLUE MOON - Kyeongri

1, 2, 3 - NCT Dream

Beautiful Feeling - DAY6

Naughty Boy - PENTAGON (okay but who else cried rtk ep 3)

Seesaw - Suga of BTS

Euphoria - Jungkook of BTS

HANN (Alone) - (G)-IDLE

Youngblood - 5SOS

Now or Never - SF9 (bop of 2018 I will fight you on this)

Taking Off - ONE OK ROCK

What’s Good - SVT Rap Unit

Take What You Want - ONE OK ROCK, 5SOS

SUNSET - Kim Donghan

Better Better - DAY6

Feeling Good - DAY6

We Are - ONE OK ROCK

Something New - Taeyeon

Forever Young - BLACKPINK

Take Me Higher - A.C.E.

Spotlight - Pristin V

Good Evening - SHINee

Needing/Getting - OK Go

This Too Shall Pass - OK Go

Call Your Name - JBJ

Trigger - VIXX

Shine - Pentagon (okay but also bop of 2018, and ptg should of gotten their first win with this song, ROBBED)

Egoist - Olivia Hye of LOONA, Jinsoul of LOONA

LIKEY - Twice

I Wait - DAY6

I Smile - DAY6

I Loved You - DAY6

INTRO: Neo Got My Back - NCT

BOSS - NCT U

THANKS - Seventeen

Bad Boy - Red Velvet

LOVE SCENARIO - iKON

Take The Dive - Jonghyun

Heroine - Sunmi

Greedy - Ariana Grande

She Is - Jonghyun

Born Hater - Epik High, Beenzino, Verbal Jint, et al.

Run Away With Me - Carly Rae Jepsen

new - Yves of LOONA

I Just - Red Velvet

Crazy Sexy Cool - ASTRO

Callin’ - A.C.E.

ON/OFF - ONF (stan [and I cannot emphasize this enough] ONF you cOwArDs)

I’M THE ONE - MXM

MOVE - Taemin

Sting - Stellar

You & I - One Direction

Ride - Lana Del Rey 

Pied Piper - BTS

Like This - Pentagon

Don’t Know You - HEIZE

LOVE ME LOVE ME - WINNER

Story of My Life - One Direction

Act My Age - One Direction

Clouds - One Direction

Night Changes - One Direction

Girl Almighty - One Direction

Don’t Hold Me - DMEANOR, Swings

What U Do? - EXO

You Better Know - Red Velvet

View - SHINee

Singing In The Rain - Jinsoul of LOONA

Long Road to Ruin - Foo Fighters

My Hero - Foo Fighters

Will - Jeong Jinwoon, Tiger JK

Really Really - WINNER

I - Taeyeon, Verbal Jint

Why - Taeyeon

WAKE ME UP - B.A.P.

I Got Love - Taeyeon

Deepened - Brave Girls

Learn to Fly - Foo Fighters

Walk - Foo Fighters

Everlong - Foo Fighters

Into the New World - SNSD

Wheels - Foo Fighters

Come on Get Higher - Matt Nathanson

Wonderwall - Oasis

Alone - Heart 

Home Sweet Home - Motley Crue

God is a woman - Ariana Grande

Maker - Big Wild

Me and Michael - MGMT

Are You Bored Yet? - Wallows, Clairo

God’s Menu - Stray Kids

fever dream - mxmtoon

Prom Queen - Beach Bunny

Close - Nick Jonas, Tove Lo

[hansolmates]

junhui; you must be magical, because i've fallen under your spell

summary; there was something about gryffindors that unsettled him greatly.

pairing; slytherin!junhui x gryffindor fem!reader 

genre/warnings: hp!au, yule ball!au, fluff!! jun’s a dumb boy

w/c; 2k

a/n; if it were possible to separate the masterpiece that is harry potter and jk rowling, we would. the only jk we stan in jeon jungkook but anyway!! this fic has been sitting in my drive for 3!! years!!! enjoy this belated bday present to our favorite golden bean. enjoy! please share if you like it 

more in the SVT!hogwarts au: vernon, mingyu, jihoon 

“No.”

“C’mon. Just be my partner, it’ll be totally wicked. We’re the best dancers on the team. We can even break heteronormativity if you wanna put it that way.” 

“That’s not the point.” Minghao grumbled, throwing his dirty practice gear over his shoulder. “We told you to find a partner before the next practice. All you’ve done is complain to me about how awful everyone else is. Is there really not one girl or boy in Slytherin that you can partner up with?” 

Junhui’s bark eyes glazed lazily over the pitch, as if there would be random students just lying around during early morning practice. The weather was definitively awful today, with depressingly muted grey clouds and no trace of the sun ever grazing its presence on campus. He rocked his bat back and forth, letting it bounce on his thigh as they exited the field and neared the viaduct. “There really isn’t,” he drolled, looking disinterested, “I hate all of them.” 

“Awh c’mon, you really don’t mean that.”

“Oh, I do. They’re awful.”

“But—”

“No. Please stop trying.” 

Minghao took an abrupt turn at the end of the cobblestoned viaduct, in the team room where most of the members were off to their own devices. Team Hogwarts was doing relatively well in terms of team relationships, so far there were no petty fights over house competition because their school pride against other schools was currently taking precedence. Junhui was being petty, he knew it. But his pride was his mantle, and if that couldn’t hold him together, he might as well crash and burn down the pitch. 

Minghao started to grumble unintelligibly under his breath, ripping off his blazer and shoving it to one side of his training bag. He looked visibly angry, and Junhui could understand that. Being on Team Hogwarts was stressful enough, and having a friend like him who was heatedly intolerable was just icing on the cake. 

“I know someone who can be your partner,” Minghao finally said, looking away, “She can pick up dances quickly. But you gotta promise me you’ll be nice to her.” 

“Me? Nice? I’m the nicest person you could possibly meet.” Junhui replied loftily, giving a lazy smirk as he relaxed against the bench. “I’ll treat her like a princess if she’s as good as a dancer as you claim she is.” 

“Even if she’s a Gryffindor?” 

“Even if she’s a—” his jaw dropped, and he sat straight, his aloof facade shattered just enough for him to sputter out of control. His beater’s bat slipped like butter from his grasp, causing it to echo throughout the room and multiple members to look at the pair strangely. He ignored all of them like a grain of sand. “Seriously? A Gryffindor?”

“I’m a Gryffindor. What are you trying to say?” 

“I’m saying. It’s fine if pretty boy Chwe wants to go prance around with his stuffy bookworm, that’s expected. But when was the last time you saw a Gryffindor and Slytherin kill it on the dancefloor?” 

“I’m taking a Gryffindor,” Jihoon said levelly, looking over them from the side of the bench. His posture was slumped, his hair windswept and his cheeks kissed with a strawberry red from the nippy weather. He was already in his school robes, tucking in the collar of his emerald knit so it would settle nicely. Running a hand through his sandy locks, he brushed up to them, taking no shame into walking into their conversation. 

Jihoon had a tendency to flit in and out whenever he pleased, and for whatever reason people still liked Jihoon, something that irked Junhui incessantly. But he never dared to ask, considering Jihoon’s own brand of confidence was something to be desired. “But I also like this person a lot, I don’t care that she’s a Gryffindor. So just swallow your pride and be lucky that someone is willing to help you out, especially last minute.”

“Well,” Minghao looked away sheepishly, trying to save face, “she hasn’t exactly said yes yet. I haven’t even asked her, but there’s no reason why she wouldn’t say no.” 

“Alright. Hopefully she says yes then.” Junhui finally said, giving Minghao a small smile. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders, giving a firm squeeze. “Thank you.” 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Jihoon give an inkling of a grin, before turning around and walking back. 

“Thank you for giving people a chance.” Minghao replied genuinely, squeezing Junhui’s shoulders once before changing into his own robes. 

Junhui was nervous. He was nervous and shy and worried that this was going to all be messed up and risk getting kicked off the team. Minghao told him once they entered the practice room, the Great Hall, that his partner would be a little late. It was understandable, it was a last minute thing and he could totally fault himself for that. 

He had to play it cool, he had to. He already brought himself thus far, making it onto the team, and playing it off like it was no big deal. But it was work, all of it. Even the little things like this, dancing some five minute routine for the entire campus to see. There was nothing else he could hold onto at this point, everyone else was partnered up in the room (except Mingyu Kim, but no one else seemed to notice since he was never around) and now he was just left to fidget until you showed up. 

“Where’s your partner, Junhui?” Soonyoung walked up to him, all up in his face, and Junhui fought the urge to push the co-captain back. Soonyoung was wearing Muggle athletic wear, the one with the strangely thin fabric and pants that were too loose at the top and fitted at the bottom. What did Soonyoung think they were, a Muggle boy band? “We’re about to start.” 

“Oh well, she's—”

“Here! Sorry I'm late!” your voice echoed throughout the Great Hall, padding down the linoleum like wildfire. You, a young lady in gold and red dropped her things on one of the dining tables, and surprise surprise, you were dressed exactly like Soonyoung. Your body was a blur as you ripped off your robes, revealing a complete and utter lack of clothing that had Junhui’s gaze burn scarlet. Tight black shorts that ribboned across your thighs, and a white athletic t-shirt that had the same silky material as the Gryffindor captain. 

