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katerina-marie · 7 months ago

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I Know Everything You Don’t Want Me To (Meddle About)

Sukuna x Reader

Part 2

Two months ago, on a beach under golden sun, Ryomen Sukuna vehemently denied ever writing lyrics that could be misconstrued as anything close to romantic. At an awards show, when his band debuts a brand new song that seems to hint at the beginning of everything, you begin to wonder which one of you is the bigger liar.

Word Count: 8.7k

Notes: Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au. Meddle About by Chase Atlantic is the song that brought the idea of band member Sukuna into my head and it’s directly referenced in the fic below, so I recommend listening to it if you haven’t already heard it.

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, found family vibes, some angst, fluff, crack, humor, out of character Sukuna (he's so fluffy), lightly explicit content (vaguely described sex), so please avoid accordingly. All characters are 18+ but only reader and Sukuna are involved in explicit content.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

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“A friend of a friend,” is how Nobara had described them, prattling on excitedly as you joined her in the car to venture off to god knows who’s house to listen to “some album” that the ‘friend of a friend’ was releasing with his band in a mere few days. You couldn’t quite discern if she was being intentionally secretive or was just as oblivious of the situation as you. The only reason you were talked into going was the fact that the ‘friend’ Nobara was speaking of was Toji’s son Megumi, and it was one of his friends that just happened to be a musician.

“They’re letting us get a sneak peak of the album before it comes out!” Nobara squealed, drumming her hands rapidly against her leather-wrapped steering wheel. “Isn’t it exciting?”

You weren’t sure if you would call having to sit and listen through what was probably some b-list band’s basement album exciting, but you didn’t want to spoil your friend’s fun, and you hummed in reluctant agreement.

So imagine your surprise when, upon first stepping into an elegant foyer of a meticulously decorated mansion, you recognized the shock of blossom-pink hair associated with the world’s most popular band of the last couple years. Yuji was all jubilant smiles and boundless energy, jogging towards you and Nobara with arms wide open. You hadn’t quite recovered as he wrapped the two of you in a hug, and you could only gape stupidly over his shoulder as you watched his brother Choso, and Megumi, trail in behind him. You were overly cognizant of the fact that there was a third brother missing, as if anyone could be ignorant of the so-called ‘King of Curses’, and you swept your eyes across the rest of the house that you could see, just to possibly catch a glimpse of him. You were a fan, you supposed, not overly invested but you enjoyed their music nonetheless. If that enjoyment had anything to do with the sharp eyes and handsome grin of a tattooed rock star, you would never admit it.

In an effort to calm the jitters coursing under your skin, you excused yourself in pursuit of finding a bathroom, vaguely hearing the directions thrown over Choso’s shoulder. You meandered down a hallway, took a detour through an expansive kitchen, and tucked yourself through the door to a polished half-bath. Once finished, you took a second to peer into the mirror, smoothing down any flyaways on your head and making sure your outfit sat neatly. If you pinched at your cheeks lightly to bring some color to them…no you didn’t.

You had gone no further than a couple steps after leaving the bathroom when you heard a voice sound out from a small breakfast nook across the kitchen.

“I know you,” it crooned, and with barely there restraint, you turned slowly to face the one who’d spoken, locking eyes with Sukuna.

“And I know you,” you replied back calmly, praying you didn’t look as nervous as you felt. He was leaning forwards on the table, elbows propped up so he could cradle his chin in his hands. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were observant, not missing how you cocked your hip slightly and shoved your hand into your pockets.

Sukuna and Yuji, despite having a couple years and another brother between them, looked eerily similar. Though, where Yuji’s hair usually flopped over his forehead and into his eyes, Sukuna kept his swept back. The planes of Yuji’s face were soft and round, some remnants of youthful exuberance still clinging to his cheeks, and it made you wonder, however many years ago, if Sukuna’s face looked the same before time, age, and responsibility angled his jaw and narrowed his eyes. You made a note—that you also tried to pointedly forget—to search the internet for any evidence of such that might exist. You doubted you would find any though. For as famous as he and his brothers were, there was never much to be said about him. He kept to himself, seldom giving interviews or granting more than a scant few pictures with fans here or there. Sukuna’s romantic involvements were treated the same way. He wasn’t so much a womanizer as he was simply detached, you suspected for some reason unknown to you, and only on occasion would a photo get circulated of him with a woman caught in the mundane, never anything sensual or scandalous. They wouldn’t ever be seen together again, but never did any one of them ever say or do anything to indicate that something regretful befell their relationship—if that’s what one could call it.

“So, you’re one of Yuji’s friends that came to listen to the album?” Sukuna asked, drawing your attention back to him. You nearly died inside when you realized you had zoned out with your eyes on him, and the bemused look on his face told you he noticed.

“A friend of a friend,” you muttered, “but yes.” He didn’t say anything back and took the opportunity of silence to drag his eyes up and down your body once or twice. You were about to start squirming when he stood up from the table and made his way over to come to a stop a half step in front of you. He bit down on the corner of his lip, looking an awful lot like he was considering something, and as you went to open your mouth and ask, he lifted his hand and used it to gesture towards the kitchen exit.

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting,” he said, taking the lead and leaving the same way you came in. You followed after him, not quite walking next to him, but just a bit behind his shoulder.

The evening hours passed by you in something close to a fog. The group of you lounged in a great room overlooking a beautifully manicured backyard and a pool through glass french doors. Music was coming out of speakers you couldn’t discern the location of, and you spent the passing time furtively watching as Sukuna would come and go from the room, bringing a round of snacks or drinks and mingling for a few minutes before disappearing again. In between his comings and goings, the two of you would meet each other’s eyes for a fleeting second before returning to whatever conversation you each were having. At one point, Sukuna had leaned down over your chair to place down a platter of glasses, and it took all your self control to sit still as his torso passed over your shoulder and filled the space around your head with the smell of his cologne. The whole time you tried to focus on the music, as it was truly incredible—as expected for the three brothers—but a buzz of anticipation was building in your chest, and didn’t seem keen on tempering down. When nearly an hour passed since the last time Sukuna left the room and hadn’t returned, you resigned yourself to leaving without seeing him again that evening, especially now that Nobara, Yuji, Megumi, and Choso were chatting about some restaurant with a late-night menu and a hidden back room.

“Are you coming?” Nobara asked you. You considered it for a moment before responding.

“Well, I am hungry–,”

Movement from behind the group caught your attention and your breath stuttered in your chest when you caught sight of Sukuna leaning against the doorway, shaking his head slowly.

“–But I’m also pretty tired, so I think I’ll take a raincheck. I’ll have Toji come pick me up so I don’t keep you guys. I’ll just wait here if that’s okay?” Choso gave you a small nod while Yuji shot you a joyful grin, and then you were waving them off as they filtered out of the house, the front door closing with an audible click that echoed through the suddenly quiet house. Sukuna padded through the open lounge until he reached where you sat on one of the couches. The two of you observed each other briefly before he held out a hand in front of you and motioned with his head towards the french doors leading to the backyard and beyond.

“Follow me?”

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“Are you following me?”

Toji’s voice jerked you from whatever daydream you had been caught in, and you stared at him wide-eyed as he looked at you expectedly.

“I…I’m sorry, I was off in my own head,” you told him, shaking away the memories as you forced yourself to focus on what your bodyguard had been saying. “Can you repeat that?”

Toji looked at you strangely for another moment before cutting his eyes towards Nanami who sat across from you and next to your bodyguard in the back of a modified SUV. No one spoke for a minute, Nanami watching you with a knowing eye until Toji finally resumed conversation.

“In the hopes of keeping the evening incident free and mine and Nanami’s blood pressures low, let’s go over a list of things we aren’t going to do tonight, yeah?”

You had hoped the displeased look on your face would have kept Toji from continuing on with whatever was rolling around inside his head, but he didn’t seem any more likely to stop himself than you were likely to get your wish to go home.

“Can I opt out?”

“No,” he said firmly.

With a resigned sigh, you motioned Toji on with a wave of your hand.

“Number one, we will not insult Gojo Satoru to his face on camera, no matter how strong the temptation.”

You scoffed, leaning back in your seat to cross your arms and level Toji with a haughty stare. “I do have self control, thank you very much.”

He cocked a brow and returned your retort with a look of such blatant disbelief that you couldn’t help being offended.

“Number two,” he began pointedly, “we will not sneak off to inappropriate places with certain pink-haired rock stars to do very inappropriate things.”

The feeling of confident self-satisfaction disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“That was uncalled for,” you hissed, embarrassment flaring at how Toji laughed and even Nanami seemed to be fighting off a smile.

Traitor.

“Anything else then?” you asked. Toji’s smirk faltered and he shot a quick look down at his hands as if a page full of notes for his predetermined rules would appear out of thin air.

“Ah…no. That’s actually all I got.”

You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head and shifted your body towards Nanami, “Everything is set to happen according to what I asked for?”

Ever dutiful and prepared, Nanami gave you a nod as he whipped out his phone and grabbed a peculiar pair of glasses from his suit pocket to place high on the bridge of his nose.

“You are set to arrive on the red carpet five minutes after Gojo does. You’ll take photos individually, and then come together for more photos as previously discussed between you, him, and your producer.” Nanami glanced up at you, his eyes keenly aware of what you were doing with the demands you gave him, and you cursed his perceptiveness. There must have been something unwelcoming on your face because he continued on with a clearing of his throat.

“The two of you are seated on the other side of the room from ‘The Curses’, and you’ll be presenting the final award of the night with Gojo, of which the aforementioned band is not nominated, so there will be no chance of interaction in front of the general public. Other than a brief after-show interview with Gojo on the way out, there are no other requirements of you for the night.”

You let out a shaky exhale, wishing it would take along with it the jumble of nerves that had taken over your mind the last couple of days, only for them to have increased exponentially as the event of the evening neared. There wasn’t anything particularly worrisome that had happened recently, but this would be the first time you would see Sukuna in nearly two weeks, the longest the two of you had gone without seeing one another in the nine or so months since this…thing between the two of you began. Everything was fine, you had been telling yourself, despite getting antsy from the absolute undoing that you and Sukuna seemed to be on the precipice of. You’d be fine with nothing more from him than secret meetings and unspoken feelings, just like you’d be fine if the two of you walked away from each other with nothing but memories behind you.

Liar, liar, liar.

You felt the car begin to creep to a slow halt, and you anticipated no more than a minute or two to check your appearance before you were expected to exit the vehicle and parade yourself down a carpet lined with photographers.

“Do I look okay?” you asked, nervously glancing up at Nanami and Toji as the routine nerves that accompanied huge events like this began to make you tremble slightly.

“You look gorgeous,” Toji encouraged, offering you a quirk of his lips as Nanami echoed his statement, “the dress was a good pick.”

You took a glimpse down at the garment, noting how it melded to your form in some places and flowed in draping waves in the next. Your chest and shoulders were left bare, just a skimpy pair of wilting sleeves falling down your upper arms until they nearly brushed your elbows. In place of a high neck or straps, a necklace of diamonds wrapped around your neck, settling over your collar bone and dripping down a small delicate line to dangle between your shoulder blades. If someone asked you about the color of the dress, you’d insist that you singled it out from a litany of others because it would perfectly compliment the navy of Satoru’s suit and that it had absolutely nothing to do with its burgundy brown hue that reminded you of Sukuna’s eyes.

“It’s time,” Nanami announced, and you watched with bated breath as Toji exited the vehicle, knowing he would appear to open your door in the next couple seconds. “We’ll be waiting for you here in the car when the evening is over.” You replied with a nod and scooched to the edge of the seats as Toji pulled the door open, leaning in with his hand out to assist you out of the car.

“Have a fun evening, Princess,” he said, flashing you a quick wink as you took your first step onto the concrete. The red carpet started just a few feet in front of you, and you could hear a roar of voices and the shuttering of cameras as photographers got wind of your arrival. You bid Toji goodbye with a small wave and took off down the path in a mellow walk, concentrating on pasting a dazzling smile on your face and kicking the front of your dress out of your way on the side that wasn’t slit halfway up your thigh. You stopped midway down the carpet and allowed for the flashing of cameras to work you into a mindless daze. Occasionally, you would change which hip you leaned on or would turn to offer a demure smile over your shoulder. When the shouting escalated, you looked to your right and watched as Satoru sauntered up to your side.

“Hey,” he greeted you, sliding an arm low on your back and grinning down at you, “how’s your evening so far?”

“Well, my boobs are being held up with something akin to duck tape. How do you think I’m doing?” Satoru grimaced at your words and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. In true fashion, the cameras were quick to shutter their lenses to capture the interaction.

“Despite filling my head with that painful image, you should know you look stunning—if it isn’t obvious.”

“Thank you,” you told him, still smiling through the words for the sake of the photos. You broke your focus away from the barrage of flickering light and studied him out of the corner of your eye. His navy suit was tailored to fit his exact form, skimming over his body in a way that even you could admit was mouthwatering. The color offered stark contrast against the paleness of his skin and white of his hair, but did nothing to detract from the captivating cerulean of his eyes. Not that you thought there was anything existing that could. “You look handsome, Satoru.”

Your co-star turned to you with a brilliant smile on his face, the lines at his eyes tightening with the motion, and exclaimed, “Don’t I know it!” You scoffed good naturedly.

Only another minute went by before Satoru was suddenly pulling away from you, dropping his arm from your back to take a step behind and around you, only to appear again on your left side. Before you could question him, you felt his hand slide across your shoulder to tease at the rope of diamonds at your back, the whispers of his fingers against your skin causing you to shiver. He only paused there for a heartbeat or two before his hand continued on to smooth down your side and come to a stop to rest over your right hip. His fingers curled into the fabric of your dress slightly, and he used his grip to haul you against his side. You thought nothing of it, considering it Satoru’s usual antics all done in the name of offering a convincing performance for the sake of padding your pockets. You didn’t think twice as you leaned into it, nor did you break far from him as the two of you walked away from the unrelenting photographers and found solace in the covered entryway leading into the event center. Nothing about the situation would have made you stop to ponder it beyond thinking of what a pretty photo it would make, not until you happened to catch a glimpse of pink hair weaving in and out of the crowd ahead of you before disappearing through double doors.

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In the time following the red carpet, you and Satoru found yourselves seated in the grand auditorium, placed at a nondescript white table that sat next to many others as they all curved around the stage in a crescent shape. In a silent, grateful prayer to Nanami, you were relieved to find that Sukuna’s table, where he was joined by his brothers and their friends, was situated behind you and at a far enough distance that you didn’t have to worry about catching glimpses of him out of your peripheral vision. In an effort to further distract yourself, you dove into the dinner that was sitting in front of you and continued to mingle on and off with Satoru and other famous acquaintances.