Soonyoung’s face lit up like the morning sun, his face comparable to diamonds as you bounded  up next to him. He made a show of it, putting his thumb and forefinger together as if he were taking a photograph of the pair. “Wait, seriously?” he balked, and Junhui grew annoyed at how delighted the hyper kid was being. “Oh Junhui you have the best partner.” 

Junhui scrunched his nose, uncomfortable that Soonyoung wanted to be all chummy now that he was doing the right thing. Biting the inside of his lip, he turned to you, who offered him a small smile and an outstretch of a hand. 

He blinked. Oh, you’re gorgeous. 

And when he took her hand and gave a firm squeeze in reply, he could’ve sworn he felt you. That strange, red crackling fire that so many of them seemed to emanate like it was the newest trend, but it was all-encompassing and so definitively you, that he hated to admit he was aching for more. “I’m Junhui Wen.” he drawled, tilting his head to meet his cocoa eyes to yours. 

“I know who you are,” you replied immediately, the subtle jab in your tone pinning him to the floor like it was a glass stake. There was an energy in your gaze, the curious light that was making Junhui spellbound. “We have a bunch of classes together. Divination? Alchemy? Muggle Studies?” 

He could only stare at you, struck. His smirk from ten seconds ago descended in a downward spiral, realizing that wow, he had no comeback for that. It was downright a sin not to notice you all this time, and you were rightfully calling him out on it. Points to the Gryffindor, indeed. 

Gryffindor’s always intimidated him, a secret only a select few has picked up on. His parents were good people, always telling him that confidence is key and he should strive to be more like them. So, he tried. He’s cocky, for sure. A little shit? Definitely. But it’s different when righteousness slaps in the face, a reminder that there’s goodness in his heart and a strive to do better. 

Thankfully (the first and last time Junhui would ever be thankful to Soonyoung) practice had already started and you were late. He felt the grip of your small palm, and you smack his hand to your waist. Is it bad how much he thought how perfect it felt? How he wanted to hold you in his arms forever—

“At this rate,” you cut dryly, voice loud enough for only you two to hear, “we’ll be a centerpiece because you’re not moving a damn inch. Merlin, do you need me to lead?” 

“Oh,” it’s only then Junhui realized that his friends were dancing circles around them, and he’s messed up the formation, “sorry.” 

You two finally step into the piece, thankful that Junhui had quick reflexes. To his chagrin, you’re not too bad yourself. Despite the lightning on your tongue, you held yourself with grace, following him across the floor as if you were floating. Soonyoung was right, he did snatch up the best partner. He owes Minghao a barrel of butterbeer. 

“Hey,” you hummed, voice blending wonderfully between the enchanted piano. “Minghao told me a little about you.”

“All good things, I’m hoping.” 

You snorted, tilting your head so it brushed against his robes. “Maybe. Said that Gryffindors make you nervous.” 

He scoffed, “No, that’s not true.” 

“So, I don’t make you nervous?” 

Whether Junhui said yes or no, he knew that both answers would be wrong. He could tell how much you knew, how easy it was to rile him up. Sweat was clinging to his palms, probably hot and sticky against your thin muggle t-shirt that clings deliciously to your waist (he takes it back, he takes it back! Muggle clothing is wonderful.)

“Whatever you’re trying to do,” he murmured, leaning over your form as he lets your body relax in a dip, “it’s not gonna work.”

Instead of entertaining his sudden accusation, you grabbed his robes, pulling him even closer even though the music stopped and people are listening to Soonyoung’s instructions for next class. “Where will you be picking me up?” 

“What?” 

“For the Yule ball. Jihoon is picking his date in front of our common room. You should come too.” 

“Uh,” he completely forgot that having you as a dance partner coincided with the possibility of you being his date for the ball. He had the opportunity to be in your company for one whole night. Terror spiked in his form, because he realized that he couldn’t mess up this chance. “Yeah, I’ll be there.” he says, and you seem satisfied by his definitive answer. 

You’re still playing with the hem of his robes, tracing your fingers along the Slytherin emblem. There’s no snark, no playful banter like you were expecting when Minghao prepared you for this. You’ll have fun with him. 

“I’ll be wearing emerald, so you should think of matching my robes with yours,” and you smirk at him, tilting your head, “good thing I already know how handsome you look in green, Junnie.” 

The last of his resolve crumbled like a piss-poor treacle tart. 

Junhui’s besotted, attracted by your boldness and craving for more of your attention. The rest of your words were hazy, like he was swimming in the Gillyweed lagoon. Something about how he better not freeze up like he did before, otherwise he’d be hexed like the girl in The Red Shoes. Something about how you’re looking forward to seeing him. He’s drowned, unable to form a coherent reply when a friend comes from behind to snatch you up. They forced you to pack up so you’d get first dibs on tonight’s dinner.  

You send him a wink before you’re forced out the door, and all he could do was wave dumbly. 

“Knew you’d like her,” Minghao slid up to Junhui, punching him in the shoulder. The pain didn’t even register as Minghao continues to tease him, going so far as to pinch his golden skin. “Merlin, do you have a crush already?” he giggled, trying to shake the taller one back to reality. 

No, Junhui was bewitched.

[solarune]

hello and welcome to my blog :-)

about the blogger.

name: isabelle, but you can also call me belle/isa/bells age: 22 pronouns: she/her ethnicity: filipino-american birthday: july 1

other stuff.

zodiac: cancer sun, libra moon, libra rising mbti: isfp hogwarts house: hufflepuff interests: anime, marvel movies, harry potter, percy jackson, cooking, baking, reading, mythology groups i listen to: nct, bts, ateez, astro, the boyz, stray kids, monsta x, seventeen, exo, red velvet, blackpink, oneus, txt, super m biases: (nct) yukhei, mark, taeyong; (bts) jungkook, taehyung; (ateez) seonghwa; (astro) eunwoo, moonbin; (tbz) jacob, kevin; (skz) felix; (svt) vernon, mingyu

other places you can find me.

bts: @taephilia​ anime: @sunshoyo​ fic recs: @isabellerecs

if we’re mutuals, feel free to ask me for my insta, kkt, discord, etc.

dni/byf

basic dni rules (homophobic, racist, sexist, transphobic, etc.)

while i am ok with interacting with people of any age, i usually only befriend people who are 18+ here. i’m an adult with a full-time job, i think that’s enough of an explanation as to why that’s a rule for me lmfao

any minors seen interacting with my NSFW content will be blocked

regarding my writing.

requests are open but i can’t guarantee anything! i write the ones that strike inspiration for me and that i feel i can do justice

this blog will not engage in/with any sort of dark content (non-c*n/r*pe, sexu*l ass*ult, p*dophilia, n*crophilia, yandere, etc.)

i write when i feel like it, there’s no set schedule

[lililovesherself]

About myself

Rules: tag followers you'd like to get to know better and wrangle them into answering the questions below.

Tagged by: @ph0ebevix (sorry if I made you wait, I just procrastinate a lot)

Nickname: Lili

Star sign: Leo

Height: 167cm?-ish

Hohwarts house: Slytherin

Why I started my blog: ?? I'm still thinking of an answer lmao

Groups I stan: BTS, SKZ, SVT, NCT, GOT7, DAY6, MONSTA X, Red Velvet, Twice, Ab6ix, TXT, (G)-Idle, MAMAMOO, KARD, MCND(just started getting into them)

K artists I stan: Dean, Zico, IU, Chungha, Jessi, AshB, Yezi, 3RACHA and maybe more idk

Foreign artists I like: 5SOS, Adele, Releveu, Halsey, Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Ed Sheeran, H.E.R., Sam smith, Pierce the Veil, Sleeping with Sirens, Yiruma, Evanescence, Indila, Lara Fabian, Eminem, Childish Gambino and again, there are more but I can't think of anyone else rn

Songs I can't gen enough of: Teeth(5sos), Louder than bombs(BTS), Double knot (Skz), Baby don't like it( NCT), Stop the rain(Day6), Ice age(MCND),etc

C/kdramas I recommend: The bigg boss, Attention love!, Strong woman Do Bong Soon, Weightlifting fairy Kim Bok Joo, Sassy go go, The way I hate you, Just one bite, Doctors, Just between lovers, To the beautiful you, Wednesday 3:30 PM, Hwarang, Hot and Sweet, Melo Holic, Cheese in the trap

As for tagging, if you follow me, consider yourself tagged❤

[oracles]

looking for blogs to follow 👀

since i’d like more variety on my dash and have unfollowed a number of inactive blogs, please reblog if you post about any of the following content:

marvel / dc / comics

star wars

kpop: but preference is given towards bts, svt and nct (and other misc artists i enjoy such as exid, red velvet, twice, shinee, monsta x, got7 etc)

shows/movies such as: the haunting of hill house, person of interest, killing eve, the good place

books such as: six of crows, the raven cycle, harry potter

the only thing im looking at are your posts so your theme/url/etc doesn’t impact my decision. you don’t need to follow me, but i would appreciate it!

(if you post aesthetic content - esp pink/beige, consider following @bwaldorf !!!)

[smittenbyschmidt]

SVT x Harry Potter Modern AU: Part 1 - Gryffindor ❤️ 

The brave at heart. Value bravery, daring, nerve and chivalry. Can be stubborn and impulsive, but are also very loyal and practical. They have a strong moral center, loath backing down an tend to act on their morals to make significant changes. They are quick thinkers, optimistic, motivational and proud to be a Gryffindor. Gryffindors stand up for the rights of their fellow students, and are willing to engage in risky behaviors to do good.