The night carried on without cause for concern, moments of conversation paused as awards were announced and speeches were given. You clapped when it was called for. You smiled accordingly when a camera passed in front of your table. You even remained perfectly composed when the show went to commercial and the stage came alive with movement as staff prepared it for the biggest performance of the evening. It wasn’t until Yuji, Choso, and Sukuna appeared at the corner leading to backstage that your heart started to hammer in your chest. They looked out over the floor and to the audience with mild disinterest, talking amongst themselves and occasionally pointing towards something on the stage as instruments were brought out and microphones were adjusted on their stands. You just barely managed to flit your gaze away from them as Sukuna turned his head and seemed to spot you in the crowd.

“What’s wrong with you?” Satoru asked lazily, his elbow braced on the table so he could drift into your space. You raised your brows at him, fiddling with a ring adorning your finger.

“There’s nothing wrong,” you told him, but even you weren’t convinced by the strained nonchalance in your tone.

“Really?” He asked, drawing out the first syllable in a way that told you he had seen right through you, “because your secret lover has been tossing glimpses your way and not once have you looked back at him in that adoring way of yours. Trouble in paradise?”

You sputtered, “No! Nothing’s wrong!”

Liar, liar, liar.

Before you could try and further convince Satoru of something you probably didn’t even believe yourself, the lights in the auditorium suddenly went dark, and there was a collective gasp from the audience as a dark red haze illuminated the silhouettes of Sukuna and his brothers in all their glory on stage. Your stomach fell out from under you in a sickening swoop, and you clenched your fingers into the napkin in your lap to give them something to do, lest you begin picking at your manicure.

You watched with nervous anticipation as a few more dim lights turned on, and it was just enough to see the band as they formed a triangle in their designated positions. Sukuna was at the very front with an electric guitar in hand and a microphone in front of his mouth. Choso and Yuji were situated parallel to each other a ways behind their elder brother, one seated at a drum set and the other standing at a keyboard, respectively. At the very back of the stage a congregation of other musicians and staff were there to offer their required support.

There was one second before Sukuna began playing his guitar that you contemplated sneaking off to the bathroom for the entirety of the performance, but his eyes flashed to you ever so briefly, and it was enough to pin you to your chair. He didn’t stray his gaze your way again as he opened his mouth to begin singing.

Even in spite of the turmoil swirling around inside of you, there was no denying how magnetizing Sukuna looked on stage. His hair was done in its normal style, but gleamed under the light from the pomade that held it in place. His suit was black and the shirt under it—which you could’ve sworn was the same swatch of color as your dress in this light—was opened one or two buttons more than usual, allowing the jagged black shapes of the tattoos on his chest to peek out.

Sukuna wasn’t known for being overly energetic on stage and didn’t jump around from place to place. He stayed rooted at his spot in front of the microphone, only dropping back to play next to one of his brothers if a particular moment in a song allowed for it. Instead, it was the subtle movement of his body that so captivated people. At more than one performance of theirs, you had been distracted by the way he would trace his fingertips up and around the microphone stand as he sang, knowing he had done the same thing against your spine the night prior. You’d once gotten caught up in the slow gyration of his hips as he matched a beat, or even lost your train of thought at the way his shoulders would glide along with a rhythm one of his brothers would play. All of it, every little move and dip and ounce of him kept you completely enthralled, hanging off every word that came out of Sukuna’s mouth, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

“...Cause it’s not just a figure of speech, you got me down on my knees, it’s getting harder to breathe out…”

Right, cause that’s believable.

“...I’d take you back to my house so we can meddle about…”

The hand that had been reaching for the glass of water in front of you spasmed, and you just narrowly avoided spilling it all over your neighbor’s dinner plate as you scrambled to keep it upright. You felt your mouth part as your breath left you in a strangled gasp and you could no more keep your head from snapping up towards him than you could forget exactly as to what he was referring to.

“Tell me,” you started, turning around to walk backwards and grin at him as the two of you followed the cobblestone path that connected the main house to the equally impressive guest lodge that Sukuna called his own, “what is there to do in this grand ol’ house of yours?”

He let out a small laugh through his nose and reached out a hand to grasp your arm when you teetered just slightly on a loose rock. You flashed him a grateful smile.

“Well, there’s a fully stocked gourmet kitchen if you’re still hungry for a late night snack.”

“Mhm, tempting,” you said, pretending to consider it as you fell back to walk normally at his side, “what else?”

“There’s a library. Aside from books we’ve all collected over the years, it's full of some eclectic poetry and a couple of paintings, amongst other things.”

“Intriguing. I’ll make sure to remember that for next time.” You had hoped it came off as interested and flirty, but not too presumptuous. It was hard to gauge his expression in the fleeting flashes of light that were cast upon one side of his face by the lanterns that littered the walkway. “Anything else?”

The two of you had just stepped into the alcove of his front door, and you used the small space to justify taking a half step closer as you tipped your head to look up at him. Sukuna was quiet for a moment, glancing away at the door, and then turned back towards you.

“It depends,” he said, shrugging lightly, “we could just kind of meddle about.”

You tilted your head to one side, unsure of exactly what he was implying. “What does that mean?”

Sukuna lips curled into a dangerous smile, his eyes closing slightly and in a way that felt daring, and he jerked his head towards the front door. “Why don’t we find out?”

All the memories involved in “finding out” that night rushed back in a flurry, flipping before your eyes as you struggled to wade through them while also focusing on the performance in front of you.

How it felt to kiss him for the first time. Sukuna had pulled you through the open front door only to push you back against it as soon as it closed. He continued kissing you in between hurried steps down a faintly lit hallway.

The urgent shuffle towards the bed, his room dark in color, but not nearly as cold and moody as you would have imagined. The way his hands traveled over every inch of you, grasping at your shirt to tug it over your head and peeling your bra straps down your shoulder so he could run his nose along your collarbone unencumbered.

Your small squeak of surprise when he finally removed his clothes and you were able to see exactly where else those tantalizing black tattoos marked his body, and the strangled noise he had let out when you dropped to your knees to kiss and lick a trail of them, starting from the tops of his thighs, to his chest, and eventually stopping to nip at one that curved over his shoulder.

You heard Satoru asking if you were okay, but he sounded miles away, muffled by the music, the excitement of the audience, and what was going on in your head. You felt similar to that moment, when the two of you were walking to his house and you had stumbled on a rock, and just before Sukuna had stabilized you, you had felt a flip through your stomach as you anticipated falling backwards.

The ghosting of his lips down your neck before he went farther down to mouth at your breasts. His weight pressed you into the plushness of his mattress and the muscles in his arms bowed and flexed with his movement. How your legs had parted to make room for him to settle between your thighs, and the way the fullness of him the first moment he was inside you had your back arching and the air in your lungs escaping with a gasp. Sukuna had sounded equally as wrecked. And in the end—some indistinguishable amount of time later from that first moment—when you had finished yet again, he followed right behind you, clutching you to his chest and groaning in your ear in a way that gave you goosebumps.

“Hey!” You felt an arm twine around your lower back as Satoru’s mouth brushed up against your ear. “Are you okay? I’ve called your name a couple times already?”

You turned to Satoru with a stricken look on your face, unsure of what to do other than shake your head at him and try to wrangle your features into something neutral. You ignored his concerned touch to your shoulder and reached out to take the glass of water in your hand you nearly spilled minutes ago and gulped the whole thing down in just a couple swallows.

You could begrudgingly admit to yourself when you were lying about what this whole involvement with Sukuna meant to you, if for nothing else than to protect your heart and mind. You knew you wanted him, and in more than just a lust-driven way. And you knew he wanted you, but were unsure if that desire ventured beyond the realm of physicality. But, if the way Sukuna let his eyes linger on you for the second time during his performance, and how he stumbled over his words and feet that day at the beach in a way that was undoubtedly uncharacteristic of himself, you would wager pieces of yourself that he had to be conflicted over it too.

The band’s performance wound down and finished with a flourish of grand applause and raucous cheering, and you clapped robotically as to not stand out from those sitting around you. Chatter continued amongst the room, and only a few minutes passed as the stage was being cleared before you and Satoru were fetched to present the final award of the night. The two of you lingered backstage until the cameras resumed rolling and a thick white envelope was pressed into your hand. Satoru held his arm out to you, and you tucked your hand into the crook of his elbow so he could lead the two of you out and onto the stage. You managed to keep an easy expression on your face and a cheerful smile stretched over your lips. You bantered with Satoru at the designated prompts and shouted gleefully when the two of you announced the winner of the award, before you both were swept away and set free from contractual obligations.

“I’m so sick of this damned dress,” you complained, yanking the fabric at your chest upwards as the sweat garnered from the sheer amount of nerves you had the entire evening was causing it to slip. You and Satoru hurried down the hallway exit to where reporters were waiting to get their post-show interviews, and you couldn’t tell if you kept your pace quick because of your intense desire to go home or because you desperately wanted to avoid running into a particular someone.

“That’s a shame,” Satoru pouted, batting his eyelashes at you in a way that was supposed to be endearing, but really just came across looking like he had something in his eyes. “I really like it.”

“You wear it then!” That got a hearty laugh out of him, and you were grateful when the joy of it actually lightened just a little the heavy pressure in your chest. Satoru recovered himself as the two of you were stopped by a reporter and began answering the relatively harmless questions about your shared movie and experiences working with each other. It was mindless work, and you could tell that the reporter was nearly finished before they turned to you and asked you a question directly.

“Tell us,” they began excitedly, “what did you think about ‘The Curses’ performance and the new song they debuted tonight?” With a tilt of their microphone in your direction, they watched you expectedly, and you scrambled to come up with something that would sound objectively positive.

You wished Sukuna would use actual words and tell you directly what he felt about you instead of hiding it in a song.

You wished he would leave you alone if he wanted nothing more than for someone to warm his bed when he felt like it.

You wished you felt nothing.

“I think the sound was great and typical of them, even if the lyrics seemed atypical. It'll be interesting to see what the band puts out together going forward. What did you think, Satoru?” You swung your head towards your co-star, rerouting the reporter’s attention to hopefully prevent any more questions regarding Sukuna and his band from being presented to you.

“Oh, yes, I agree with what she said,” Satoru replied, nodding his head as a mischievous twitch of his lips had you narrowing your eyes at him. “Although, I find the idea of the “King of Curses” being on his knees for anyone hard to believe.” Satoru gave a small, sad shake of his head and looked over at you.

Oh, god.

“I pity Sukuna if he’s never given himself a chance to experience such a thing. I can tell you, Princess here is a sight to behold from down below on one’s knees.” His bold declaration had you—and the reporter— staring at him with mouths agape, both of you taken aback by his brazenness. It took Satoru winking at you before your brain would begin working again.

“He, uhm, he’s referencing a scene from our movie! Please understand, he’s referencing a scene from our upcoming movie and nothing more, I swear!” You nearly shouted, throwing your hands out towards them to plead your case, lest you wake up in the morning to headlines talking about Gojo Satoru putting his head in places it absolutely didn’t belong. The reporter nodded slowly, eyes wide and vaguely disturbed, and borderline hysterical laughter made its way out of your mouth as Satoru thanked them for their time and ushered you down the rest of the way to where SUVs were waiting to pick up their assigned passengers.

“You seem to exist only for the purpose of wreaking absolute havoc on those around you, Satoru, and I’m not sure what I did to deserve being on the receiving end of it,” you lamented to him, watching in sheer exhaustion as he raised his arm to wiggle his fingers at one of the vehicles at the end of the line.

“Don’t lie and act like I don’t enrich your life,” he teased, and if you detected the slightest hint of vulnerability in his eyes, it was gone before you could give it any more consideration. “Besides, I made you laugh. You looked like you needed it.”

Perhaps you didn’t give Satoru enough credit, nor had you even stopped to realize what a good friend he could be. At least when he wasn’t implying to the world that the two of you had seen each other naked, or trespassing onto your property in the wee hours of the morning. And because you knew he was right, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed, feeling more comfort than you had in days when he threw an arm around your shoulders and returned the hug with equal gusto.

“Now go,” he told you, dropping a quick kiss to your temple and pushing you towards a black SUV that had just pulled up on the street in front of you. Toji stepped out from around it, shooting you a grin, and opened the door to reveal Nanami sitting inside.

“Thank you, Satoru,” you told him, and gathered the skirt of your dress in your hands so you could step into the car. You felt Toji’s hand against your back to offer support as you climbed in and you collapsed into the seat next to Nanami with an exaggerated groan of relief.

“Pleasant evening?” He inquired, a smooth blonde brow arching upwards as he moved his attention from his phone to your slouched position in the seat.

“I heard your boy toy confessed his love through song in front of a live audience. How romantic,” Toji snarked, shutting the door behind him as he took his spot across from you and Nanami.

“That’s not what happened,” you snapped at him, “and how do you even know about that?”

Toji shrugged in that annoying way of his, not bothering to hide his shit-eating grin either, and you figured you were better off not knowing. Letting out a sigh, you lifted your legs and dropped your feet into his lap, heels and all, and raised your brows at him in expectation. He grimaced, glancing down at your shoes with trepidation before shaking his head. You snarled at him as best you could, feeling triumphant once he curled his lip but proceeded to unbuckle and pull off each shoe from your feet before swiping them off his lap. You snickered.

“Children, the both of you,” Nanami grumbled, but didn’t say anything more as he leaned his head back against his seat and let his eyes drift closed. The rest of the drive home passed in silence. Toji played some mindless game on his phone, Nanami kept his eyes shut, and you stewed in your own messy thoughts, convincing yourself you had all of this rightfully figured out and would be perfectly content with whatever outcome prevailed.

Liar, liar, liar.

Once the three of you arrived back at your home, Nanami was quick to bid you and Toji goodbye before leaving in his car. Your bodyguard disappeared into your kitchen, and you went upstairs to your room where you spent twenty minutes prying yourself out of your dress and another ten putting it—and the stunning set of diamonds—into their packaging to be sent back to their respective lenders. You had just left your bathroom after finishing your nighttime routine when your phone dinged twice. With half a mind to leave the message unread and simply throw your phone out the window, you went about getting dressed in a soft set of lounge clothes and rubbing some lotion into your hands. You were about to go downstairs to get a snack when another notification sounded through your room, and this time you had no self control left to keep yourself from reaching from your phone.

Sukuna: I would like to speak with you tonight. If you’re willing.

Sukuna: I can come to you.

Sukuna: Don’t ignore me either.

You grumbled incoherently at your phone, feeling both somewhat relieved that Sukuna had reached out to you, and also like you were one more message away from throwing up. With that in mind, you sent him a quick text back, ultimately deciding that you would know no peace until all of this was hashed out between the two of you.

You: Be there in 15.

You desperately needed the time it would take to drive to his house to formulate a rough idea of what you wanted to say to Sukuna, as well as wanting the opportunity to flee the scene in your own vehicle if it came to that. After grabbing your keys from your dresser and sliding your feet into a pair of casual shoes, you made your way downstairs and out the door. You were grateful that Toji was nowhere to be seen. While he would surely hear about what happened from you in the next day or so, you weren’t keen on having his knowing gaze on you as marched out the door in an outfit akin to pajamas at nearly eleven thirty at night.