Seungcheol: His whole family lives and breathes Gryffindor, so him finding out he was a Gryffindor his first year did not come as a shock. Seungcheol oozes loyalty and practicality, and will do anything to help a friend in need, no matter the Hogwarts house. He is very studious and tries his best no matter what. He has very strong morals that he lives by, but he’s not one to shove them in your face. He is a born leader who thinks quick on his feet and tries to stay as optimistic as possible.

Soonyoung: When Soonyoung got placed into Gryffindor, he was nothing short of thrilled. Half of his family had been placed in Gryffindor over the years, and the other half was placed in Hufflepuff. He was unsure which house the sorting hat would place him in, but he didn’t mind because either way he’d be happy. He is chivalrous, loyal and definitely loathes backing down. 

Hansol: Hansol’s whole family has been placed in Gryffindor, but because of his more timid personality, he was worried he wouldn’t be placed in the house. However, after much debate from the sorting hat, he was ultimately placed in Gryffindor, taking a weight off of his shoulders. He is loyalty to a “T”, and though he can be a bit impulsive and stubborn at times, his bravery and chivalry over-shine those other traits. He is the seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and takes his practice and studies very seriously.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

[milfgyuu]

As It Was [M] Pairing: Lee Chan x Fem!Reader Series: SVT x Harry’s House Tags: 9.1k, Ghost!Chan, Human!Reader, Historical/Fantasy Themes, Reunited Lovers, Romance, Angst, Mature 18+ Summary: On the anniversary of his death, the love of your life returns but things aren’t quite the same. Living with Chan’s ghost proves to be sweet torture in many ways but that’s the thing about real, genuine love…it will always prevail in the end. 

Warnings: Mature Content Throughout, Explicit Sex Scene 18+. Re-occurring mention of death, grief, ghosts, mention of mortal wounding/blood, angst with happy ending, unprotected sex (mxf), oral (f), it’s a heated & steamy lil love scene but rather brief!

Spring is one of those seasons everyone in your small town spends the rest of the year anticipating. Fresh green scenery is splashed with color. Blooming pinks, oranges, yellows, purples. It brings warmth and festivities. Singing children and joined hands. Dancing in the square with a merry tune floating through the air - mingling with the natural floral aroma. 

You loathe Spring. 

It is rot and decay. It is broken and desolate. The smell of fresh flowers knots your stomach and the colors - blinding and sickening to behold. You can’t bear to hear the sounds of the townsfolk and their empty traditions. The music is haunting, twisting, and mocking in a way you can’t seem to escape. 

How could they go on like this? Like nothing has changed? 

As if Spring hadn’t been mangled and ruined just like your heart. 

It’s been two years since Spring lost all it’s meaning and you fled far enough that the sight and smell and sound of that wretched season can no longer touch you. You don’t smell the flowers nor look upon their poisonous petals. The laughter and singing and melodies die before they can reach you; ceasing to exist as if all the oxygen was sucked from the air, suffocating before fading into nothingness once it gets too close. 

Your cottage stands alone in the woods. It’s shingles are drab, dried to the point of cracking and splintering or damp and rotting in the places the trees press in too closely. The windows are cloudy or entirely blocked by overgrown foliage you can’t find the will to remove. The garden out front - one that would have been full of love and tender consideration under different circumstances - is dead and infertile. 

It’s unwelcoming and lacks any spark of life. Too fitting for the ghost who dwells within. 

Neither alive nor dead. Trapped in limbo between the planes of existence ever since you felt Chan’s heart beat beneath your palm for the very last time. 

Your body jolts at the sound of the kettle whistling into the stark silence. It was easily forgotten with your back turned to the kitchen, shoulders squared in some weak attempt to garner the courage to open the small chest in front of you. 

Coming back from the kitchen with the small steaming cup in your hands, you eye the chest carefully as if it might open all by itself before you’re ready. Sometimes you wish it would. You hate being responsible for breaking the seal, contaminating that little bubble of preservation once a year to weep over its contents before carefully sealing them back inside and hiding them away until Spring rears her ugly head once again.

Discarding the porcelain dish off to the side you settle onto your knees, the unforgiving floor bruising your skin in the process. With both hands, you pull the chest closer and take a deep breath. It’s nothing but dust and stale air but then you push the lid open and the faint scent of cinnamon and whiskey barrels into you and your shoulders sag. 

Your face is wet before you’ve even reached a hand inside, daring yourself to pull something from it’s depths but your trembling fingers make you hesitate. 

It’s all you have left of what could have been a lifetime of happiness. 

The smooth wooden handle of Chan’s small knife tickles the tips of your fingers and you lift it gently from the belly of the chest. The blade itself it rough hewn and a bit crooked but he’d loved it anyhow. Gifted to Chan by his father, he’d always carried it around like the greatest treasure. Like a mighty sword though it was hardly large enough to be deemed much more than a novelty. 

You place it on the floor next to the chest and pull a small stack of letters you’d refused to open thus far. They were stacked high and secured with a pretty blue ribbon. The same one he’d bartered for in the market just so he could tie it around the wildflowers he’d picked for you. It’s silk was starting to fray at the corners and there were ink stains on the material from Chan’s delicate penmanship. 

His hands were always calloused and warm and covered in dirt more often than not but they were incredibly gentle. It showed in the way his letters swirled and looped elegantly on the envelopes in front of you just as it had when he’d held you as you danced. If you closed your eyes and quieted your mind, you could feel the rough pad of his thumbs stroking over your cheekbones. His warm, thick palms cupping your face oh so softly.

The old silver flask in the corner of the chest glints back at you and you reach inside, taking it into one hand while you rub the back of your other hand against your wet eyes. All that does is smear the tears across your face and you wipe the remnants away with your sleeve. The cap of the flask is screwed on a bit too tightly. Last year you dared a swig and hastily put it away, ashamed of your indulgence when you could have easily emptied it’s contents. Once removed, you put the flask up to your nose and breathe in slowly. 

The whiskey burns just the same and your eyes squeeze together tightly. Chan had only been drunk a handful of times but he’d carried that flask with him like a lush. He’d tease you about the faces you made when you tasted it but you hadn’t ever complained when you tasted it on his tongue. That was different. It was sweeter and full of him. 

Choking down another wave nausea and grief, you set the flask down and peer into the chest. There is one item you’ve not touched since his death and your fingertips burn when they near the handkerchief that you usually avoid with great care. Quiet sobs escape your quivering lips as you pull out the cloth and peel back its layers. 

Amidst the stained material lies a golden locket with it’s chain curled protectively around it like a wyvern with her pile of treasures. Your arms slacken leaving your hands in your lap as you stare down at the necklace catching on the bloodied finger print Chan left behind just before he’d died in your arms. 

You remember it too vividly. 

He was coming home from a neighboring town and you’d been waiting for him all afternoon. You sang as you fed the chickens, tossing the meal into the air and letting it rain down like a winter flurry. You tended the gardens and milked the cows. You twirled in your silly little dress, that golden locket clasped around your throat. 

You spotted him coming from a distance and left the pigs to gorge themselves with an overfilled trough, abandoning the bag as it continued spilling into their pen. You called his name and he smiled and then he stumbled and that’s when you recognized the blood on his shirt, pooling at the front of his abdomen, spilling past his soaked fingers. 

He crashed to the ground and you screamed so horrifically the entire earth writhed and groaned in your wake. Tree roots curled and retreated from the soil, boulders shook and fissured, and the sky cracked open letting forth a torrential downpour of absolute turmoil. 

You’d rushed to hit side, knees cracking as they hit the ground, your dress tearing and soaking up the excess of dirt and blood. It was so bright. As if everything was gray except for the hideous, bright red blood that showed no signs of slowing. You pressed your hand against his, willing the blood to clot, the wound to close. Willing a miracle. 

It didn’t work. 

He’d smiled at you with blood in his mouth, staining his white teeth. It was grim and beautiful and he’d done nothing more than smile and reach for your face. He told you he loved you and nearly choked doing so. You begged him to be quiet and he simply laughed. It was weak and disassembled and it broke you so completely when he reached up and touched his finger to the locket he gave you, accidentally smearing red there too. Suddenly, his hand fell and his heart stopped and you begged for him to take you too. 

You begged and pleaded and sobbed and screamed. 

The memory leaves you light headed and you lay the open handkerchief in front of you on the floor, careful not to jostle the necklace inside. You turn to retrieve the cup of hot water and realize you hadn’t brought along a clean cloth to use, so you dipped the end of your dress into the hot water and carefully bent over the locket, using your dress to clean the dried blood from it’s surface. 

It’s too easy you think, the way the blood disappears within seconds as if it were that simple to erase the horrors of the past. With one finger, you lift the chain and it unravels, catching as the locket lifts off the cloth and hovers in front of you. After a moment, you extend your opposite hand and lower the chain until the locket rests in your palm. It’s heavier than you remember, perhaps because of the enormity of what it now carries within. 

“Have you an idea how cramped it’s been inside that thing all this time?”

The voice comes from behind and you lurch forward, knocking over the chest and all its contents. 

“Kidding! I’m kidding! Ah, damn-”

You snatch up the knife and raise it before you, the uneven brick of your fireplace imprinting painfully into your back as you press against it. The blade clatters to the floor when you look up to find a terribly beautiful and familiar face looking back. 

“Oh Gods!” you choke out hysterically, scrambling further away and knocking your head on a low table. You hiss, pressing your fingers to the wound and your fingers come away mostly clean but the sight of bright red makes your chest tight and the figure approaches with something akin to concern. You’d think him nothing but a figment of your imagination but as he moves you hear his footsteps and when he accidentally kicks the empty chest it spins out of the way.

Chan reaches for your hand but they never connect and it comes away like mist before it’s fully corporeal again. The man you love, who died in your arms years ago, stares down at his hand in shock. He lays it against the brick and he can feel the rigid texture of it. Looking even more desperate, he tries again to touch you but he cannot. You feel nothing but cold where he attempts to hold you. 

“I…” He looks at his hands and then back to you, “I’m sorry for scaring you. I didn’t think you were real,” his voice trails off and he shakes his head, smiling at you in all the ways you’ve missed, “You’re surely a sight for sore eyes.”

His name is all but a whisper on your lips. “You didn’t think I was real? I don’t understand...how can this be?”

“Well,” he shrugs as if he’s not all that sure himself, “When I ah…departed…I think I wanted to stay so badly that a piece of me latched onto that locket. I hadn’t ever expected to return…well, somewhat return. I’m still not sure that I understand the intricacies of the afterlife.”

You stand on shaky legs and Chan grumbles with frustration when he reaches out again and remembers he can’t help you. It’s a divine sort of torture to be reunited with the one you love without the ability to touch them. He motions for you to sit on the lounge and frowns at the torn cushions. Its state is no better than anything else in this old house. 

You watch as he sits next to you and marvel at how real he looks. Had you not known the truth of things you’d think he was alive and well like it’s all been some terrible nightmare. That truth is solidified when you stretch your arm out and straight through Chan’s chest. He glances down with a grimace and snatch your hand back to your chest. “Sorry.”

It’s quite possible you’ve finally lost your mind. You’re not sure that you care.

Chan chuckles at the quiet embarrassment in your body language and grins like there isn’t anything amiss. “I’ve missed you terribly,” he starts and your chest cracks, “You look beautiful as ever.”

Choked laughter is swallowed by another torrent of tears and Chan wishes desperately to hold you. “You’re still a awful liar. I look wretched,” you correct him, your hands shaking as you wipe at your face, “I’ve looked as vacant on the outside as I've felt on the inside since you left.”

“Nonsense,” he chides, smiling gently as he reaches down and takes up the handkerchief in his hands. It seems as though he can physically interact with most things, except for you. “The cottage does seem a little…vacant though. Have you re-arranged the furniture? Painted the walls…gray…perhaps? Decided to house little orphan spiderlings?”

Your scoff is wet but entirely familiar to Chan. 

“Forgive me if I haven’t the spirit to dust or paint,” you sigh, “It’s hard to bring life to a dwelling that lacks that of which within.”

“Pretty, pretty words as always. Don’t you know I’m just a poor farm boy?” his canines shine with mirth, “Don’t you remember telling me that my hands were built for a sickle and a plow. Too rough and filthy to hold a such delicate bindings?”

You remember quite clearly how you used to bite back at his teasing as a child. You were a little girl with ribbons in your hair and he was just a boy with dirt on his pants. That was years before you spent your days with him in the gardens as Chan taught you how to tend to different plants and crops before retiring under a tree where you’d read to him well into the sunset with his head in your lap, one of your hands carding through his hair. 

“It’s a relief to know your good humor is not lost.”

“It’s a relief to know you’ve not forgotten about me.”

His change in tone is hardly noticeable but you’ve spent more time reading him than any of the books you’ve since neglected on the cobweb covered shelving in the room. 

“I could never forget you,” you tell him quietly, placing a hand over his in the space between you. It of course sinks through to the cushion beneath but the sentiment is received and Chan quickly shoulders away an errant tear. 

He sniffles, albeit a little too loudly, and slaps his thighs, standing to look down at you with another dazzling smile. “Well, that’s enough of that,” he gestures for you to stand since he can’t offer you his hand, “Why don’t you show me around and put me to work? These hands are getting much too soft for my liking,” he says as he wiggles his fingers for you. 

How like him to ignore any and all lingering questions in favor of teasing and laughter. How like you to fall for his charms so easily, allowing him the pleasure of winning you over with his distractions. You stand and make like you’re snatching for his hands, smiling for the first time in years. 

“They are looking a bit soft, aren’t they?”

He bites his lip, sealing in the overwhelming amount of joy blooming in his chest. If his heart could still beat, he knows it would thump so loudly you’d hear it from across the room. 

“Quite soft,” he pretends to frown down at his palms, “If I'm to haunt you for eternity you might as well make good use of them. I’m certain you’re just itching to order me around and I’ve grown tired of sitting around waiting.”

Perhaps you’re damning yourself by giving into this fantasy but it feels too real and you won’t allow yourself to question it any further. He’s here. 

You grin back at him and hum. “I do suppose you could be useful.”

It’s a strange notion that someone no longer alive could be so full of life.

Granted a second chance, Chan doesn’t waste a single moment with you. Together, you transform the dilapidated cottage into a home filled with love, and light, and color. Chan scrubbed and buffed the windows until the sunlight poured in while you swept and dusted bidding all your spiderlings farewell. 

Morning were spent fixing the old henhouse or rather Chan rebuilt the coop while you admired his work from your position in the garden. He’d already cleared the overgrowth and tilled the soil to his satisfaction before he let you set foot in it, wanting to ensure you didn’t dirty your delicate hands until you were ready to choose what to grow. Even then he hounded you to wear your gloves and your hat, making sure you took breaks along the way. 

Meanwhile he worked without breaking a single sweat, grumbling about how much easier the farm work would have been if he could have gone without food, sleep, and shade. 

It was still a marvel that he was here with you but you were reminded of the gift’s limitations too often. 

As it was, Chan only existed in the cottage and it’s immediate grounds. You’d learned so one day when he attempted to go into town with you and began fading away the moment he’d stepped outside of the invisible barrier. You rushed him home, even though he seemed to be well and intact, and did not let him out of your sight for days on end, worried he would disappear entirely. Worried that next time, you would not get him back.

Ever faithful and present at your side, Chan reassured you he wasn’t leaving again and you both agreed he would remain home when you went into town for things. In hindsight, you may have seemed a bit mad to the townsfolk, dashing about to get everything you had needed each time you visited but the look on Chan’s face when you returned home had been well worth it. 

Seedlings for the gardens, a few new books, material for Chan’s newest project, and something he hadn’t been able to see or hold in years…a few hens and a handful of chicks. 

Chan’s teasing about being a lowly farm boy were only half truthful. He was cut from the same cloth as his father and his grandfather before him, all naturally gifted farmers. He’d loved his animals and cared deeply for them, understanding and appreciating all they give to us in return. He was elated when he felt the fuzzy texture of the chicks’ feathers in his hands. 

So much so, he’d wanted to kiss you right then and there until he remembered he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t touch you or kiss you or hold you and yet he could ache and yearn and crave the feeling of you so badly he felt weary down to his bones. Some nights while you slept he climbed from your shared bed and wallowed in turmoil alone where you couldn’t see his sorrow and desperation come to fruition but when you woke up, he was there with a smile and he kept his empty hands full all day long to keep them busy. If his hands were working, it kept away the stinging absence of your warmth for just a little while. 

It was a miserable looking afternoon when you’d set off to town to deliver the eggs yielded from the hens. The rain had come and gone most of the day and though he’d suggested you wait until tomorrow, you insisted the break in the weather should be enough time to care for your chores and so he waved you off before turning back to the cottage with a sigh. It really had come a long way. 

He had been working on a project in secret for some time and now that it was ready, he figured he might surprise you with it upon your return. Using the material you brought home for him weeks prior, Chan built a new lounge for the sitting room. He’d only needed to pull apart the old one to re-use a few wooden supports and by the time he was finished the rain was coming down hard, yet you hadn’t come back. 

Moving the furniture around, he eyed something that did not belong discarded on the floor. The golden locket that had somehow brought about his return had been hidden under the lounge, misplaced when you had jumped away from his voice. It was a wonder how neither of you had thought about it since but he smiled and pocketed the necklace for the time being. 

Just before Chan could get to it, you suddenly appeared through the front door, soaked to the bone. He chided you for getting caught in the storm and ushered you in the bathing room, drawing a hot bath while you stripped off your wet clothing. The audible thwap of each article hitting the ground echoes in his ears but he doesn’t look away from the bath, dropping a bit of soap into the water to bubble up. 

He turns for you to enter the water and only once you’re submerged with your body somewhat obscured does he meet your eyes. “You stay in there until you’re warm enough,” he murmurs with a stern look of concern, “I won’t have you dying over some silly little cold because you were caught dallying in the rain.”

“Right,” you answer him, teeth chattering, “Being mortally wounded is much more distinguished than a silly little cold.”

Chan bites back a laugh and he moves to leave. “Suppose we could embellish your headstone a bit,” He turns back to you for only a moment, “Whatever did you put on mine anyway?”