You arrived at Sukuna’s house a short time later, having spent the entire drive singing some random song at the top of your lungs to avoid having to think about anything other than keeping your car straight and centered on the road. You nearly threw it back into reverse and peeled out of the driveway when you spotted him standing outside his front door, arms crossed in front of his chest. He had clearly been waiting for you to arrive, and you had to swallow back a knot in your throat as you got out of your car and approached him.

“Hi,” you called out tentatively, taking note that he too was in lounging clothes, and you wondered for a second if he had been intending to sleep away the night’s events before something compelled him to message you. Sukuna nodded at you, only murmuring back a quick greeting before grabbing you around the wrist and pulling you through the front door. He didn’t stop once he closed the door behind you, instead leading you down the hall until you reached his bedroom. You shook your wrist from his grip and took your spot a couple feet across from him while he chose to lean back against his bed. You needed the distance between the two of you to think, to breathe, and to simply resist the overwhelming urge to throw yourself at him. Because looking at him now, as you could hear his earlier lyrics echoing inside your head, you were sure that you wanted nothing more than to be with him, to never leave him, and you desperately hoped that he felt the same way too.

“You lied to me,” you blurted out, “on the beach that day. You said you’d never write anything that could be considered romantic. What changed?”

“I don’t know if you could necessarily consider that song romantic,” Sukuna said, crossing his arms again so he could drum his fingers against his bicep, “a bit reminiscent maybe, or a touch lustful would be better.”

“Semantics, then,” you replied, starting to feel somewhat put off at his blasé attitude that you had noticed the second you saw him, “but you weren’t exactly being subtle. “Meddle about” doesn’t have to refer to me specifically at every given moment, but if it doesn’t at all, you did a poor job of convincing me that I…we…that night are not the muse for that particular lyric. I would argue that having a muse like that in the first place could be considered romantic given our involvement with each other.”

Sukuna was quiet, and didn’t offer any physical indication as to what he was thinking or feeling about what you had said. It was starting to make you angry, and you moved a touch closer to him.

“If you don’t care, if you don’t want me, you should just be honest.” His jaw clenched tight, and you hoped if you pushed just far enough you could figure out what was going on inside that head of his.

“I never said that,” he growled, standing up from his place against the bed and taking a step towards you.

“But you’re not saying anything else either!” You said, your voice raising in frustration. “I know I never told you anything different, so I’m willing to be patient with you for a time while you figure out how you feel, but I would like to do more than this with someone, and right now, that person is you.” You paused for a moment to catch your breath and noted how his eyes lit up subtly. “However, I will not continue to have us dance around each other like this forever. I know a significant part of our lives will always be subject to a large amount of scrutiny and prying eyes, but somewhere, someone is out there who would be willing to do it with me.”

Any previous emotion that had been on his face was wiped clear. “That’s not fair,” Sukuna spat out, hands clenching and unclenching at his side, and you were appalled by the nerve he had.

“It’s a hundred percent fair!” you yelled, closing the distance between you two so you could jab a finger into his chest. “Just because you don’t want me doesn’t mean you can keep me from anyone else!”

“I. Never. Said. That.”

“Then say something different! Or else I won’t believe you.” Your head jerked up close to his as you grit your words out between your teeth. Both your chests were rising in rapid succession, tension and nerves escalating in your bodies as the two of you stared each other down, neither of you willing—or brave enough—to bend the first knee.

Sukuna did, however, smash his lips against yours. It took you by surprise, how hard he pressed his mouth to yours, and just how quickly it wiped your head clear of all thoughts except for how his body felt against yours. It was exhilarating and delectable and everything you wanted, but you refused to follow him into bed one last time before addressing what would happen after. You ripped away from him, slapping your palms against his chest to keep space, but the way his hands clutched desperately at the tops of your arms and his head bobbed down towards yours in an effort to reconnect your lips nearly made you falter.

“I want this with you,” you said quietly, sliding your hands down Sukuna’s chest to splay out your fingers against the solid planes of his abdominal muscles and letting your thumbs slip ever so slightly under the waistband of his pants as you locked eyes with him,“but not without all of you. Otherwise, I can find this elsewhere.”

His eyes narrowed and a snarl scrunched his nose while the grip he had on your arms tightened. “You’re being a brat.”

You laughed bitterly. “You know, that’s the second time you’ve called me that, but I don’t think I like it as much this time. Doesn’t quite sound the same, don’t you think?”

“Ah,” he sneered, “she’s perceptive.”

“Enough to know that you’re stalling,” you countered. He didn’t say anything back, but his eyes bounced between yours, asking for something, pleading with you for just one more minute. You were willing to give it to him, but only according to how you wanted to.

“If you’re not able to continue this any further,” you said to him, “and the lyrics in that song don’t have any deeper meaning, then you don’t care if I walk right out of this room, do you?”

You were vaguely aware that Sukuna was allowing you to push him around, to act like you had an equal measure of control in this dark room of his. And just maybe, if you thought about it enough, you did. Because he didn’t protest when you urged him backwards onto his bed with the hands still on his chest. He said nothing when you landed in his lap, thighs spread to straddle his hips. He didn’t resist when you dug your fingers into his hair, as soft as it was pink, to drag his head back so you could look him in the eyes.

“Exactly,” he bit out, but his hands danced over your waist and then used the fabric bunching at your hips to close the distance between your chests. You giggled lowly in his ear, dragging your lips down his jaw before coming to a stop over his so your mouths could hover a breath apart from each other.

“You’re brave to lie to me as I sit here perched on your lap. Don’t you know I can tell that your heart isn’t the only thing throbbing?” You ground your hips down onto his with as much force as you could muster, and his answering moan nearly had you giving in, ready to forgo the difficulty of talking through emotions to satiate the desperate need to have him. But, for the sake of your own bleeding heart, you resisted, sitting back on Sukuna’s thighs and hoping your pleading expression conveyed everything you couldn’t say.

Please, put me out of my misery.

“We are at an impasse, it seems.” Sukuna’s voice was low and neutral, and it slid through your ears and nestled painfully in your gut.

“It seems we are,” you whispered. Your voice was hollow and final.

Please, let me run, let me hide, let more go somewhere you’ll never find me.

You wanted nothing more than to slink back home and huddle under your blankets than spend another moment in here with him, convinced he would prefer the two of you part ways just because he refused to be vulnerable, and you made a move to swing your leg off him when Sukuna twisted and in the next breath you were under him.

“Here’s what I know,” he said, letting his body settle down on top of yours, and you noticed that his eyes were brighter and the corners of his mouth were ticking upwards in a smile he couldn’t fight. His voice was light and optimistic. “I am stubborn to a massive fault, and I have not been fair to you in how I have behaved and approached my feelings for you. I am sorry.”

A shaky breath of relief passed from your mouth and you opened it to reassure him—,

“I also know that I would prefer it if Gojo Satoru never came within 100 feet of you again.”

Your eyes bulged as a fit of laughter replaced whatever words were at the tip of your tongue, unable to control the amusement that followed his declaration. Sukuna eyed you warily, and you slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle any more sounds in order to encourage him to continue.

“However, I know that is irrational and improbable given your careers, so I will be content with hoping that by making this relationship between us official, he will have to respect some obvious boundaries.” Sukuna sounded quite proud of himself, smirking down at you with a cheeky gleam in his eyes. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that doing such a thing, while lovely, would have no effect on Satoru’s inability to acknowledge, let alone follow, said boundaries.

“Noble,” you quipped back at him, utterly transfixed by the way he nuzzled his nose against yours, “and something I can happily agree to.”

Sukuna grinned, all white teeth and slightly dimpled cheeks, and you went to throw your arms around his neck when, suddenly, he was no longer over you, but standing at the edge of the bed as he dragged you by your ankles towards him. He kept his eyes on you as he tugged your pants down your legs and threw them over his shoulder. In the next moment, he was sliding to his knees in front of you, kissing his way down your leg.

“What are you doing?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better view of him. You didn’t need to clarify what specifically he was about to do. There had been numerous times before this one where Sukuna had his head between your legs. You couldn’t begin to count how many instances you had hovered over his face, fingers clenched around his headboard as he drew circles with his tongue, nor could you recall exactly which surfaces in his home he had spread you out on, his mouth already on you as he pulled your legs around his ears because he couldn’t wait to get to his bedroom. That being said, it was a bit of a shame to admit that you hadn’t ever seen him on his knees before you.

“I’ll be damned,” Sukuna growled, already slipping his fingers into the band of your underwear to shimmy them out from under you and toss them in the same direction as your pants, “if I go another day knowing Gojo Satoru has seen you from an angle I have not.” And with that, he grabbed your thighs and spread them open around his head as you tangled your fingers in his hair.

“Well,” you breathed out, throwing your head back as your eyes fluttered shut, “we can’t have that, now can we?”

————————————————————————————————-

Thank you to everyone who has taken time to read this little series! It means a lot!

As I mentioned above, this is the last major update for what I had originally planned out for this fic. I will happily write little extra bits if/when inspiration strikes or if anyone has any suggestions.

Also, please forgive me if this part seems less flowing/has worse pacing than the others. I am going through it as I try to fight off some cold or virus over the last couple days and just needed to get this out.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader

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ferinehuntressmoved · 1 year ago

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𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛𝘕𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘌𝘓𝘓 𝘊𝘈𝘕 𝘗𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘈𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘔𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘞𝘙𝘐𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖𝘎𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘈 𝘓𝘖𝘛 𝘌𝘈𝘚𝘐𝘌𝘙.

NAME :　Panda

PRONOUNS :　She / Her

PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION :　Discord. While I can use tumblr dms, I most likely might miss them. Discord is the best form of communication for me.

NAME OF MUSE(S) :　Primary muses are Caitlyn Kiramman & Ahri. Secondary are Mel Medarda & Aloy. Tertiary are Elora & Vi. By Request is Nidalee & Janna

EXPERIENCE / HOW LONG ( MONTHS / YEARS? ) :　Holy shit, you want me to count that far back. You want me to tell you how old I really am!?! So, I started to roleplay when computers were pretty new to houses. YES! I was one of those kids that was graced by the first computers in houses! I think my first computer was a IMB one or something, but I started playing on a computer with internet back in 2000. My parents didn't have a lot of money so we couldn't get an earlier computer; this was a gift from a friend at church for me. It had Windows 98 I think or something. I don't know.

Anyway, got distracted, but when that came around, one of the first forums every I think that had roleplaying on the web was called Avidgamers. I played Pokemon as a self insert character. One liner diaster writer I was. So yeah, I've been roleplaying for about 23 years now, but in terms of writing, I have been writing stories since I was 9 years old, so that is about 26 years (I use to also write self insert stories in Sailor Moon or Pokemon or things like that XD). Anywho, I went on a tangent, anyone who reads this your amazing.

BEST EXPERIENCE :　Oh man, I'm not sure. There are so many things that could be my best. I use to own forums before, I had some amazing partners. I miss them dearly and I hope they are doing amazing things now. Honestly, I think its just the level of growth I've had over the years. From going to being a self-insert writer who could only write a line or two, to now trying to expand my writing and doing more. To be more quality then quantity, but also meeting partners who absolutely challenge me to write better and be better. I want to be good for people, but there are those partners that absolutely push me to try even harder and be even better.

RP PET PEEVES / DEALBREAKERS :　I'm not saying this is a pet peeve? but I typically stray away from one liners or massive purple prose writing that I don't understand what I'm reading. While I never deny anyone's choice of writing, these are the things I tend to stay away from because I personally cannot write them. I can't really say what my pet peeves are? I probably have some but I don't know of the top of my mind.

MUSE PREFERENCES FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT :　I am, hands down, an absolute fiend for angst. I know it might be overwhelming for some people but I really find it carthatic for myself? and have a double enjoyment of angst that turns to fluff. I like to call it Angsty Fluff, or Fluffy Angst. The bonding of two people in difficult moments whether that is fighting to survive death or helping someone through a rough period. Two people, bonding and encouraging each other is something I really enjoy to write. I also don't mind writing smut, I actually enjoy it but I do tend to write smut with people who I heavily plot with often.

PLOTS OR MEMES :　Plots. While I post memes a lot, I do try to create a plot line to those memes too. I need some kidn of foundation. I am not looking for a written out script we have to follow to a T, that's not what I mean. What I am looking for is just like this idea to build around, maybe even talking about our muses connections and waht they are dealing with at the time. That kind of foundation and design really helps me feel more connected to our msues and the writing. I love memes, but I tend to only continue memes with people I plot with a lot.

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES :　I love long threads. like you don't have to apologize for anything because I thrive on really long replies. I have had replies go up to 1.5k words, which absolutely thrills me. The shortest replies I can do is maybe 2 paragraphs. Any shorter then that, and I tend to loose interest and have to drop it.

BEST TIME TO WRITE :　Honestly, no idea. I am far more productive at night my time (CST). I tend to stay up til 2 or 3am.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) :　Caitlyn is very much my muse, so much so we relate on many different levels. I understand her deeply and I'm very connected to her. As for my other muses, yes and now. But caitlyn, hands down, is almost like a part of me that I get to write fully.

�� 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐁�� [ : ] @knifvd - Thank you dear ♡ ➤ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 [ : ] @shimmerbeasts, @hexcoremagician, @goldenfists, @futureforged, @goldusk, @gauntlets-shot, @blackrosesmatron, @angelicxlly, @dynaisms, @decidentia, @demacianhcart, @jynxd, @piltover-sharpshooter, @powdied, @ofspvrta, @undercity-prodigy, @torntruth, @tricoloredillusion, @realmyths, @weavertali, and anyone else who wants to.

#[ panda speaks ] — personal games.

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luvvsoft · 2 years ago

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your post with Zhongli and hanahaki!reader is so sad, stop torturing the poor reader! Will there be a good ending where she meets someone who loves her and finally becomes happy??

pairing: alhaitham x reader

contains: fluff with angst, past zhongli x reader, mutual pining

word count: 1k

part 1, alternative ending for part 2

serenity: all you felt when alongside alhaitham. despite being so aloof, he was the most comforting person you knew. underneath that mysterious exterior, he was truly a softie. (maybe only for you, not that you would know)

you didn’t know of the glances he stole of you, eyes full of love. you didn’t know of how he seemed to dote on you. how he brought you food and cared for you when you stayed late in the library of the akademiya. how he caved into your every request, knowing he was weak to you, and wouldn’t with others.

you had departed from liyue and headed straight to sumeru after the events that unfolded. you couldn’t possibly bear facing zhongli after having to (painfully) let him go. liyue was no longer enjoyable to you, it held painful memories you longed to forget.

sumeru simply had much more to offer with lush green grasses and plants, and beautiful sights to behold. the akademiya was your main focus though, you wished to study all the historical records it had to offer.

the library was where you met alhaitham in all his glory. you couldn’t even begin to form words on how gorgeous he was. he was like eye candy— you loved looking at him. you swore you could stare at him for hours on end and not get tired.

your first interaction was shortly after getting caught staring at him for nth time. once his shining emerald green eyes looked at you, you felt like you were going to faint. you quickly lost your resolve when you gazed into his eyes, stumbling over your words (and maybe yourself) was all you could do.