The question is a jest because he knows burial isn’t traditional, rather, families travel with their deceased loved ones and give them a proper send off on a pyre out to sea and he was no different. 

You lean over the edge of the tub and set your chin upon your crossed arms. “It reads, ‘Here lies the silly farm boy who should have stayed on the farm’,” you smile weakly and there is a phantom throbbing where his still heart lies, “I might forgive you if you manage to put the fire on before I’m done. I might even read you a bed-time story.”

His lips twitch and he bows his head, “As you wish.”

Your eyes catch on his shoulders, seemingly more tense than usual, but the door clicks shut and you dip under the water savoring the warmth and ignoring the tug in your chest. 

You stay hidden in the bathing room until the water runs cold and let yourself feel the prickled bite of the evening air on your skin. Feeling numb is better than feeling nothing at all and you shut out the too human craving for connection. 

With hair half dried, dressed simply in a white gown and bare feet, you follow the sound of the crackling fireplace into the sitting room. Chan looks up from where he’s seated on what is no longer your tattered old lounge but something new and seemingly his own doing. The corners of your lips turn up. “So, this is what's kept you so busy?”

“The old one was wreaking havoc on my ghoulish posture,” he shrugs, standing and crossing the short distance to stand in front of you. He isn’t so chaste as to not notice your undress, the impression of your bare figure beneath. “You’re not dressed properly.”

“You built me a fire,” you smart.

Chan stands so closely you imagine the warmth that used to permeate your skin. 

“I also built you a lounge.”

“Any other surprises?”

Chan bites his bottom lip and your eyes hang on the motion for a moment. His eyes catch your own and he smirks, reaching into his pocket. “I did find something rather important,” he lifts the necklace you hadn’t realized was missing and he raises his brows at you, “I’d like to chastise you for being so careless but I suppose I posed a greater distraction than you’d intended so I’ll allow the slight.”

You tug at the ends of your gown and give a little curtsey, a mockery of his earlier bow. “How gracious of you, good sir. One more favor if I may ask,” you turn your back to him and look over your shoulder, “I’d loathe to lose track of it again.”

“Fine,” he breathes out slowly, “You still owe me a story though.”

You smile to yourself and Chan carefully slips the necklace around your throat, clasping it at the base of your neck. Then, the oddest thing happens. 

His knuckles ghost over your shoulders and you feel him, actually feel him. His warmth, his proximity, the cinnamon and whiskey. You whirl around in shock and Chan’s hands are still raised in the air. His mouth pops open, “Did you feel that?”

Without answering you raise your arm until your palm hesitates just over his chest. It would be too big a blow for it to simply phase through like usual but you push forward and your hand hits solid form. The material of his shirt bunches beneath your fingers and you feel the warmth from his body seeping into your fingertips. 

You look up at Chan but his eyes are glued to his chest as if he can feel it too and then he brings his hand up and covers your own. He lets out a sound of disbelief and his chest heaves making your heart thud violently against your rib cage. 

Chan brings his other hand up and cups your cheek, his eyes watering when he feels your soft skin against his fingertips for the first time since the day he died. His thumb strokes your face so gently it threatens to shatter you into a million tiny shards and then his lips descend upon your own and a euphoric sense of being floods your system. 

Impossible to keep your once empty hands still, you grab at him over his clothes just to feel him, to convince yourself that this is real and not some feverish dream brought on by your poor sensibilities. Chan is much the same and you wish the imprint of his hand splayed against your spine could be burned into your flesh. He presses you closer and closer, bending over you with the desire to take back every single missed touch.

Breaking away for breath is but a mere parting of lips only. 

“I don’t understand,” you murmur in astonishment but Chan simply shakes his head. 

“I don’t care for an explanation,” he pants, pushing his lips against yours desperately. 

The fire paints the shadows in the room in yellows and oranges when he hitches your gown in his hands, fisting the material before pulling it over your head and casting it away. It dances in your eyes when he lays you down on the cushions and you watch him pull away his clothing piece by piece. He looks at nothing but your glow illuminated by the flames and when his body covers your own, you hook your leg around his hips, the heel of your foot pressing into his thigh. Your breasts brush against his chest and your heart beats loudly enough for the both of you, the wildfire inside a magnificent beast compared to the tame licks of curling heat burning in the hearth.

The unrelenting instinct to never let your bodies more than breadth apart drives Chan mad with the urge to knead and claw at your flesh but he’s gentle, reverent. His lips blaze a path from your lips to the crux of your thighs. He licks, and bites, and kisses every inch of skin available to him not daring to take a mere second of this blessing for granted. 

You moan into the open air, both hands carded into his locks, tugging the strands to bring him back before he throws you over the edge of oblivion. 

Your fingers pull at his roots and he breathes, hot and heavy against you, dragging his tongue over your slick heat again and again. He follows the second or third tug and you reach between your bodies as he rises, taking him in your hand to guide him to where you need to feel him most. 

The rise and fall of your chest is mesmerizing and Chan can’t take his eyes away from you and your gloriously beating heart, even as he sinks between your thighs and loses himself in the way your body urges him closer when he slowly drags his length in and out. As if resisting his retreat, you pull him back in, fingernails digging into his skin, ankles locking around him. 

You stare up at him, lashes fluttering, mouth open, chin tipped, and throat bared. How he wants so badly to mark it. To leave blemishes from teeth and tongue. To remind you of how thoroughly he touched you Gods forbid he never gets to touch you again. To convince himself this isn’t all a dream. 

He leverages himself against the arm of the lounge behind your head, eyes trained on your face. Every breath that parts your lips increases in effort and your yet your body still urges him closer and he obeys each and every one of your wordless commands. 

Hours slip by unnoticed.

By the time the fire is nothing but warm glowing embers, your bodies are spent but they do not part. You lie together, legs intertwined. You brace your chin upon your hands much like you had in the bath but this time your arms are crossed over Chan’s bare chest. His eyes are closed but he is very much awake. 

“Have we considered that perhaps I’ve gone entirely mad?”

Chan doesn’t open his eyes but he does offer a short laugh. “What a disheartening sentiment to hear after making love to a woman.”

“Says the ghost of my lover,” you roll onto your side, keeping your thigh firmly planted across his hips, “I didn’t mean it to be a bad thing. I’d gladly stay in this delusion as long as you’re here with me.”

He shifts his outside hand to your thigh and strokes your skin. The subtle roughness in the pads of his fingers dissolving your will to keep up the discussion. Chan opens his eyes and smiles down at you. “A delusion?” he questions, “Or rather one of those fairytale stories of yours? Surely you’ve not read something quite as fantastical as this, have you?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever come across one like it,” you grin, “Perhaps I’ll write one of my own.”

“Well,” he stretches, arching his back in a wave that carries you along with him, “I am certain you owed me a story this evening.”

You don’t answer right away and Chan glances down, catching you staring at the scar across his stomach, the cause of his fatality. You glide your fingertip over the raised skin. “Maybe it’s time you shared a story,” you murmur, daring to meet his eyes, “We haven’t spoken about what happened to you.”

He tenses beneath you. “I’m not sure it’s something worth sharing,” he admits, “Dwelling on the past tends to make us question the present. How things might be different had they gone another way.”

His voice is distant when he says that last part and you understand that as painful as it may be for you to hear, it may be worse for him to say aloud. 

You’re quick to change the subject and force a half-convincing yawn into the palm of your hand. 

“Well, I’m not sure I have the energy for stories anyhow,” you wiggle your way up and steal a kiss, “Won’t you take a lady to bed? A bit uncivilized to sleep nude in the sitting room.”

Chan’s grin is wicked and heat licks up your spine. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” he takes a handful of your backside and squeezes, “I think we could be even less civilized in the kitchen.”

You gasp. “The kitchen?”

He winks, “All the way down to the floorboards.”

The prospect of such a thing makes your stomach flutter in anticipation but Chan’s already moving your bodies so he can stand and haul you up into his arms, making his way into the bedroom. He promises to make good on his suggestion tomorrow and he certainly does, the rain keeping you indoors and in his arms all day long. 

Summer bleeds into the early days of winter and you’re already preparing to mourn the loss of color in your garden. Some will hold out, hardier than the more delicate flowers, but they certainly aren’t the prettiest. You made sure to take clippings for spring and selfishly stole a few more to bring inside. Chan found an old vase in one of the cupboards and you arranged them carefully to display in one of the windows. 

Chan spends much of his time tending to his animals, building things, and stealing kisses from you as often as he can. Which is very, very often. 

You’ve never truly understood what miracle allowed him to remain whole and solid under your fingertips but you thanked the Gods for it every single day. Chan has a feeling it has something to do with the golden locket that sits against the base of your throat and is often caught staring or stroking his thumb over it as if it might help him somehow understand it’s secret innerworkings. 

It was disappointing to learn that he still could not leave your small homestead. 

He shrugged it off of course, that’s what Chan does. He brushes things off like it doesn’t bother him, gives you that dazzling smile, kisses you, and sends you back to your garden or your book. Then he spends the next five hours tirelessly chopping wood behind the cottage until you’re sure there are no trees left standing.

You also still hadn’t learned anything more about Chan’s death. 

Eventually the days get shorter and the chill drives you indoors a little bit earlier. Chan keeps the fire going inside the cottage to keep you warm and you repay him in many different ways but tonight, it’s something more reminiscent of your youth. 

You sit on the floor with your back propped up against the lounge and Chan lays with his head in your lap. His eyes are closed but he’s awake, humming contentedly while you read him a book and stroke his hair. It’s quiet and peaceful, nothing short of a blessing to share your life with him - even if it’s not the same. 

It’s not better or worse. Simply different. 

Chan listens so closely to the words you read aloud to him, the way your delicate tone wraps each syllable in silk, and he thinks about how fortunate and entirely unworthy he is of keeping it all to himself. 

The past few months he’s felt the weight of the living and unliving situation you’ve both grown so accustomed to. You’re a young woman living alone in the middle of the woods with a man who isn’t quite a man anymore. Simply a being lucky enough to cheat death and return to his lover with nothing to offer her. Not like he had before. 

He would have given you the world and now all he can give you is himself. 

The guilt drove him mad. 

“You’re not listening to word I’m saying, are you?”

Chan opens his eyes to find you smiling down and you close your book, setting it aside. He turns his head in your hands and kisses the inside of your palm. “I’m always listening to you, love.”

“Mhm, who is full of pretty words now?”

Chan cracks a grin. He loves when you taunt him with his own words. 

“Tell me,” you run a finger along his fringe - always the same length, the same shade. No need for a haircut in the barn like you subjected him to years ago. 

You think he might avoid talking about it, whatever is bothering him, but instead he let’s out a long sigh and suddenly sits up next to you. You glance over at him in surprise and see him open and shut his mouth, and then try again a second later. 

“Do you remember what you wanted to call our children?”

The questions strikes you so odd and unexpectedly that you stumble over your answer, grasping onto that long ago memory of a silly little dream made up one summer afternoon. Chan had stole you away from your chores only to laze about in the field. He laid your head in his lap instead, poking little wildflowers into the crown of your hair while he asked you all sorts of hypothetical questions about the future. 

“It was ah,” you squeeze your eyes for a moment and the names return. “Hana for a girl and Haru for a boy.” 

“Do you ever mourn them?”

The lofty smile that had parted your lips only seconds ago flips into a frown and your brows knit together. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

You hadn’t the chance to have children so you couldn’t fathom why he would be asking if you mourned them. How can you grieve for something you’ve never had?

The pain in his voice and his posture is palpable as if it hovers just between your bodies. You lean into it without hesitation, reaching for him in the dark so he’s not alone but when you physically touch him he withdrawals into himself and your body turns to ice. 

“I promised you a full life,” he says with shaking hands and distant eyes, “Marriage, children, a home full of joy and love…yet all I’ve done is take everything away from you.”

You tremble out his name, eyes burning and threatening to spill over for the first time since Chan had come back into your life. You could not comprehend why he was saying the things he was. You were happy. You were loved. How could he not see that?

Warmth mercifully bleeds into your skin where Chan rests his hand - real and calloused yet so gentle - and your eyes meet, both red and weeping silently. 

“I cannot be the husband you deserve, nor give you the children we once prayed for,” he utters into the still air, “It’s selfish of me to stay here when I cannot provide a life outside of these four walls. You should living the life you’ve always dreamed of and not giving it all up because I couldn’t let go when I damn well should have. You belong here and I do not.”

The devastation you feel at his words is an ugly monster that morphs into misplaced anger the longer the silence sits between you. 

You knock his hand from your leg and stand with a growl, glaring down at Chan with an ire that threatens to melt the stones around the fireplace. 

“How long have you felt the bitter sting of self-loathing?” your voice is deathly quiet, “Were you going to leave me again? Like you did when you left without word the first time?” Fury like no other sizzles in the air as your voice grows. “Perhaps this time in the dead of night so I could wake to find you missing from our bed? So I could feel the despair of your abandonment once more?”

Chan stands and opens his arms, palms facing up in surrender. “Pleas-”

“No.” The word is absolute and it feels as if cement fills his deflated lungs when you say it.

“I do not mourn the children we never had. I do not wish for a marriage or a husband. I haven’t a single damned care for life outside these blasted four walls,” your breath catches on a choking sob and Chan moves toward you but you shoot a hand out and he stops. “The only being that has ever taken anything worthy away from me is the bastard who ran a sword through the man I love!”

With a final heave, your knees hit the floorboards painfully. Lightning ricochets in your bones until the pain lodges in your throat and you curl inward with sickness. 

He’s there in an instant. Chan wraps himself around your body, pulling you into his lap and against his chest. His arms keep you secured but his hands wander frantically, willing every ounce of hurt away, praying to the Gods that he might endure it instead. He rocks your body, soothing your tears and your deeply wounded heart to the best of his ability. 

Your hands latch onto his shirt, nails piercing his skin but he doesn’t so much as wince at the pain because it hasn’t the slightest affect compared to the trauma you’d be dealt in this lifetime. He can hear your muffled words against his throat. Apologies and broken begging for him not to go. He doesn’t know if you’re asking him but he’s not going anywhere and he’d sooner set the heavens ablaze than leave your side ever again. 

“I’m so sorry, my love, I’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair, “I’m not going to leave you, I swear it. I won’t ever leave you alone again. Please forgive me for being such a fool. I only want for you to be happy and I couldn’t forgive myself for ruining the life we had imagined but I understand now. I understand and I’m sorry.”

He utters it over and over until you’re sure his voice will run hoarse. 

“I don’t need those things to be happy,” you press your face closer to his throat and don’t feel a shred of sadness when you don’t feel a pulse, “You are all I need in this life and any other.”

“I’m yours,” he murmurs, gracefully standing and lifting you both from the floor. 

He says it again when he lets you down into the bed, and again when you pull him under the covers and lay your head on his chest. He whispers it as you close your eyes and feel his fingertips trail over your back from your hips to your shoulders in repetition. You hear it in your dreams when you look over and find him sitting next to you with a smile. 

Even here, he belongs to you and death itself cannot keep him from your side. 

When morning comes, the weight on Chan’s chest is no longer an ethical or moral one, but a physical weight and one without burden. 

You hadn’t shifted away in the night. In fact, you hadn’t moved at all. You awoke just the same as you fell asleep with your head on your lover’s chest and your arm looped firmly around his waist. If anything, your leg might have been the only difference, now tucked snugly between his own but when you move to sit up, Chan tugs you closer and you realize perhaps you weren’t the only one needing to stay anchored to the other.

“I was wondering when you’d finally stir,” he murmurs into your hair with a hint of mirth, “I was beginning to think you pricked your finger on a spindle.”

“If I close my eyes again will you wake me with a kiss?”

“Then we might not ever leave the bed,” he smarts.

“Don’t you have animals to tend to, farm boy?” you lift your head to gesture at the sunlight peering through the curtains, “Sun’s awfully high.”

His voice is soft as are his lips when they capture yours off guard. 

“So sweet,” he whispers to himself as he pulls back, “I wanted to share just one more thing with you before we started a new day.”

You groan, rolling onto your back. “Haven’t we cleared this up. I’m perfectly grateful to spend the rest of eternity together…gardening, and reading, and dancing, and fucking til our hearts content and then doing it all over again day in and out. Just the two of us. What’s left to discuss?”

“My death,” he sighs and you sink further into the bed. 

Maybe it’s best to simply close your eyes again. 

The second your lids meet they shoot open when Chan’s rolls his body over your own. He’s staring back down at you with a tired crease in his forehead. “You’ve neglected to outgrow your petulance, darling.”

Your only answer is a huff and Chan resituates himself so that he’s hovering above you without keeping you under his full weight. 

“I know I told you I went there for trade and supplies but my trip had another purpose,” his lips twitch as he meets your eyes, “I visited the jeweler and bought a ring.”

You open your mouth in shock and he offers a sad smile.

“It was perfect and I think you would have really loved it,” his fingers toy in the material bunched at your waist, “I couldn’t wait to get home and find somewhere to hide it. I finished my errands before making my way home. Passed the time trying to decide how I would do it…propose I mean…what I would say, all the things I would probably forget once I was in front of you…”

Reaching up, you place your palm against his cheek. 

“I was so busy overthinking that I wasn’t paying attention to the woods around me until I felt a blade at my back. Lousy bandit ambushed me and demanded everything I carried. I hadn’t any gold left and only carried a small knife worth less than half a silver. He took the empty pouch even though I told him there wasn’t anything left. Right pissed to find I was hiding an engagement ring.”

The pieces fit together before he finishes. 

“You fought with him to keep it.”

“Would have won too if the bastard hadn’t fought dirty,” he grumbles, “It was naïve of me to think a thief would try to leave with honor after defeat but I turned my back like a fool and he ran his sword through it. Had the nerve to spit at me something like, ‘Crawl back to your woman and die at her feet’. Didn’t even bother to look for the ring again before he left me to bleed out in the dirt but I knew I had to make it back home,” his eyes flit to yours, “I had to make it back to you.”

Because you would have scoured the earth should he have disappeared and not come back, and he knew it. Better to have him die in your arms than drive yourself mad never knowing what had happened to him. He’d outran death just long enough to make it back to your side and suddenly your small hands cannot grasp enough of him at once. 

He’s quiet as you weep, hands seeking solidity in every inch of his body. 

He’s here. He’s home. He made it back to you, again.