“don’t you get tired of staring?” alhaitham said.

alhaitham caught your stare, looking deep into your eyes. he smiled and you swore you felt your heart drop.

though you longed to compliment him or introduce yourself, you knew better. you knew it would go nowhere, so you settled for a simple sorry and left.

alhaitham stared longingly at your back, he wished you would turn back and speak more than a few words to him. he wanted to hear your sweet voice again and look into your eyes. he did not have the pleasure of doing so.

after your initial meeting, you couldn’t help but let your head be filled with thoughts of him. his stare was as warm and gentle as the sun. his voice, you swore, was heaven on earth. he seemed to shine like the night sky.

you were not a poet, yet you felt as if you could write thousands of poems about alhaitham. the way his eyes fluttered, the way his soft hands glided over a page, the way a slight smile appeared on his face when he read something he liked. you couldn’t deny your soul yearned for him.

it took a few months in for you to warm up to alhaitham. he saw you passed out in the library yet again, surrounded by books. he would usually turn a blind eye to this sort of thing, though for you, he draped a blanket over your shoulders. he wished you were friends, maybe even more.

it became a routine for you both, one alhaitham enjoyed and you were thankful for. one night, you finally managed to stay up with the help of coffee. alhaitham, already used to you being asleep, had a blanket in hand.

he expected to see your eyes closed and your breathing slowed, not your soft eyes that he swore made him breathless peering up at him. with a smile plastered on your face, you beckoned him to sit next to you.

it was the start of a friendship you and he treasured. though, you both secretly hoped it would blossom into something more.

the akademiya’s library became a common place for the both of you to be spotted together. you were always together with the exception of when his scribe duties called for him. books quickly became a common thing both of you could bond over, for once making you glad you were a book lover.

kaveh, who you both learned to love and hate, always teased you for never confessing your feelings towards alhaitham. it was a topic he never seemed to let go of, even when you once threw a book at him. you had learned to ignore every word coming out of his mouth about alhaitham.

likewise, kaveh always bothered alhaitham of matters concerning you. he always teased him asking if he was too much of a coward to ask you out. it resulted in a swift “you seem to enjoy not having a home” from alhaitham.

alhaitham, as if to prove kaveh wrong, had made up his mind on you. he knew deep down a part of him agreed with kaveh, he was too afraid of ruining the relationship between the both of you.

an invite from alhaitham to meet in the library was no strange request for you. in fact, you both constantly met up and bonded over recent books you had read.

while you were content with it, alhaitham was internally stressing. he wanted this to be perfect, just for you. he was sure he’d do anything for you: anything to see your perfect smile directed his way.

you had arrived looking as breathtaking as you always did. alhaitham could feel his breath stop and his heart beat out of his chest. he hoped he would have the privilege of finally holding you in his arms.

alhaitham spent most of the time staring at you. he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from you, away from your inexplicable beauty.

he had enough of waiting for something to happen and instead took matters into his own hands. he grabbed your chin with two fingers and held it up for him to see; to admire how carefully the gods had crafted you. your breath hitched as you waited for him to do something, to say something.

“i’d take on even the gods if it means i get a single glance of you,” alhaitham said. with that, he closed the distance between the both of you and relished in the way your soft lips felt on his.

the kiss you both shared was small and fleeting, yet it felt as if the world spun slower, just for the both of you.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #al haitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you

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oldflyingraven · 2 years ago

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FlyingRaven’s fic recommendations!

I don’t see these lists too often so I decided to make one! These are some of my favorite fics/series!

Hermitcraft

When This World Is No More (The Moon is All We'll See) by Silverskye13 Fic about the Hermits dealing with the end of the world by moon falling. Mainly from Cleo and Joe’s perspective but all the Hermits show up.

Built Family by Oceanera12 An AMAZING found family fic about how each Hermit found Hermitcraft. A lot of the characters are magical/mythical/hybrids.

EXPERIMENT 76844537: SUBJECT 47426 by HaloRocks1214 Fluffy fic where Zedaph asks Grian to hug all the Hermits as an experiment.

Anything To Hear You (Say It One More Time) by mgrnn Etho angst! He gets heavily injured and calls Bdubs to hear his voice one more time. Bdubs won’t let that happen though.

Home at Last by Wimberly_snoot A good Dream SMP and Hermitcraft crossover. Tommy finds himself in Hermitcraft.

Healing Is a Four Letter Word and it’s sequel The Aftershocks of Divinity by Hypno_Cat Watcher Grian escapes and crashes into Hermitcraft. Stories follow him healing. Read tags for relationships since I don’t want to spoiler.

Bubbles bursting by Higgystar Autistic Bdubs! A very good story.

don’t let me see what i am, cause i can’t stand it by mayflowers07( @mayflowers07 ) Non binary Iskall dealing with transphobia. Yeah I just love this fic.

The i can be the one you call series by mayflowers07( @mayflowers07 ) Series where the Hermits have a code phrase which is spoken when something goes truly wrong. A lot of good angst and hurt/comfort.

bird song by Penmonition and Phantom_Pen (The_Winged_Warrior) Hands down my favorite Grian backstory fic. A deep dive into his time with the Watchers.

Dream SMP

The Stone Steals My Voice by Aimandfire ( @aimandfire21 ) One of my favorite Eret angst fics. Eret gets kidnapped by Dream and is forced to stay in the cell made for Skeppy.

eret whump by DeadlyHuggles Literally what it says in the title lol. Eret gets punished by Dream.

Mellow High by an orphaned account Soulmate AU, Ranboo centric. Sadly seems to be abandoned but still very enjoyable.

Wrecking Ball by Anonymous Eret angst. Read the tags for content warning because it gets pretty heavy.

Eret angst for all of you angst-lovers out there(I know you are one don't deny it) by NightmareoftheCabin First of all the title is an attack on me lmao. But yeah Eret in the prison being rescued by Techno.

Critical role

Ghost Notes by tfm ( @thefriendlymurderer ) Modern fic where Beau joins a high school rockband where she becomes friends with the rest of the M9

The our lives were never ours series by viviolet Hands down my favorite Hunger Games AU ever. M9 as Hunger Games victors. Mainly Cadeusus centric but also Yasha centric.

AFK: a critrole MMO AU by Shippeh Slow burn Percy x Vex. Modern MMO AU.

#Hermitcraft #dream smp #critical role #fic recommendation #fic recommendations #fanfiction #Eret #the Eret #mighty nein #the meighty nein #vox machina #Technoblade #Ranboo #dream #grian #ethoslab #bdubs #crossovers #flyingraven oc

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iwadori · 4 years ago

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Oh my God, I just saw your angst iwa fic with the pregnant reader and then looked for more fics on your blog and I fell in love with it???❤❤ + ayeee another demon slayer lover here 😭can I maybe be an emoji anon?:"D I would love to chat with you but a little bit to shy

And I hope its also okay if I request something: Can you maybe do Tendou and Iwaizumi making the reader insecure? ( maybe where the reader gets jealous/ insecure because some fangirls are flirting with them and they say something like "maybe you are to insecure/jealoue" and they are scared that they will leave them?)

Hope you have a great day <3

When they make you insecure PT 4/ Dating your brothers teammate PT3

When they make you insecure:

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part six

Dating your brothers teammate:

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word Count: 2.1K

Genre: angst,fluff

masterlist

Authors Note: Thank you so much for liking my other works, and OF COURSE you can message me/be a continous anonymous ask. BTW if anybody wants to privately message me just to talk or whatever or ask me questions on my asks they can!! And IK this wasn’t technically what you asked for but I hope this is good enough <3 (I will most likely do Iwaizumi in the next part) by the way this is NOT proofread (so expect mistakes)

Tendou

You and tendou have been talking since you were in your first year and his second.

So you weren’t officially dating.

He was interested in what the second ushijima would be like.

You were just like your brother, sharp and stoic but great in everything you do and it seemed that Tendou took a liking to that.

You entered your brother's dorm room in the hopes of finding Tendou, but unluckily it was just Ushijima reading his magazines. “He’s not in here,” he said before you could even ask about your crush's whereabouts.

As you were about to leave the room, Ushijima asked you to sit down for a moment so he could to you “yess toshi?” you said already bored.

“Are you and Tendou dating?” he asked

“Umm I-” You didn’t really know what to say, since you and Tendou haven’t officially put a label on things (as much as you wanted him too.) “Not really dating per se, just going through the motions...i guess” you said with uncertainty.

“Going through the motions?” Ushijima questioned more to himself then to you.

“Don’t worry about it Toshi” you say ruffling his hair

“I’m just checking to make sure you’re okay Y/N” he said seriously “Oh and by the way when you and Tendou are about to have se-”

“La La La La La” you say putting your fingers in your ears “I do not need a sex-ed lesson from you nii-san" you swiftly leave the room a tad bit grossed out.

“Oh and by the way Tendou is probably in Eita’s and Kenjirou’s room.” he calls.

You excitedly skip over to Semi’s and Shirabu’s room happy to see your boyfriend ‘friend.’ Walking to the door, before you open it, you hear Tendou talking to Semi and Shirabu and the conversation topic seems to be about you.

“How are things going with Y/N Tendou” Semi asked “You’re practically dating now. Right?”

“Well Semi-sem, I wouldn’t say that...” Tendou said, making you furry your eyebrows in confusion. “Y/N is a bit, you know... what’s the right word” he thinks, “Boring.”

You step back abit from the door, shocked. ‘Boring?’ How were you boring... You were hurt. Especially since you’ve heard the insult of you being boring your whole life, you knew that you took after your brother in most aspects but that didn’t make neither you or your brother boring. You’ve even have voiced that specific insecurity (about you being boring) where Tendou always assured you that you were the most interesting person he’s ever met.

You went back into Ushijima’s room since it was the closest place and you knew you could always go to your brother whenever you were upset or just in need of someone to listen to you rant about anything. Upon your entering, Ushijima looks up at you and before he could ask what was wrong you wrapped your arms around him and just burst out crying. Awkwardly, Ushijima pats your back not really knowing what to do. He waits for you to calm down before asking you “What’s wrong Y/N?”

“h-he called me boring...” you cried again slightly, “I heard him talking with Semi and Shirabu”

“Well I don’t think you a boring, not at all Y/N” he said handing you a tissue so that you can wipe your eyes and blow your nose “Do you need me to talk with him?”

“No!” You exclaimed “Don’t talk to him...I’ll handle it.” You knew that him and Tendou talking wouldn’t turn out right, because you weren’t even dating in the first place and Ushijima would definitely deep the situation more then needs be.

“Ushiwaka I brought some snacks for us” said a cheerful sounding Tendou entering the room. His voice faltered when he saw a teary eyed you wrapped up in her brothers arm. “Y/N-chan are you alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine” you respond dryly “Well I’ll be going...thanks Toshi”

You leave the room not looking Tendou in the eye leaving him confused. He thought you would be happy to see him, although he knew you weren’t officially ‘together’ or whatever so he didn’t get why you seemed mad.

“Hey Ushiwaka, what’s wrong with Y/N” he asked

“She said I am not allowed to discuss it with you.” Ushijima replied flipping through his magazine

‘So there is a problem..’ Tendou thought trying to think of things that could spur up your problem with him.

When you were heading to your room, you bumped into Semi and Shirabu who seemed to be heading towards your brother. “Hey Y/N” they greeted simultaneously

“hi guys..” you said sniffling

They could see that you were sad and didn’t want to pry, so in an attempt to make you feel better Semi said “One of our friends, I think someone from Karasuno is having a party do you wanna come with us.” Just then, a lightbulb went off in your head and you thought of the best idea to really show Tendou you aren’t boring and you can also make your ‘boy’ friend jealous at the same time.

You immediately perk up and smile at the boys surprising them, “Sure, I'd love to go pick me up at 8?” you ask making them nod as you rush back to your dorm room to find something to wear.

After basically emptying your wardrobe, you find something to wear (a little black dress to be precise) you couldn’t deny that you were hot in general but right now in this dress there was no dispute about how beautiful you are.

Semi knocks on your door right at 8pm, his eyes widening seeing how you look. You gave him a knowing smirk making the tips of his ears go red, “should we be going now...?” you ask as he was stood there frozen staring at you,

“Uhm yeah sure” he said awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck feeling a little bit embarrassed.

Entering the party, a lot of eyes were on both you and Semi in jealousy and in want. You were both the most attractive ‘couple’ in the room and it was obvious that you both knew that. Tendou was already there sitting in the corner of the room with the rest of the Shiratorizawa boys, he had of bit of anger brewing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of you on Semi’s arm.

“Semi! My twin, welcome to the party!” Yelled a boy who looked kind of like Semi, making Semi roll his eyes

“Hi, I’m Sugawara but you can just call me suga” he says to you extending his hand “and you are...”

“Oh Hi! I’m Ushijima Y/N” you replied back giving his hand a shake

“I see, Ushiwaka’s little sister...cute” he says smiling in your face “Well I’ve got to now and make sure certain teammates of mine aren’t blowing up my house or anything so talk to you soon”

“You do kind of look the same Semi” you say to him teasingly

“Oh, shut up Y/N” he says jokingly making you laugh pretty loudly putting your arm on his bicep (forearm I don’t know the body part lol.) You look over to Tendou and you could tell he was getting bothered by your interaction with Semi making it even more enjoyable to you.

“Semi, do you wanna dance?” you ask batting your eyelashes at him, throwing him off. “Um okay.”

You were being a bit wild with your movements whilst dancing with Semi (since you’re obviously not the usual party-goer) but you were enjoying yourself nevertheless.

“Are you okay Y/N?” Semi asks you

“Yeah why wouldn’t I be” you respond

“Um...it’s just that you’ve been a bit weird tonight and I’ve seen the staring matches you and Tendou have been having” he says “Is everything alright with both of you?”

He leads you over to somewhere more private so that you could properly talk, “So what's been going on with the two of you.”

“You should know more than me Semi” you sigh “You were there when he called me boring”

“I don’t think he meant it th-” he starts

“I don’t care what he meant to be honest, I just wanted to prove to him more so prove to myself that I’m not boring. Cause I don’t think I am.” you say

“You’re not Y/N” he says looking at you “Of course you aren’t.”

“I guess so... it doesn’t even matter I shouldn’t even be so upset, since me and Tendou aren’t actually dating.” you mumbled looking away

“Tendou really likes you Y/N” he says turning your body so you’re so looking at him “He talks about you all the time, since he thinks you’re amazing.”

You’re now staring into each other's eyes “And that’s because you are amazing Y/N” his words make you smile and look down slightly. Maybe it was just because you were both in the heat of the moment, but Semi lips up your chin so you’re both directly in front of each other and you then subconsciously lean into his face closing your eyes (with him doing the same.) And just as your lips were about to touch you hear a,

“What the fuck is happening here!” you look to your left and see both Tendou and Ushijima. With Tendou having his mouth agape and Ushijima having his usual monotone expression on. Tendou rushes over to you and grips your arm pulling your arm up, making you wince slightly and him lessening his grip on you. He pulls you into the bathroom and sits you down on the toilet (the lid is closed) and he leans against the sink.

“What’s your problem with me Y/N” he says sounding pretty fed up.

“Nothing...I don’t see why you care … It’s not like we’re dating or anything” you say mumbling the last part.

“Oh so that’s your problem!” he exclaims, kind of happy that he cracked the code on why you were mad at him.

“No my problem is that you think Im boring” you whine

“Boring... I don’t think I ever sai-” he pauses realizing what you were referring too “Oh you heard me when I was with Semi-sem and Shirapoo... we thought we heard someone outside”

You sat there with a bored expression on your face waiting for an explanation, “I never said you were boring, well I did. But I assume you miss what I really said was ‘Boring. No that’s also the wrong word too she’s blunt it’s like I’m talking to a girl version of Ushijima sometimes it’s spooky.... but besides that, I really like her’ that’s what I said”

Oh, ‘I guess that makes sense,’ you think... because you were shocked that Tendou would call you boring in the first place so it makes more sense that he didn’t even fully mean that and you just didn’t hear the full thing.

“Oh” you say, looking down feeling a bit embarrassed

"I really like you Y/N... and I know you’ve been waiting on me to ask you to be my girlfriend and I’m sorry for not doing it sooner, I just didn’t think we needed a label since we both knew what we were” he says kneeling down to be at your eye level “But obviously when I saw you dancing and flirting with Semi I realised what I gotta do... so Y/N Ushijima my ‘miracle girl’ will you be my girlfriend”

“Of course,” you say giving him a hug

“Oh, and Y/N...” he starts “were you really about to kiss semi” he asks in a jokey way “you would’ve been left with a permanent scowl left on your face” making you laugh.

After spending quite some time in the bathroom with Tendou, you finally leave and see Ushijima just standing outside patiently waiting.

“Umm Toshi-nii what are you doing?” you ask

“Just making sure you’re okay Y/N.” he says looking at both you and Tendou and then your hands that are holding each other's “Ahh I see you two are now boyfriend and girlfriend”

“Yes indeed we are Ushiwaka, I finally asked her!” Tendou replied

“Oh that’s good.” Ushijima nods at both at you as you start walking off to return to the party “Also Tendou, when you and Y/N have se-”

“Gosh Toshi, stop with the sex talk” you say putting your hands on your ears making Tendou laugh.

You and Tendou have so much fun in your relationship, always enjoying the time you spend together. There were no big problems with you two, besides minor arguments but if there ever was a problem you could always go to your big brother who had the best advice to give whether it was on relationships, plants or sex.

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyu #haikyu headcanons #tendou headcanon #tendou scenario #tendou satori #tendou x reader #tendo x y/n #tendou angst #tendou x you #signedwithane😌

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coldtomyflash · 2 years ago

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Hi what was your favorite season of The Flash?

Season 1, absolutely and for sure. I've often said "season 1 is my happy place" and meant it.

It gives us Captain Cold every 6 episodes and establishes that wonderful dynamic of fascinated antagonism between him and Barry that I can't get enough of.

But it's not just about Cold.

S1, the plot with Reverse Flash has these emotional stakes that feel real, and the intense frustration (in a good way) of not knowing why Eobard hates Barry the way he does. The horror of that realization unfolding as Barry can no longer deny that Wells, his mentor, is the person who killed his mother, even if he can't explain why or necessarily how.

Cisco and Wells is honestly such an important dynamic too and when I tell you I screamed when the Reverse Flash killed Cisco before time was rewound, whew. The drama! We didn't know about time travel yet! And then it gets undone and Cisco goes off with Golden Glider and gets kidnapped and we spend the entire episode tense because is this the kind of "death is inevitable" narrative or will he escape the jaws of death so narrowly? Ahhh!!

(seriously Cisco's betrayal, figuring out Wells before anyone else, confronting him, it all hurt so good)

And season 1 Eddie and Iris! I love their romance, I love the way it feels authentic, the way they grapple with it. And Eddie's sacrifice! Later seasons each continue to introduce a new CCPD blond(e) -- Eddie, Patty, Julian, Ralph, etc., but the stakes don't feel near so important, especially not once you notice it's just a revolving cast of a new CCPD-adjacent blond character and there's no point in becoming attached. So many of the subsequent seasons try to recapture the magic of S1 and fail because they're regurgitating a formula instead of finding something new, something as Fresh as what Eddie brought to the story.

Controversial take but I also like the messy unrequited thing we get from Barry for Iris in S1, and the fact that the show actually acknowledged the sticky "we're kind of like siblings" in that season was a good thing, actually. And I get why they brushed that aside later and stopped mentioning it, but I personally enjoy the complicated uncomfortable messiness they setup there and am still a little sad they ignored it entirely on the relationship follow-through and didn't allow it to be a thing they had to actually Navigate.

On the topic of fucked-up stuff, S1 also called out the pipeline and Cecile straight up told Joe that no, that's messed up, and Joe told Barry it's messed up, and the heroes suffered consequences for their messed up actions when Len and Mick and Lisa released the pipeline Rogues and it was - chef's kiss.

Also tbh I feel pretty similarly about the first half of season 2, before they took Len and Mick off to Legends and we stopped seeing Lisa and any chance of the full/proper Rogues disappeared along with Goldenvibe (my beloved, best canon ship).

The back half of season 2 disappoints with Jay being revealed as Zoom because it's just, as I said, regurgitating season 1's plot and it's lame as hell to me, but up to that it's really enjoyable. We get great Rogues episodes with the Snart backstory and with Weather Wizard busting Len out of prison. I also like Harry's introduction and character, and I like Earth-2 and Killer Frost and the setup to our Caitlin's story on that front, and I like Patty and hate that they wrote her off so abruptly mid-season.

And Zoom was genuinely sinister and Barry's spinal injury and how Zoom dragged him around the city like a ragdoll was honestly O.O and I was here for it.

I like horror, and S1-S2 felt like they had these moments of angst and horror and good guys doing awful things without being cleanly excused by the narrative, and all these sticky and messy things that just made them more interesting.

The seasons that follow have some of this (Flashpoint, Barry going back in time to get the speed formula from Wells, Savitar being the consequence of Barry's actions, Barry going to prison) but they seem to hit less hard, possibly because the plot moves on too fast and we see less of the trauma fallout, or possibly because I just have a higher expectation for them to unpack these things and their consequences after an initial season in which they set them up?

Meaning Season 1 gets to fuck around but I expect the later seasons to find out, and am disappointed that they don't spend as much time as I would like on the emotional/character side of the "find out" piece?

#season 1 is my happy place #the flash season 1 #season 1 #canon critical #kind of #wank for ts #but also a lot of joy #it's not that there's nothing in the later seasons i enjoy #there actually is quite a lot #it's just that they don't come together as well for me #they tend to start strong and lose me in the second half?#and somewhere along the way it started to feel more like a cw family drama #than a cw monster/case of the week #and the horror became less horrifying and the stakes became a bit silly #but there's so much to love about this show #across all seasons #more than i could ever list in a single post

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alluringjae · 4 years ago

Text

all i do is wait - kdy

All I Do Is Wait | So Close

⤑ summary: one day, kim doyoung was alive. the next, he wasn’t. he left you and the world too soon, but he made a promise: to look out and wait for you until the very end.

⤑ pairing: doyoung x female reader

⤑ word count: 22.7k

⤑ genre: angst (so much longing), major slow burn, fluff (if you squint really well), slight unprotected smut (not my forté) | ghost!doyoung, hotel del luna!au, slight college!au, 40s to 90s!au (loads of flashbacks)

⤑ warnings: death, grief, explicit language, sexism (screw the patriarchy omfg), mentions and scenes of alcohol, drinking, smoking, war, unplanned pregnancy, childbirth, and abortion, ghost possession of humans (in like one scene only tbh)

⤑ long author’s note: minors, beware of the warnings! i highly recommend you watch the kdrama beforehand so you would understand the universe, even if majority of the characters are from my imagination. i also did some prior historical research. though there are inaccuracies, this story is just fiction. importantly, i don’t own the hotel del luna series; they serve as the main inspiration but with some of my twists. i’m also bit rough with writing lately, so there’s also room for improvement. overall, prepare your heart.

i cried so much in the process.

italicized texts symbolize conversations in a dream call. *wink* *wink*

⤑ gif above not mine, ctto! leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

After all decades of waiting, it’s finally time.

As a soul still wandering in the living world, Doyoung’s options were limited. To peacefully go ahead into the afterlife or wait for his lover by working in the hotel for ghosts until she passed.

He’d chosen the latter, the betrayal he felt from the deities to have gone so soon.

And leave you behind.

But first, let’s take a trip down Doyoung’s journey; life, death, and after it.

1948

Kim Doyoung came from a well-off family. He was a university student, taking up journalism as a pre-law course. He wanted to right the wrongs and let justice prevail. Blessed by his privilege, he wanted to be of service to others who cannot afford it.

Both of you crossed paths at a university in Busan as seatmates. Right after the South Korean constitution granted women’s rights to education, immediately you aimed high and applied for the top universities in the city. After being homeschooled and self-studying under the books, the opportunity to go to an actual school was like a dream come true especially when you received acceptance letters from all of them.

Your first impression of him was that he was moody and quite snobby. When you politely asked him once if you can take a peek at his notes because you lost track of the professor’s lecture, he refused with an annoyed glare.

“You should try harder then.” You nodded in gratitude anyways, taking those words to encourage you. Though it still stung.

When classes that day concluded, you were so ready to return to the women’s dorm and take a breather from men. Since you were far from your village, maybe you would give a call to your father, your mentor all your life to seek his guidance on your professors’ lessons. Once you found your bike and placing your books on the basket in front, a light tap on your shoulder caught you off-guard and almost made you topple over.

“Oh, sh-”

“Oh my, I’m sorry for scaring you like that.”

When you directed your body to the source, it was none other than Kim Doyoung. He removed his blazer from class, resting it on his arm. He wore these suspenders and leather loafers, sporting the rich, preppy boy look. His eyes looked softer, apologetic by the way he gave a slight pout.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. It was rude of me to shun you like that.”

Unfortunately, it was rare to find young men like him to own up to their mistakes When you’re the only woman in that class, the majority of the boys are either snickering with judgment at your presence.

“Women are only meant to stay at home.”

“She’s weak. She won’t last here with the deep, legal terminologies the professors use.” Those insults aren’t new to you.

Doyoung seemed like a plot twist in the social narrative. You were surprised, to say the least, yet relieved.

“Oh, it’s okay. Considering I interrupted you from listening to the professor, I could’ve waited after class or as you said, study harder.” You accepted.

Doyoung still felt awful for his attitude, fiddling his briefcase. He struggled to express himself through words, understanding why many had this impression of him being cold. If he were to be honest, his actual initial impression of you was that you were hardworking and resilient, setting a new example of the modern woman. He thought that being too soft on you in class may look degrading, thus his statement from the class was just him treating you the same way as other boys who don’t study hard enough. Unfortunately, it backfired completely.

As a man who grew up with the belief to always pay respect to everyone without discrimination, he had to make it up to you somehow.

“It’s still wrong of me to say that to you, (Y/N). So-” He trailed on, opening his case to bring out one of his notebooks. Without hesitating, he handed it to you. “I took as many notes from the lecture on fallacies here. If there’s any way I can help you in the future, I’m more than willing to help you.”

This newfound kindness from a boy in this patriarchal university may be the silver lining in your current stay. You weren’t too sure if you would get a chance like this in the coming years, so you gladly took it. Noticing the engraved “K.DY” on the lower right side of it, which were his initials, it’s easy to identify that he was rich. But his attitude was different than the others.

Placing it carefully in the front basket, you steadied your body to the handles and pedals of the bike. “Thank you for this, Doyoung. I will return it to you as soon as possible.”

Knowing he was of help to you, he flashed a gummy smile. “No problem, (Y/N). If you want, we can review it before class too just in case the professor gives another surprise quiz.”

You let out a laugh, being reminded of your horrified face on a previous surprise quiz in the past. “Oh god, I flunked that quiz! Damn him.”

Ever since that conversation, it’s where your friendship started.

Going to university became more enjoyable and less daunting, having Doyoung defend you from other boys (even if you’ve told him so many times that you can handle it). After you found out that Doyoung’s status was more elite than you assumed, a lot of boys wouldn’t want to try and test him since their family lines would be at risk. You had a better focus on your academics, and if it weren’t for you, other girls attending university with you would’ve never thought women students would befriend the men. You were the shift in the narrative.

As lucky as you are to have a female support system in the patriarchal university, you found yourself always hanging out with Doyoung. He was filled with so much compassion in his heart and there were beliefs that you both surprisingly shared in your conservative society, deepening your bond. One of them was the sexist view of women as low-status people. He told you one time that thinking that way is like thinking his loving mother is undeserving of things in life. It’s an unacceptable concept, he added. You even met his mother at some point, and she’s a sweetheart.

Another was having the frustration towards those who shame on women who want to study and learn rather than to submit to the power of men so early in their lives.

“I’m so sick of people telling me to stop studying and settle down with some random boy. There’s just so much to learn out here!” You complained. It was one hot weekend that time, and you were both relaxing under the shade of a big tree by a flowing river. That spot is hidden, thus claiming it as your spot. Doyoung leaned by the tree reading while you rested on his lap. At this point, you’ve grown very comfortable with him. Doyoung sighed, putting his book to discuss his thoughts.

“Agreed. You seriously deserve so much better, (Y/N). People today just don’t get it.”

Huffing away that stress, your head tilted to get a better view of Doyoung.

“Doyoung, do you think things will get better for women in the future?” He admired your hopefulness in times of trouble. Stroking your hair to soothe you, he gave a positive reply.

“If we keep fighting for it, then we’ll progress. So let’s not give up, okay?” Your heart couldn’t help but leap.

As he looked at you with blooming flowers from the tree in the background, it was a matter of time where your initial feelings for him diverted into something more. The concept of butterflies in your stomach was only introduced to Doyoung in novels, but he wondered if it’s the exact feeling he was getting from you. From your intelligence to your sharp tongue to fight back the rude boys, the list goes on all the traits that he liked about you.

Weeks later, the questionable status of your friendship changed after he unexpectedly kissed you for the first time while stargazing at your special spot. It caught you off guard at first as your lips froze, him pulling away immediately. He rubbed the nape of his neck out of embarrassment, struggling to maintain eye contact with you.

“Oh shit. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I screwed up everything, didn’t I?”

As much as the heat in your cheeks increased, you couldn’t deny that you liked it. You’re bold enough to do it again.

“Nope,” you shook your head at him. “Kiss me again, Doyoung.”

Like a movie, the first snow of the season drizzled down on the two of you.

Feeling braver, he leaned forward again to meet your lips again. You may not be experienced physically since it was your first, but that’s what all those romance novels you’ve browsed through are for. Forget the fireworks, people would compare the ideal kiss. It was more like everything paused so this moment can run on its momentum. Lips still locked, Doyoung gripped your waist so you can sit on his lap. As the friction intensified, his lungs needed to breathe for a second. Pulling away slowly, it was an opportunity to take a good look at you. Flustered, messy hair, swollen lips, he would’ve never known that the feelings were mutual.