Chan kisses you back each time you touch his lips, sweeping across his cheeks and nose, and chin before finding his mouth again. He’s as real as can be given the circumstances. 

“That’s everything,” he whispers, thumbs wiping at your cheeks, “No more self-loathing or sad stories, I swear it.”

Your bottom lip trembles with a watery laugh, “Are you finally realizing that I don’t need much to be happy? I have you. That’s all I need.”

Chan laughs in return. “Oh? I’m not much, then?”

Your sour face makes his lips twitch into a smile and he kisses you, though you don’t kiss him back. It only makes him laugh harder, kissing all over your face despite your rolling beneath him to free yourself. He wins you over, eventually, and you indulge him. 

“You really would have loved that ring,” he sighs, falling back down against the pillows at your side now, “It’s a shame it’s probably buried…or melted…I’m not actually sure what happened with my body…”

You sit up and tilt your chin. “We built a pyre and held a ceremony.”

“Ah, melted then,” he says with a shrug and further explains at your confusion, “It was still in my pocket.”

Your brow creases. “I changed your clothes, of course. You think I’d send you off in dirty, bloodied clothes?”

Oh, well…He supposes he didn’t really think of it at all but now that you’ve said it aloud it does sound stupid to have thought you wouldn’t have cleaned him up. You always fussed after him in life, why wouldn’t you in death?

“I…” you start and stop, bowing your head as if ashamed of what you’ll confess. “I kept the clothes…I don’t know why. I thought to burn them long ago but I couldn’t do it. They’re tucked away on the shelf in the closet.”

Chan’s spine straightens and he stands from the bed with such haste that his ankle remains wrapped in the sheets. He kicks them off when you ask what on earth he is doing but he’s already in the closet, pushing things around. You direct him toward the lefthand corner and explain that the clothes were wrapped carefully in a spare length of cloth. 

You hadn’t washed them when you gently removed them from his too-cold body. Like an automation of sorts you pulled them off, folded them tightly, and set them aside until you knew what to do with them. The dirt and dried blood are still very much present and it turns your stomach when Chan unveils them in a rush. 

He doesn’t bother to examine the shirt and goes straight for the pants. Torn, stiff, and filthy. Digging into the right pocket he swallows thickly and frowns. After a moment, he reaches into the left pocket and freezes when his fingertips touch metal. Slowly withdrawing his hand, Chan’s jaw nearly unhinges. 

The ring is there, in his hand, perfectly preserved. 

When he turns over his shoulder, you’re still in the bed, now sitting up on your knees, waiting for him to tell you what he’s on about. There has to be a reason for all of this. 

“Would you still marry me?”

The words tumble out of your mouth and you’re unsure if they even make sense.

“Marry you? Do you mean back…then, I - well, yes I believe we would have married…or I’m sorry…would I marry you…now? Could we do that - If that’s what you m-meant…”

Chan crosses the small distance left to the bed and braces your jaw in his open hand, pulling your lips up to meet his in the middle. Your legs tingle and you threaten to topple over either toward him when he pulls or back onto the bed when he bends over you but then his hand slips down around your waist. His forehead rests against your own and he chuckles at the way you’re still trying to mentally catch up. 

He brings his left hand up between your bodies and pinched between his thumb and forefinger is the engagement ring he bought you. The very same one he fought to keep and you unwittingly saved when you let yourself hold onto a piece of the past. 

“It’s likely frowned upon to wed a dead man,” he grins - looking more alive than ever, “But I was hoping you might consider it.”

You glance down at the ring and back up into his hopeful eyes. 

“Chan, I-”

His fingers press into your skin with a bit more urgency. “I know I can’t give you a proper wedding and it’s likely that only the two of us will ever know but I-”

“Yes,” you interrupt him and he doesn’t realize what you’ve said.

“- Swear i’ll make you so happy for as long as you live and beyond that even. If you’re to cross over I’ll be here holding your hand and we’ll be together in this life too-”

You kiss him instead and though his lips keep moving for a second he finally shuts up long enough to lose track of his rambling. When you pull away he’s beautiful and nearly breathless, as if his body still demanded that he stop to breathe, and your smile threatens to split your cheeks in half. 

“Are you finished begging?”

“Begging? I’ll get down on both knees right this moment if you want me to.”

You tug at him to slow down with a gentle laugh. “If you were listening you would have heard me say yes already.”

He sways on his feet and grins. “Yes? You’re certain?”

“Always, yes.”

So, there was no big wedding like you’d once dreamt about as a whimsical child. 

There was no dress, no guests, no band. 

But there were flowers, everywhere, their beauty and fragrance further pronounced by the warm rays of sunlight and the gentle breeze swirling about at the back of your cottage. There was the quiet melody of the creek mingling with the rustling of the leaves on the trees. There was palpable joy and bliss in the air around you as you stood beneath a tall oak tree to exchange your vows. 

And most importantly. There was Chan. 

He’d upheld his vows impeccably for over fifteen years and broke the last of them when you became gravely ill and bed ridden. For the two of you, there was no parting at death. Death was only the next chapter in your story and you left the earth with your husband’s hand wrapped tightly around your own. Neither of you wept for you knew what awaited you on the other side. 

Opening your eyes after your final breath felt surreal. 

You’re no longer laying in the bed of your cold cottage. No longer weak or frail. You’re standing on your own two feet in the middle of a field so similar to the ones you and Chan had chased each other around in from your youth but it was different. Not better or worse, simply different as it was, and your refreshed eyes scan the open plain. 

You hear laughter wrapped in warmth and familiarity, and you turn with a smile. 

Chan barrels into you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you both go crashing to the ground, rolling over soft grass and wildflowers. It’s natural to fall into place with you looking up at your husband with stars in your eyes while he leans over you with his boyish smile and messy hair. 

“Is it too soon to say you look heavenly?”

You scrunch your nose at his terrible jest and look around at the sky above him. You pluck a small white flower and tuck it behind his ear, “Is that where we are? Heaven?”

“I haven’t a clue but it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” you murmur, tracing the lines of his face. “So what do we do now?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle when he looks at you and he dips his head down for a long, sweet kiss. His eyes sparkle with mischief when he whispers, “Anything we want.”

Thanks for reading! 💗 (also- if you caught the subtle nod to one of my favorites, ‘The Princess Bride’, i love you, SMOOCH!)

SVT M.List | Main M.List |

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfguu, 2019. ©️

[yukheisrings]

Alphabet Tag

Rules: answer the questions in a new post and tag 10 blogs you would like to get to know better

Tagged by: @thecrookedkookie, THAAAANKS ♡

Age? || 17

Birthplace? || Alaska, USA

Current Time? || At the moment 2:30 pm

Drink (Last)? || Water

Easiest Person To Talk To? || A friend I met about three years ago

Favorite Song? || UM as of right now Kingdom Come by Red Velvet and Vixen by Miguel

Grossest Memory? || When I smashed my finger in the screen door at my grandparents’ house. My finger was all purple and I had a bruise under my nail

Hogwarts House? || I’m about to be completely honest, I was gonna take a quiz b/c I’m not really into Harry Potter, but I never did

In Love? || Yes, with my kitten Mya. She is literally my whole world (even though I’m mad at her because she knocked everything off my dresser)

Jealous of People? || No not really, I have my moments when I want to experience some things like they do

Love at first sight or should I walk by again? || I don’t believe it because it hasn’t happened, so until then just talk to me, I’m a sweetheart.

Middle Name? || Mariana (Like the trench)

Number of Siblings? || Two younger brothers

One wish? || For everyone to be happy with themselves

Person you called last? || The same friend that’s easy to talk to. She facetimed me, the other night, b/c she said she misses me and lunch at high school is not the same without me

Question you are always asked? || I’m putting the top three b/c I’ll never hear the end of them. 

How old are you?

How tall are you?

How do you pronounce your name?

Reasons to Smile? || Waking up every morning. My family. My three to four-hour naps. Food. SOME of my friends. Music.

Song you sang last? || AURORA (Jonghyun)

Time you woke up? || The first time I think 8? Someone was calling my phone. The second time 12

Underwear color? || (No this isn’t weird at all) Sky blue 

Vacation Destination? || Miami, Alaska, California, A LOT of Asian countries

Worst Habit? || Keeping my problems to myself. I’ve always had a hard time going to others when something is bothering me

X-rays? || I AM ACCIDENT PRONE. My ankle, when I sprained it. My teeth b/c it’s crazy what’s going on with my mouth atm. My knee, because my kneecap isn’t in the correct position. My shin, I got a contusion right after my ankle was starting to heal. 

Your favorite food? || Hot wings, Salad, Seafood, and Sushi

Zodiac Sign? || Gemini

Wait, was this part of it too?

Ultimate Bias?|| I have two, THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT, Jonghyun (SHINee) and Taehyung (BTS)

Ultimate Bias Wrecker? || OH MY GOSH. Some days it’s Wonho, while other days it’s Chanyeol. Then out of nowhere Suga pops up and I’m like WOAH. I have slight difficulties staying loyal.

Favorite Kpop Song? || This list can go on forever. Symptoms (SHINee), Orgel (SHINee), Trauma (Svt), Change up (Svt), House of Cards (BTS)

Favorite Kpop album? || Probably Wings (BTS) or You & Me (KARD)

Favorite Kpop ship? || I literally just started to ship BUT I think Johnny and Ten (Johnten?)