“First kiss under the first snow? I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

1950

Dating Doyoung gave you the best two years of your life. He’d bike with you to your spot, recommend you new books to read, cook for you when you’re too lazy to at the dorm, and take you around the city he was ever so familiar with.

“Oh c’mon, let’s try this out!”

You dragged his arm to this new contraption that can take your photos in a flash. This was at an annual city fair, your first time to attend one. Because your small village couldn’t cater to these kinds of events, you beamed with excitement with all the amusement outlets such as rides, games and more. All Doyoung wanted was to eat and play few games, then return. He wasn’t much for photos, but because it was your first, he decided to go for it. Two people couldn’t fit the cushion, so you settled on his lap. One arm wrapped behind his neck, you inserted a few coins to activate the machine.

“So we have a few seconds before it starts, so you better smile, okay?” He ordered you based on the instructions of the machine.

The first shot was matching grins, the second showed your bright smiles, the third let your creativity wild with silly expressions, and the last was him pecking your cheek unexpectedly. The authentic surprise was captured.

“Let’s take another one so you can have a copy.” You insisted, searching through the small pockets of your purse for more coins.

“(Y/N), it’s okay. I don’t want-” He was cut off by the machine activating again as your coins entered inside.

“Too late, smile!” The first shot almost caught Doyoung in a frenzy, but he pulled it off with an open smile. The second expressed your laughter from your slyness, him sporting crinkled eyes when you let your tongue out and placed your hands near the temples of your head to mock him. To sort out your playfulness, Doyoung surprised you by grabbing your wrists to place them back on his shoulders. Without a breath, one free hand tugged you closer and his lips shut you up. You deepened your kiss by leaning forward and fisting the hems of his buttoned-up top. Kissing back was natural, not caring where you were and if the camera snapped your moment of intimacy. Doyoung always liked taming you with his kisses. You didn’t mind making out for a bit in the booth if it weren’t for the loud knocking from the side put a stop to your risqué antics.

“Yah! Take your making out session someplace, other people are waiting outside!”

The both of you could care less, laughing mid-kissing at the disturbance you’ve caused. It’s a thing when you’re young and in love, perhaps. Eventually, innocent kisses ignited an invitation to his bed.

“I’ve never done this before, but I want to do it with you.” You gave your full consent, laying on his soft bed in your undergarments. His entire family went on vacation, so you took advantage of it.

The way he crawled on top of you, his slender hands spreading your legs wide open like another novel waiting to be unraveled. Erotica was a genre you never explored, but Doyoung finds it as his guilty pleasure. Who would’ve known that the most prestigious, gentleman-like man of the university found amusement in sex? His lingering touches intoxicated your entirety, allowing him access. His tongue did you wonders, releasing these sensations you’ve never known was possible. Tugging on his hair as he passionately devoured your core for the first time, this knot in your core unwound and your vision went white for a split second. This rush of pleasure and exhaustion filled your veins, yet you craved more.

That night, giving each other your virginities, marked the first time you declared your love for each other.

Though there are times when dating wasn’t easy either, having prying eyes around you with judgment and the unavoidable stress from university, you’d sort things out in the end. After all, it’s in fights and arguments where you learn more about each other and grow from it.

If someone asked you to settle down already, Doyoung is the first candidate for your hand. You’ve sent letters to your parents talking about him and met his family.

“You’re the only girl who softens him up in this society of uptight men.” His mother whispered when you helped her wash the dishes after dinner.

As much light he brought to your life those two years being together, it turned into the worst and something questionable when the Korean war began.

You vividly remember the day Doyoung admitted to you his enlistment in the South Korean army. It was mandatory for men his age to serve. His dream to pursue law was to be put on hold, especially when schools were closing down. Though he’d try to confide with himself that serving in this war is another way to help his country, his nationalism outweighed his fear of death. Just as long as it brings them closer to a better tomorrow, he was willing.

Unfortunately for you, you were terrified shitless because again, it’s a war. If your childhood wasn’t enough to recall all those painful emotions from the past world war, you didn’t know what would. Being able to survive is a miracle, so there was no way you would let Doyoung go. The ignorance you gave towards him to protect your heart, moving to your aunt and uncle’s home in the same city after the university suspended classes since going back to the village was a big struggle.

So many villages have been bombed already, increasing your anxiety. All you hoped now was to be reunited with your family safely. It’s a good thing though they already left as soon as they could and are on their way to the city. One normal day while you were teaching your younger cousins how to read, there was a knock on the front door. Since your aunt was busy cooking dinner, you took charge to open it in hopes you’ll find your family on the other side.

However, it was none other than that someone you still couldn’t face just yet. He wore the familiar dark green uniform with black combat boots, his fluffy hair fully shaved even it’s covered by his hat. By the dirt on his face, he must’ve trained earlier that day. With a heavy backpack behind him, he’s on his way somewhere but you didn’t know where. You closed the door behind you so you can speak to him privately.

“What are you doing here, Doyoung? How did you find me?”

“I knew you didn’t want to talk for a while, so I gave you space. But today, I found out that I’m going to be stationed in Seoul tomorrow.”

Seoul was where most of the war was happening. Your heart was shattered.

“So I went to your dorm, but your roommate told me you moved out and gave me this address here.” He answered honestly with this new burden to top it off, not having the courage to look you in the eyes to avoid crying. “I needed to see you, (Y/N).”

“Doyoung,” within those times of separation, you re-evaluated if running away from him was the right choice. Even if he tried to convince you of the good things about being in the army, everything always comes at a price. War meant his life was uncertain daily. You just wanted him to yourself, to stay by your side, to help out in the war in other ways, but it would be selfish to stop him from his goals. So you gently embraced him, making him drop his bag to the side. With extreme fear comes your soft whimpers against his chest. Rather than running away so fast, you should’ve mustered all those remaining bits of courage to spend it with him. He must be feeling terrified too.

“I’m just scared for you. War doesn’t guarantee anything. Us surviving world war two is still miraculous.” Doyoung winced at your truthful words as he returned that embrace. There go his tears that he shed almost every night since he told you about his enlistment.

“I had no choice, (Y/N). My family and I would be in big trouble if I didn’t follow orders.”

“I know. I’m sorry I ran away, Doyoung.” You continued to sob as you feel him stroke your hair from behind. He knew well that it was one way to calm you down.

“If only we didn’t live in harsh times like this.” He sighed, longing for the same thing. He cursed whoever decided to make him exist during a painful time. He would trade anything for a more peaceful life.

“Stay here for the night, please.” You pleaded, not wanting to waste any more time.

Your relatives were aware of your relationship, allowing such a request. They trusted you enough to sleep in the same room, knowing all too well the struggles of being love during times like this.

Neither of you held back from the tension that crept into the room. This time, you led him through the first kiss while his body laid flat on the cushion bed. On top, straddling him fully. Leaving him soft kisses on his neck while teasingly unbuttoning his pajama shirt, your fervent lips trailed from his neck, lowering to his sculpted abdomen, until you reached the waistband of his pajama pants.

Only in books did you learn about how to please men, so this may be the only time you can test it out. Doyoung stiffened on your soft kisses on his hard-clothed member, glancing him seductively back and forth when you stuck out your tongue.

“Please,” He begged, tugging on your hair. “Touch me.”

Your lips wrapped around his tip before gently going lower to your limit, and slowly sucked on it back and forth. Whenever you’d want to catch a breathe, you’d lick the tip teasingly. Doyoung groaned, threading his fingers along with your hair. He’s so used to be a giver that receiving these sensations by you beats his hand. It was heavenly, yet so vulgar. The way you swallowed his cum rather than spitting it out even if the taste wasn’t favorable, you were too much in a daze to process how sudden he switched positions. While you sprawled devilishly under him, your fingers looping on his dog tag necklace to bring him lower for a kiss while feeling two of his fingers go under your panties to teasingly play with your slick.

“Don’t t-tease...” You stuttered, clenching at how fast he can get you stimulated with his fingers.

The whole night long was consumed with his body against yours, the wet sounds of deep thrusts and muffled moans praising each other. The following morning, your naked bodies remained entangled. He was still in deep slumber when your body clock alarms you to wake up. though you couldn’t move when he had his arm around you. The love marks on his chest that you’ve made were more exposed when the sunlight hits him, your fingers carefully trailing on it so he wouldn’t be startled. He needed all the rest he can get.

If only you can have mornings like this when war wasn’t in the equation.

Bidding goodbye was tough. Breakfast was too quiet, just like how he packed his remaining belongings and dressed back to his uniform. You watched him by the patio as he waited for the bus to pick him up. When one finally arrived, he turned around to face you once more. He understood that neither of you wanted to say anything. It would make things harder.

You had to stay strong for him because he was fighting the scarier people. But as he waved goodbye, this was your only exception. Just before he boarded the bus,

“Fuck it.” You mumbled to yourself, running to him as your life depended on it.

“(Y/N), what are you-” Doyoung stopped at his tracks, awaiting your sudden move. You shut him up by desperately placing your lips against his, having that a tiny sliver of hope that it won’t be your last. His hands cradled your face while your arms tangled behind his neck.

It wasn’t until the annoyed coughs from the bus driver stopped your actions. Patting your dress from crinkling, Doyoung left a kiss on your forehead.

“Wait for me, alright? I’ll be back before you know it.” He reassured you.

“Fight strong and stay alive, Doyoung. I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you, (Y/N).” He caressed your cheek one last time, your hand cupping it.

“I love you too, Doyoung.”

Both of you made sure to write to each other, just anything to keep in touch from being apart.

Oh, if only you knew how long you’d have to wait before seeing each other again.

1951

Doyoung was stationed in the infantry division, always staying prepared for the plans his side made and the active attacks started from the enemy side. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s gotten critically injured and knocked out, but he fought through it with his upcoming plans in mind. How he must fight for the country and stay alive to see the change. How he wanted to have a future with you when everything settles down. It was his motivation every time.

But it took one surprise attack many months later from the enemy side to take it all away. When one of the senior officers was shot, he shielded him without hesitation. All these firing bullets were shot on his back, his legs wobbling from the impact. Due to the non-stop bleeding and lack of urgent medical attention, he painfully lost his life while holding on to his officer.

“Please tell my lover that I love her and I’m sorry.”

Those were his last words before he took one final breath and flatlined.

Seconds later, his soul flowed outside his body and froze at the trippy feeling while witnessing different officers and people on the medic team mourn in front of his dead body. Taeyong, one of the people he befriended from the medic team, tried to wake him repeatedly.

“Doyoung, please don’t joke around. Wake up, please.”

Even if he knew it was hopeless, he did his best to the point his entire team had to pull him away from his best friend’s lifeless body.

“No, he needs to live! He has a family, big dreams, and a girl waiting back in Busan!” He sobbed in his chest. Out of all the people he tried to resuscitate, Doyoung was the first friend that he came across on this occasion. Doyoung ached at this vulnerable sight, wanting so badly to be by his side. With these surprise attacks, death is more prevalent than ever.

“Kim Doyoung?” An unfamiliar voice called for him from behind. He spun around to find one woman in war uniform, though he’s never encountered her in the field, and a man in all black.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Manwol, and he’s the grim reaper. I believe you just died a few minutes ago, correct?”

The truth was piercing to accept, glancing at his lifeless body on the side with Taeyong and another close friend he made, Jungwoo, crying his heart out.

“Are you going to take me already?” He asked.

“Unless you still have things you want to accomplish in the living world, then you can freely go to the other side.” The grim reaper answered monotonously, very much used to this question.

“From the looks of it, you have a lot you want to do still,” Manwol observed from afar, all too familiar with the feeling. “If you come with us, I can help you accomplish them.”

If something stayed with Doyoung until his last breath, it was his skepticism with the supernatural. He was unsure if he can trust them because according to the books, once you’re dead, that’s it. It’s up to the people around him to speak good or bad of him.

“You’re uncertain with our intentions, aren’t you?” Manwol easily read through his stoic expression. “You’ll be surprised with how many things can debunk from the books if you let us, Doyoung.”

For the first time, Doyoung had no clue what and where to go next. No one wrote a book on how to act like a cold, wandering soul. His dreams were limited, meaning he has to find new ones or tweak them a lot to make it possible. Despite her reserved nature, he figured that Manwol looked like someone who knows what she’s talking about. With the grim reaper he’s read in children’s books, he wasn’t as frightening as he was portrayed.

This was his last shot.

“Guide me, please.”

The car ride alone there was messy and bumpy since it was peak war season. He wasn’t the only person who lost their life that night and riding in the vehicle. He recognized a few of them. It was saddening to find the playful Donghyuck, his youngest companion, beside him.

“I sacrificed myself to protect two unarmed nurses in the medic tent when some enemy soldiers charged inside.”

Another was the wise Taeil, who was stationed by the barracks. He was one of the people in the front of in line for battle.

“I thought they were fooling with us, and then suddenly fired multiple attacks. I caught on to it quickly, but they still got me.”

Doyoung remembered all those times he used to ask for love advice from him when it grew hard to be far from you. But that advice is no longer useful when he’s further away from you. He was dead, you weren’t.

Once the three of them arrived at their destination, it was an inn that looked destroyed from the outside, but very organized on the inside. Donghyuck and Taeil decided already what they wanted to do before they cross the other side. Doyoung, on the other hand, was still contemplating.

Manwol knew well how to spot a heartbroken person, being one herself. She wasn’t one to interfere with these affairs, but maybe she’d make an exception. Seeing right through him, he lived a fruitful life. She saw his sacrifice, picking up on his last words being dedicated for you, his lover. He didn’t die in vain.

When the two men were off to follow their plans, Manwol took this chance to approach the downcast man again.

“Is something you holding you back from going…” She questioned, staying by his side for a moment. “…or a special someone?”

“I promised my lover to fight strong and to stay alive while she promised to keep waiting for me. But here I am. She has yet to know that I didn’t make it and I can’t bear to see her in utter pain.”

“Death during a war isn’t new, Doyoung. A lot of promises become broken.”

“But I had so much I wanted to do with her after, Manwol. I can’t just leave her yet, I want to stay by her side even if we can’t see each other physically.”

Based on the information Manwol received about Doyoung from the inn staff, it came to her attention that he was fond of books. Thus, it gave her an idea.

“Doyoung, you’re very similar to the staff here. They all have goals that take years to accomplish, so I gave them a job here.”

“What are you offering me then, Manwol?”

“I have a library here in dire need of a librarian. With your interest in books, would you like to take it? After all, I’m implying that you’d want to wait for your lover to make up for your broken promise.”

Doyoung can’t deny that she was wrong. This was where his journey at Manwol Inn (then became Hotel Del Luna) started. Time worked a little bit differently as a ghost, but it’ll be worth it until you return in his arms one day.

On the day you regrettably received the letter from the military about the tragedy, life has turned for the worst. Upon seeing a soldier by your front step, it was only an innocent habit to give him letters for Doyoung and receiving new ones. However, his hand halted you to hand over a military logo imprinted envelope addressed to you alongside his tidy military uniform other letters from Doyoung.

His last letters.

You had no courage to even complete reading it when the first few lines weren’t enough to taunt you. Nothing could prepare for this dreaded moment.

“We regret to inform you that a report from the war office has confirmed that Kim Doyoung was a casualty of the sudden attack of Seoul. this letter formally declares that he was killed in action....”

Dropping the god-forsaken letter in your hands, you instantly locked yourself in your room. Your parents, who picked it up to read, came running to your door and tediously knocking for you to open it. But you didn’t listen, the heartbreak being too grave.

You tried so hard to keep it together these past months. but this kind of grief resulted in your feeble figure pouring into a heap of salty tears and loud sobs. Your back against the wall smoothly slid down until your butt landed on the floor. You clutched on to your gut that continuously stabbed you back and forth.

Betrayal was an understatement, yet it was beyond his control. War guarantees nothing.

But not when you needed him more than ever, especially when the biggest yet most unexpected news came upon you. All nausea and wild mood swings in the weeks that followed after he left weren’t normal, only to find out that you were expecting his child.

It was a secret you didn’t know how to confront through letters because it was best to tell him in person. Due to the situation, it was impossible. Only in your latest letter did you finally come clean about it, but it was now never to be sent because he has already passed away. Your entire family wasn’t pleased with this outcome but they didn’t shame you for it either. It was your choice and body after all.

They were concerned about how others will perceive you in the long run. An unmarried woman carrying a dead man’s child is taboo in this conservative society. Yet abortion is seen in a bad light too. You were stuck in a double edge sword, but you knew from the beginning that you wanted to keep the child. It’s a struggle, for sure, and your plans will have to wait.

Amid this bad luck, this unborn child is the last closest piece of Doyoung.

Amongst your unavoidable flow of tears that you knew must be stopped so it wouldn’t badly affect your child, you placed a hand on top of your lower belly. There was already an evident swelling bump, but your choice to continue wearing loose clothing to swerve from the public’s judgment covered it fine.

Well, for now. Only in the last trimester, it was going to be a challenge.

“I’m sorry you won’t be meet your father....” You spoke, rubbing it upwards. “....But I’ll make sure to take good care of you. You’re all I have left of him.”

Ever since Doyoung accepted Manwol’s offer, he never left his spot at the library. He was amazed at the endless arrangements of books. Even the western books his parents banned him from reading as a child were there. All this entertainment can distract from the long time he has to wait.

Except for today specifically, he asked Jeno, a new friend he made who also lost his life during the Korean war, to take over for a few hours when he found out that mail was to be delivered in Busan.

“Hyung, are you sure?”

“I just need to see her, Jeno.”

Doyoung expected the heartache when he saw you cry in your bedroom after finding out, and he couldn’t refrain from crying with you. Even as a soul, he’d do anything to cradle you in his arms and say that things will get better in time. How he wanted to tell you to take your time in life and that he’s willing to wait until your time comes. Whenever it could be.

Sadly, he was right there listening to you talk to your unborn child. The disbelief of in his reaction; he was supposed to be a father. Sure, he was relatively young. People won’t approve of it because you were unmarried. But it was an early start to settling down with each other.

It took him a while to accept his unfortunate fate, but for him to be robbed of this meaningful part in life was more unbearable to deal with.

From that point, he made sure to watch over you even if he was invisible. Even if Manwol advised him not to so it won’t complicate anything, he reassured that he has it under control. As a ghost without any grudges, what’s there to throw a fit at? He could retaliate at the enemy soldiers who shot him fearlessly, but they are nowhere to be found and he had no interest to turn into ashes.

The only time he assisted you was when you were giving birth. It was an excruciating process, sweating and breathing intensely. You let a scream every time you pushed, like any of the herbs or medications you consumed were wearing off. Your body wanted to give up as it weakened at the loss of blood.

Childbirth is no joke, having high mortality rates during these times. It was a tempting choice you’d want to take as Doyoung is no longer alive. But you knew it was selfish to leave your child as an orphan.

Doyoung couldn’t withstand watching you struggle anymore. If there was a trick Manwol taught him, it was to possess people. It’s often portrayed as a negative skill, warning him to only use it when it’s an emergency.

The pitiful way your eyes were drained off energy, he had to step in. Observing the midwife panicking on your side even if she was giving you support, he took his chance to possess her. Adjusting to this body, it made him glad to feel your warm hand again.

“(Y/N), your child is almost here.” The doctor positively announced.

“I want a breather. The grim reaper should just take me.” You complained as your mother wiped the endless drops of sweat on your forehead. Doyoung took it to heart, knowing death firsthand was no joke.

“Yah, don’t say stuff like that, (Y/N). This child is bound to be an amazing addition to your life.”

You didn’t know how your timid midwife would straighten you up, but it motivated you a lot more to finish the process. Little did you know.

She gladly accepted your firm grips on her hand, giving affirmative responses to keep you going. In moments you closed your eyes to push, you couldn’t help notice in the corner of your eye how from the physique of your midwife, you swore you saw him. His hand holding yours instead of the midwife.

Was this in the medication? For a moment, you let a tear not from pain but from happiness to catch a glimpse of him in your weakest moment. Every day, you were missing him.

It took almost half an hour before a small set of wails bore in the room while you harshly threw yourself back in the bed to recover your breathing patterns. It knocked you out for a while. Doyoung, still possessing the midwife, was handed the newborn by the doctor and tasked to clean her up.

“It’s a healthy baby girl.” the doctor confirmed as he wiped away the blood on the floor.

He was then brought by your mother to a designated room to bathe the relaxed newborn in his arms.

His newborn.

His desire to phase out of the midwife and use his skill to be visible while holding his child was strong. But it’s too risky since the midwife can catch him. He sucked it up and proceeded in what the books taught him on bathing a baby. During his break time, he’d read all the parenting books he could find. It’ll be rare anyways for him to use the tips, but he always wanted to stay prepared.

As the bubbles of the soap surrounded the relaxed baby, he washed her delicately to avoid her from waking up. He was just mesmerized at how you and he created something so precious. He used to be the type of man to be awkward around kids, but after catering to many children in the library and now his child, it started to change.

“Hello there, little one. Your mother needs you, so you better be good to her.”

Ghosts were highly discouraged to make any more emotional connections with the living because they’ll just end up being hurt, making it harder to move on. Exactly what Doyoung is doing was that, and the more he bonded with his daughter, it was a rekindled kind of pain. The kind when you separate family from each other. The same one he felt when he bid his parents good-bye before joining the war, only to never come back.

To top this off, the tiny hand of his sleeping daughter, whom he finally dried off with a small towel and wrapped in a fresh blanket, sleepily grasped on his pinky finger. Technically, it was the midwife’s, but he was in control.

Nonetheless, the innocent gesture got him both feeling on top of the moon and disheartened at the same time. As he curled it in a silly manner, noticing the size difference, he leaned down to leave a kiss on top of her forehead.

“I’m sorry I’m going to miss out on your life. But I’ll always be here for you, even if I’m in the shadows. Don’t ever question my love for you. Because I do love you, wholeheartedly.”

Kim Areum.

That was the name you settled with when your daughter was finally in your arms. It’s ideal to give Doyoung’s last name too because she is half of him. After resting for quite a while, you noticed how the midwife suddenly shook her body and took a loud deep breath when she helped out cleaning the area up.

“Are you okay?” You question, noticing her state of confusion.

“Uhm, yeah....” She narrowed her eyes to her environment. “Oh wait, you gave birth already? Wow, that was pretty fast...”

“Yes, you were right beside me the whole time...” You glanced sideways at her, suspicious.

“Oh wow yeah, I was.” She tried to laugh it off. “It was like I had an out-of-this-world moment or something. Oh whatever, I sound stupid.”

That brought you back to your early doubts. Whether or not he showed up or you were somewhat hallucinating. But not wanting to reflect too much on the impossible, you merely refocused to the peaceful newborn nestled in your arms.

She’s the only one keeping you alive in these hard times. She served as a reminder of him, thus you’ll hold on to her. From the outside of your window, all Doyoung can do now is to continue watching from afar every once in a while.

1954

Not much has changed in the past few years. You were either reading or taking care of Areum. Your family was lucky enough to have good housing, but getting important necessities such as water and food was a constant struggle.

With the war leading to lots of souls in the inn, he had to fulfill his mandatory orders to prepare souls to move on. He was joyful to be of service to others like he was back in the day.

Though lately, it’s still unavoidable for him to ponder how exactly are you and his daughter are doing. Once Donghyuck and Taeil went ahead for the afterlife, the loneliness began to creep in. Then a while ago, Jeno introduced him to a new group of children today checking out the library. Caught in a deadly car accident on their way home from school, he pitied how such bright kids left the world too soon.

These factors sparked his longing, plus there was still something above that: it was your birthday soon. Much to his luck, Manwol just received a new gift from the deities that might be his biggest help in coping.

“A dream call?” Doyoung inquired once he was summoned by Manwol to the meeting room, sitting across her.

“Yes, a call to anyone from the living that you wish to talk to in their dreams. Though this can only be used once per visitor. The deities pitied those with loved ones who want to see them physically. Thus, they invented this.”

“What are you implying?”

“Doyoung, you know well how easy I can read people even through their fake smiles. You miss her very much.” Manwol replied, holding up the phone to his ear. “This is your chance, Doyoung. Even if you can’t see them, they will see you.”

The first dream started with you sitting at your old spot by the river, in a simple dress Doyoung bought for you on your last ever birthday celebration with him. The forest looked breathtaking as if it was still pre-war times again. The river was still clear of blood and pollution. It must be spring, the flowers above you on the tree were in full bloom.

The sound of bike wheels stopping to park in the grass and someone humming changed your point of interest. There was the only person in your mind who would do that. Jumping from your seated position, you looked behind the other side of the tree only to find him picking up flowers from the branches. He was tall, not having much difficulty getting them.

The way he looked so peaceful and well-rested. This beauty and peace of mind he radiated, it was unreal.

“Doyoung.”

He clenched on the phone with his hand, his concealed yearning to at least hear his name on your lips again urged a tear to go down his cheek.

“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”

He handed you the flower bouquet he made for you. Meanwhile, he suddenly dropped it when you didn’t hesitate to sling your arms around his waist. Your head pressed to his chest, pulling him closer you could care less if you lost your breath. Doyoung felt that tight hug, gripping on the part of his uniform where you placed your head. He rubbed it as if it was your hair.

None of you spoke a word and gracefully paused to take a moment.

Time in a dream call works a bit differently than in the living world. Once you’re in session, one minute alone of talking is equivalent to 30 minutes in the living world.

Doyoung took his first call to catch up with you and say everything he never got to before. It was also where he confessed how he knew about your daughter. There were guilt and regret at how you could’ve told him in your earlier letters.

“You were scared, (Y/N). There’s no way I can blame you.” Laying against his chest, he comforted you. “By the way, she has your nose, you know.”

There was this wave of relief that splashed you after this big burden lifted. You can live a more untroubled life now.

“She has your temper though.” You jokingly say, putting you in a fit of giggles. It’s been too long since you experienced genuine humor.

“At age 3? Yah, I’m impressed.” He remarked with pride.

Since Doyoung wasn’t capable to be physically affectionate in the dreams, he was more on receiving them from you. In return, he gave sincere conversations even if they were a yearly thing. Talking about your daughter was one of your favorite topics. adolescence, teenage years, to university, there was so much to talk about. Doyoung would only use his dream calls on you on your birthday, making them more meaningful. Each one, you were both back to your twenties with different outfits and settings based on the differing decades.

“Don’t you feel burdened to wait for me?” You asked as his fingers brushed some of your hair back while you watched the sunset from a wooden bench.

“No, I’m not. there are still many things I want to fulfill before moving on. I also want to watch Areum grow up and help you in any possible. Only when these goals of mine and others are cleared, then I‘ll be able to rest well.”

“Will you be okay until then, Doyoung?”

“I broke a promise with you, (Y/N). and I want to make up for it.”

“What will you do when my time comes?” Your hand interlocked with his, squeezing it tight even if he couldn’t reciprocate it.

“I will shout out your name and hug you tight, my love. But until then, appreciate your life. Live it to its fullest. For me.”

Doyoung sensed your worry but comforted you that it’ll be okay. He wasn’t lying either when he said he wanted to do a lot of things too. Every dream call, his gut feelings were strong to know what you were going through in every call, giving you any advice to get you through them.

To count, he gave you almost 50 dream calls.

The late 1950s-1960s

After returning to university to finish your undergraduate studies when the war ended, you continued to pursue law school and taking the exams as you’ve wanted. But this meant moving to Seoul for better opportunities.

Doyoung celebrated with himself when he found out, not having to take the bus or ride the hotel car to Busan every time he wanted to see you two. Now, he could simply walk back and forth, managing it with his shifts.

Currently, he was taking a break in his office. The deities gifted him with a bunch of murder mystery books from the West, fully immersed in the storylines. Leaning backward from his chair, he was abruptly disconnected by a knock on his open door.

“Hyung, you have a special visitor in the lobby.” Jeno urgently informed Doyoung as he leaned on the side of his office door, out of breath. “It’s quite important if you ask me.”

Doyoung removed his reading glasses and put down his novel. Putting back his blazer on, he approached his younger friend and made their way down the hallway together hastily.

“Is it a family member who’s passed?” He questioned, slightly folding his blazer sleeves then adjusting the hotel pin on his chest pocket. By the tone Jeno spoke, it must’ve been serious. Although there’s no way it can be you just yet, he has no idea who was looking for him then.

The lobby was bustling with numerous souls. Some still fresh, some just roaming around, while others were preparing to pass the other side. Nothing new to it, until Jeno pointed out a specific scene in one corner of the room.

“Hyung, over there.”

Like an obedient puppy, Doyoung looked over to where Jeno’s finger directed. At first glance, by her long black hair, he recognized Manwol, who was kneeling in front of someone seated. It wasn’t until she stood up and shifted her body to the side to reveal that someone, patting her young head kindly.

She wore a ribbon on her hair, matching with the colors of her floral dress while carefully holding on to a piece of paper with her drawing. Due to the distance, he couldn’t make out what she drew. Though with her dazzling eye smile formed by her small eyes, he knew her too well.

“Areum.”

Right on cue, the young girl caught his entrancing gaze. With the widest smile, she exclaimed “Daddy!”

Manwol, who was right beside her, held her hand and graced their way to Doyoung and Jeno. The two knew she despised children, ordering them to keep a keener eye on them when they wander around so they don’t access the hallway leading to her office. Unexpectedly, Areum didn’t burden her the slightest. She brought a different aura, a very pure and full of love kind.

With the full moon shining at its peak, becoming present to the eyes of the living, she must’ve spotted the hotel from afar and her interest grew wild for it. Typical for girls her age. Not afraid of the risks, she followed any directions to get here. Coincidentally, she encountered Manwol in the front gate.