Hard or Soft Stan? || It really does depend, and it comes to certain groups 

Favorite Kpop company? || I like a lot of groups from the top three, but FANTAGIO

Backstory of how I got into Kpop? || I love telling this story. It was two years ago in the summertime and I was just getting out of a terrible breakup, that was about two years at the time. I was literally bawling my eyes out, to my mom, about two hours before I came across Kpop. I was scrolling on Instagram and this girl posted a video of the Dope Mv (BTS), and I literally searched the comment section until I found information on who they were. Then I searched her page to see if she posted any more groups and she posted the Just Right MV (Got7) and a video of Got7 at ASC. Now the rest is history.

This took a hot minute BUT you are not forced to do this, I’m just tagging people I see a lot or just one’s who I never tag

 Tagging: @lets-talk-about-kpop @stray-at-heart @lets-talk-about-kpop @seungmole @chimnchan @changbeanie @kpopboyfever @innocentlynik @sing-me @mycollectionheart

[yoong02]

mutuals tag game

i was tagged by @taegike thank you love u bb ☄💖💐

A-Age: 17.

B-Birthplace: fRAncE

C-Current time: 1:00 am

D-Drink you last had: water i think

E-Easiest person to talk to: honestly, my cat

F-Favorite song(s): you found me by the fray is my forever fav song

G-Grossest memory: there was once a huge -like rlly huge- waterbug in my room, i swear i cried for week and i did not sleep in my bedroom for a loong while ew

H-Hogwarts house: SLYTHERIN

I-In love: i have no time to be in love lol;;;;

J-Jealous of people: who are able to accept and love themselves but who are also loved by others. I’m also jealous of those who are outgoing and can actually talk to people..

K-Killed someone: if mosquitos are considered as “someone” then yes

L-Love at first sight or should i walk by again: walk by again

M-Middle name: won’t tell ehe

N-Number of siblings: two

O-One wish: be happy i guess

P-Person you last called: @dylanomione ( 💕 )

Q-Question you are always asked: “why are you always in a bad mood??” if i received a euro each time i heared this, i’d have been freaking rich by now

R-Reasons to smile:  cats, rain, a good book, friends, naps, bangtan, got7, monsta x, svt, the harry potter song, stargazing, good food, cute messages, and kind people

S-Song you last sang: we are the champions - queen (ths cybelle)

T-Time you woke up: 6:00 am:))))))))))))))))

U-Underwear color: baby blue lmao

V-Vacation destination: i want to go to rome, seoul and alaska ! (yes i love freezing)

W-Worst habit: well bitting my nails and completly withdrawing when smt bothers me

X-Xrays: teeth

Y-Your favorite food: pizza and couscous ajdfazjerz

Z-Zodiac sign: taurus

i’m tagging @yoonkmin @jiminnight @chim-jiminie-cricket @bublbletea and @je0n (feel free to ignore this, this is long)

[jihoonscafe]

a-z tag !!

i was tagged by my bby kura !!! @caratvocals ??? aka the queen ?? thank u kura for tagging me n sorry for it taking so long ??

age: 14

birthplace: y’know where jihoon was born? same place. (hospital im sorry)

current time: 3:25 pm!

drink you last had: h20 yo 

easiest person to talk to: @fluffyyeollie on here definitely ?? what an angel but irl probs @unclouded-skies ... ily !!

favorite song: my lords n saviours svt always releasing my fave bops .. like rn pinwheel ??? yeah bitch ?? but !! currently as to what i have on repeat ,, can be better by highlight bcuz !! quality !!

grossest memory: um ,,, khdkfjzkjh idk too much shit lol

hogwarts house: ya girl a straight up slytherin

in love: my heart belongs to lee jihoon n wen junhui so um ???? yEAH Bitch??

jealous of people: @future friends !!! ya girl a p e t t y salt bitch

killed someone: during one of my vamp revivals :^)) (not reaLLy but mentally hell YEah)

love at first sight or should i walk by again: keep walking m’child

middle name: don’t hv one lmao

number of siblings: a lil brother who is my fav bcuz he watches like harry potter n ever after high n calls himself the vampire prince ???

one wish: to have a personal wish vending machine which is always there in my bag like the size of breath mints so im like whipping out my lil box of unending wishes n like calling up satan or some shit.

person you last called: i skyped my friend !!! my phone has been ded for so long lol i dont even remember my last call ??

question you’re always asked: oh yeah this : lhafkjsf did u study? jskhf bitch yeah maybe no probably not ?

reasons to smile: lee jihoon n wen junhui, the thought of getting away from my family !!! (yay go me) n my friends.

song you last sang: mY jULiet !! (juliette - rainz aka my kids)

time you woke up: umM like 10 idk

underwear color: black !

vacation destination: japan pls ,,,,, or like south korea lol.

worst habit: biting my nails or my self-depreciation :^)) whichever u want.

x-rays: nah ,, ur fav never broke a bone.

your favorite food: bitch im literally still breathing bcuz pizza n brownies.

zodiac sign: ur fav gay archer girl ,,,, sagittarius

im gonna tag some of my favs !! @myungho n @fluffyyeollien n @woozismonth !!! n anybody else who wants to do it !!

[haroldcomehome]

Louis y Harry Febrero 2012

1 de Febrero: Los chicos regresan a Londres (x)

2 de Febrero: Los chicos fueron vistos en Tesco por la mañana (x)

3 de Febrero: MIA

4 de Febrero: MIA

5 de Febrero: Presentación en Dancing on ice (x)

6 de Febrero: MIA

7 de Febrero: Louis con Eleanor viajan a los Halpes, Harry en Manchester (x)

8, 9, 10 y 11 de Febrero: MIA

12 de Febrero: Louis y Eleanor regresan a Londres (x)

13 de Febrero: Suecia. Entrevistas para MTV, SVT, TV4 y Rix FM. NRJ house party (x)

14 de Febrero: Paris. Entrevistas para Teemix y Goom radio. Por la noche Harry, Nick y Alexa en Groucho Club (x|x)

15 de Febrero: Photoshoot para Vincent Dolman (x)

16 de Febrero: Entrevistas para Mario Kart, MyBliss, Mizz magazine y 1D en 3D para Nintendo 3DS (x)

17 de Febrero: Italia. Presentación en el festival de música num. 62 de San Remo (x)

18 de Febrero: Harry con James Corden, su prometida y Ben Winston en Aquascutum (x)

19 de Febrero: Harry y Nick en el London fashion show (x)

20 de Febrero: Entrevista con Chris Moyles y Saturday night. Mas tarde viajan a Francia donde graban La Boite a Questions y Le Grand Journal (x)

21 de Febrero: Brits awards (x)

22 de Febrero: Ensayos (x)

23 de Febrero: Harry, Louis y Liam en milshake city y mas tarde todos viajan a Chicago (x)

24 de Febrero: Entrevista para 103.5 Kiss FM y meet and greet (x)

25 de Febrero: Los chicos arrivan en Detroit y realizan una entrevista para la estación de radio 99.5 (x)

26 de Febrero: Toronto. Por la noche Harry y Louis en Lou Dawg’s restaurant (x)

27 de Febrero: Entrevistas para Much Music Canadá, radio 99.9, Family Channel y AndPop (x)

28 de Febrero: Albania, NY. Entrevista para Vevo Lift (x)

«Enero • Marzo»

[choyseungcheol]

Tagged by the beautiful @junghan​. Thank you, lovely :) This is my first ever tumblr post so here goes.

a - age: 19 b - birthplace: california c - current time: 11:16 pm d - drink you last had: water e - easiest person to talk to: my best friend f - favourite song: i love way too many to actually be able to choose g - grossest memory: searching up what trypophobia is (don’t search it up you will get really grossed out) h - hogwarts house: uh ive never read any harry potter books (im sorry!) but i will most likely be slytherin i - in love?: HA i wish j - jealous of people: ALL THE TIME k - killed someone: in my dreams l - love at first sight or should i walk by again: love at first sight m - middle name: i don’t have one but i wish i did n - number of siblings: 0 o - one wish: to go to a svt hi touch and tell seungcheol that i love him p - person you called last: my mom q - question you are always asked: when are you free to play ovw? r - reason to smile: my friends, bangtan, and svt all make me happy s - song you sang last: go go by bangtan t - time you woke up: 12:46 pm u - underwear colour: blue v - vacation destination: to korea bc ive never been to my own home country :( w - worst habit: always comparing myself to others x - x-rays: uh i think i got one at the dentist y - your favourite food: i love meat z - zodiac sign: aries

idk anyone on here so i will tag my favorite svt blogs (i hope you guys don’t mind!)

tagging: @wonuflake @cheollies @johshuas @cinnamingyu @oo-ji

[marculees]

which hogwarts houses would you sort svt or/and monsta x into??? xx

Keep in mind that I don’t know shiiiit about Harry Potter lol

Gryffindor - S.Coups, Mingyu, Hoshi, Woozi, Vernon

Hufflepuff - Wonho, Jooheon, Shownu, DK, Dino, Jun

Ravenclaw - Kihyun, Hyungwon, Wonwoo, The8

Slytherin - Jeonghan, Joshua, The8, I.M, Minhyuk, Seungkwan