Manwol recognized her straight away, even when she glimpsed the drawing of her family she treasured in her chest. She still included her father, whom she was very much acquainted with. Though, she was puzzled by her sudden appearance. When Areum explained that her father lived in the hotel according to your stories, her heart fell to her gut. Indeed, she was right, but again, ghosts are discouraged to have connections with the living or anything related to it. However, her strong senses couldn’t disregard how much Doyoung yearned for his family. Lately, his only daughter when numerous children arrived at the hotel. He didn’t want to voice it out however because the other staff shared the same sentiments, so it would be insensitive so he just kept it to himself. But Manwol sensed it all too well.

She won’t tell anyone this, but she has quite a soft spot for Doyoung. She empathized with him the most since he came to the hotel, willing to do what it takes to make his coping and waiting worthwhile. She was still brash at times, but only when necessary.

Areum’s presence didn’t seem to harm anyone, charming anyone around with a smile and her words. Especially that smile, it shows enough of how much she’s Doyoung’s daughter. With a rough internal debate, Manwol welcomed her inside the magical hotel Areum described it as and tasked Jeno to call for Doyoung. It was a risk, but a needed one.

With Manwol innocently holding the young girl’s hand, she looked her down and asked her, “Is that your father from your drawing, Areum?”

Areum lit up as she tilted her head upwards to see her tall father, nodding proudly. “Yes, that’s him! The one my mom talks about in her dreams too!”

Doyoung’s heart swelled at her pride for him, not hesitating to kneel to her height. Arms wide open, he loudly called her out for the first time. “Areum!”

The young girl, letting go of Manwol’s hand, ran as fast as her short legs could like nothing can stop her, even if the lobby was packed. Soon enough, she’s at the grasp of her father, carrying and hugging her in circles. Light as a feather, he took in her scent and warmth. The racing beat of her heart pulsated against his chest, reminding how much life she’s filled with. It was liberating that she found him, even when he stood behind the dark shadows.

Once he put her back down, “What brings you here, Areum? Isn’t it past your bedtime already?”

She pouted, sulking at disobeying your rules. “I know, but as soon as I was ready for bed, I saw the hotel in bright lights just like mommy described. She said that only during the peak full moon it’ll be shown to very special people who are alive, and it turns out that I’m one of them, daddy.”

Hearing that title from her lips was something he would’ve never get sick of. He felt the validity more than ever.

The odds of being a human spotting the hotel during peak full moon was rare, earning perplexed looks by those who don’t see it. Doyoung never encountered a human waltzing in the hotel out of the bloom, so for his daughter to have this mystical ability was a gift in disguise. Maybe the deities knew how to cut off some slack and agony for wandering souls. This was an excuse to stop cursing them now and then.

“Wow, aren’t you a lucky girl for that?” Jeno, whom he forgot was by his side, patted her head similarly to Manwol. “Your father missed you dearly, you know?”

“Well, Mr. Jeno,” She picked up his name from his nametag. “I missed him too.”

Doyoung processed the features of the angelic girl in front of him, astonished at how you and he created someone so cheerful during a time of trouble. Aside from her eye smile, she had his gummy smile and curiosity, while she inherited your nose and intelligence. Cupping her chubby cheek, he pinched it with a cute sound effect from his mouth.

“Daddy!” She protested, slapping his hand away and dramatically covered her reddening cheek. “Not allowed to that, ever.”

Oh, you weren’t joking when you said she had his temper too.

Before he could defend himself, Manwol reentered their interaction. Like common sense, Doyoung got back on his feet but helplessly giving side glances to his daughter. Manwol giggled at his sudden formality before instructing Jeno to lead Areum to the carnival room. As Areum waves him goodbye for the meantime, Manwol added on.

“There’s a rise of kids checking in the hotel, unfortunately, so I wholeheartedly requested the deities to create an area dedicated for child-like fun. Just today, it’s finished in construction so it’s a great place for Areum to explore.”

“Manwol, I-” He was feeling overwhelmed, stumbling his words. “Why did you this for me?”

“You used your dream calls for (Y/N), but there’s never been a way for you to reach out to your daughter. And the way her glimmering eyes wanted to come in when she shouldn’t, I couldn’t refuse a chance for the two to reunite.”

“But what about the deities?”

“I’ll handle it. What matters is that you have tonight to spend with Areum. It’s the least thing I could do as you are one of my beloved staff,” She reassured, yet looked at him in a downcast manner. “But as much as possible, everything tonight must feel like a vivid dream to her. She’s not allowed to keep any knick-knacks from tonight either.”

Everything always came at a price. Doyoung was acquainted well enough, but he can’t lie to say that I didn’t ache. Nonetheless, Manwol having such a selfless side was completely new to him. That’s why he never asked for favors like the other staff since he’ll just get turned down or scolded like a child. Maybe she wasn’t as scary as to how they labeled her all these years he’s worked for her.

Manwol took Doyoung’s silence under the impression of internal conflict. In true Manwol fashion, she clapped her hands right in front of his visage, snatching him back to reality. “You’re wasting time, Doyoung! Don’t think about it too much right now. Now come on and dress up more casually, your daughter is waiting for you.”

Following her order, he bowed respectfully before zooming to his hotel room. She was right, he has to enjoy whatever is given. Demanding for more when you’re already dead is disrespectful to the eyes of the deities, considering that alongside your past life when you step into the afterlife.

From his uniform, he changed into a white long sleeve buttoned-up, which was layered under a lilac knit sweater, and black trousers. He styled his hair in a dandier way, applying gel then combing it upwards. He was only following the trends of the decade, basing it on the recently checked-in souls. Deities must’ve liked him a lot to give him a lot of gifts from time to time, making him completely disregard the money from the living world Manwol gives during his off days. Most of the time, his off days are spent either secretly observing you and your daughter, or reading more books in the library.

This one was like a change of scenery, his heart pumping once he exited to the elevator and rushed to the carnival room. And just as he entered the doors, the wave of nostalgia hit him instantaneously. It felt like he was in university again, bringing you around the bizarre contraptions and games for the first time for your amusement. A spark in your romance, so full of young love and naivety of what was to come.

He spotted his young girl wrapped around in the arms of Jeno, explaining to her about the wide range of rides as she licked on a rainbow lollipop. Once he showed up to the both of them, Jeno cautiously put her down so she can hold Doyoung’s hand.

“You deserve this, hyung. Make it worthwhile.” Jeno placed his hand on his older friend’s shoulder before leaving the room. Keeping it in mind, Doyoung kneeled again in front of his daughter. Her smiles were contagious, fascinated by everything she’s surrounded in.

“I’ve never seen anything like this, daddy.” That line sounded familiar, chuckling at the precious memory.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s have fun tonight!”

The bliss in tonight was never-ending, like the two of them were in their own world. Areum wanted to ride on a horse in a carousel first, which Doyoung agreed to. Lifting her, he held her by the waist as the ride started to go. She pointed out every object that she can see while Doyoung avidly listened, then telling her what each ride and game consists of in return.

Once they got off, her short legs scurried off to the game booth where rows of bottles were laid in front of her. Right beside her were the rings. Doyoung properly described the instructions, and on the dot, Areum went ham and started throwing the rings in random directions. By the way, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed, her competitive side was evident. Doyoung observed as she either hit or miss, finding another trait of his in her.

You’d find it hard to believe, but she would’ve been a total daddy’s girl.

To her success, she squealed victoriously as she won and hugged her dad. One of the staff in charge rewarded her with new candy to munch on, and off she went to look for the next attraction to divulge in. Doyoung struggled a little catching up to her, but anything he would do for his daughter.

From a one on one balloon dart game, which Doyoung willingly let Areum won because she’s a fussy one, roaming through a mini house of mirrors, riding the indoor Ferris wheel, and many more, Areum was ready to move to the next venue after telling her father that she wanted him to read to her.

“Mommy said you’re a librarian here because you like reading. I like it too, can you take me there?”

Just like you, he was charmed by his daughter. “Alright, Areum. Let’s go there then.”

Before they made it through past the wide doors with the bright red sign above saying “Exit”, Areum’s attention was distracted by a black kiosk near the Ferris wheel. She followed her gut, changing her direction. Doyoung quickly followed her footsteps, only to turn up in front of a photo booth.

“Wow, are these where you can take instant pictures, daddy?”

Waves of nostalgia hit Doyoung as if he were on the beach, totally unprepared for the emotional impact. With Areum, he missed your presence more than ever. Having you there completed your family, and it could’ve been quite a reunion.

“Yes, Areum. How about you go inside and daddy will insert some coins so you can have your pictures taken?”

“But daddy, I want to take pictures with you! It’s only mommy that has pictures with you, and I don’t want to feel left out.” She threw a tantrum, crossing her arms.

Here she goes again, making it difficult for Doyoung to refuse. Even with Manwol only giving him one rule to follow for the night, he doesn’t want any bad memories to be made with his daughter. He’ll have to work it out one way or another later. In the meantime, he smirked before carried her out of the blue inside the booth. Her shrieks increased in volume, only softening after she settled on her father’s lap. Doyoung inserts a few coins, and swiftly enough, the contraption started to operate.

“Okay Areum, one photo strip has 4 solo photos in it. 4 smiles or poses, okay? You’re going to look at the lens there, in the shape of a circle. Then, the flash is going to show in 3, 2-” Right on time, the two smiled.

They had less than 10 seconds until the second shot, so the two pulled random funny expressions. Doyoung pouted his lips, while Areum stuck out her tongue. For the third photo, Doyoung kissed the top of her head while Areum poked her cheeks with her fingers. Lastly, Areum instructed her father to lower his head to her level so she can peck his cheek. His shock was perfectly taken, filling his heart with adoration.

Areum hating getting affection but loves giving it? Another trait of his.

The look of amazement Areum gave once she stepped foot on the endless library was priceless. She described how it was bigger than the national library in Seoul. While she strolled around the near shelves, Jeno, taking over his night shift, approached him with a bottled treat. But it wasn’t just a normal one.

“Manwol and I overheard that she liked strawberry milk, so Manwol told me to give it to you. It has the dream spell potion from Johnny’s bar mixed with flowers from the deities so she can’t see ghosts or the hotel anymore. Make sure she drinks it before she leaves this place.”

While Areum settles on the small couch with her chosen books, she patiently anticipated for her father to read to her before her yawning takes over her. She never tracked the time, but she’s gone way beyond her average curfew.

“Sleepy already, sweetheart?” Doyoung asked as he sat beside her, inspecting her drowsy state.

Areum shook her head, displaying all the books she got on the table in front of her. “Nope! Not until you read me a bedtime story.”

Doyoung scanned through her book selection, amazed by her choices. The Little Prince, Winnie the Pooh, Goodnight Moon, and a bunch of Madeline books from the series, he couldn’t decide! If only he could read them all for her.

A lot of those books he read growing up, and the same goes for you. Especially Madeline, which he discovered through you as one of your childhood favorites. By instinct, he chose the first book from the series, simply entitled “Madeline”.

“This one.” He patted his lap so she could sit on it, which she did without wasting a breath.

It was ironic for a librarian to have never read aloud for anyone during his stay. Maybe because no one asked him to nor he wasn’t into reading aloud. He preferred reading to himself, only helping those looking for specific books or recommending if anyone has a favorite genre. Maybe he’ll give it a shot now. This first-hand experience opened his eyes to a new type of intimacy, hearing the adorable reactions from his daughter as he read the life of Madeline in Paris.

“In the middle of one night, Miss Clavel turned on her light and said, “Something is not right!”.” Doyoung flipped the next page. “Little Madeline sat in bed, cried and cried-”

“She cried to get attention, huh?” Areum commented mid-reading.

“Areum, if she didn’t, she could get even sicker. We don’t want that, right?”

“If I cried like that, would that be enough to bring you back to me and mommy, daddy?” She wholesomely questioned, twisting her body weight so she could face him. “Mommy already has a way to reach to you, and I want something like that too”

Doyoung knew she was a smart girl, but she often denies the reality of some things. In this case, her father’s passing still hasn’t hit her, even if she possessed the mystical skill to see ghosts and the hotel. Doyoung felt cornered, so before he could think of a reply, he kindly asks her,

“Hmm, what do you have in mind, sweetheart?”

“Well,” She pouted as she fidgeted with her index fingers. “I read all your old letters to mommy, so maybe I can write you one every year.”

“What a great idea, sweetheart!” He cheered. “How will you give it?”

“Uh..” She paused to think, then a bright idea came to her. “During your birthday, daddy! Mommy and I still celebrate it if you don’t know, so I can offer it alongside the food.”

Doyoung played along, knowing that tradition of yours. Although it still aches him to show up on his death anniversary, he compromised by showing up on his birthday. He’d see his and your families celebrating, talking about the positive and fun things about him in his life. He observed his daughter a little more later when she got older and started talking. Whenever you praised him for something, there was hope and inspiration in her young eyes. It’s uplifting to discover that his legacy was seen in a good light. He’d never wanted to be seen as a bad guy to anyone.

“I’ll look forward to it, sweetheart. Promise?” He stuck out his pinky to her, getting curled in response by hers.

“Promise!”

Both of them chuckled, appreciating the moment. His long arms embraced her from the back, nuzzling his head on his shoulder. How blessed to have a daughter like her, but from a glance, the bottle of strawberry milk situated beside the pile of books gave a remembrance of one of his remaining tasks. It had to be done, but he hoped she won’t at least forget to write to him.

“Look! Miss Manwol wanted to give this to you.” He handed it to her.

Ecstatic, she cranked open the bottle cap and took tiny sips of it. “It’s so good, daddy!”

Doyoung softly laughed as excess milk drops dribbled in her lips, wiping it with his thumb. “Aigoo, you messy girl. Let’s continue, shall we?”

Cozying up to him again, Doyoung resumed his storytelling. Once he said the words, “The end.”, the small head of his daughter completely leaned against his chest. Snuggling for more comfort, he checked her current condition. Knocked out like a light, he puts the book down and cradled her for a second. The last time he did something like this was when she was born. She was tiny then, and now, she’s bound to outgrow his lap sooner or later.

This was his sign to bring her home.

He boosted her small figure, her head now planted on his shoulder and his hand resting behind the nape of her neck. Her legs were entangled in his torso when he showed up at the lobby again. It was much more serene, everyone checked in already.

“Aigoo, fast asleep already?” Manwol made an appearance without warning, alongside her personal driver Yuta and the bartender Johnny.

“As expected from my magic.” Johnny commended himself, stretching his fingers. That easily gave him a slap from Yuta.

“Can’t you be more sensitive to Doyoung?”

Not caring about those two, Manwol caressed Areum from behind. Inside her cold heart, she brought so much amusement. Even if she embodied traits from Doyoung, she stood out from his usual reserved nature. She had so much energy, and it’s a fresh sight. Manwol secretly peered at their father-daughter time in the library, and she sensed the love the two had for each other. Even if it’s unbearable to separate them, having tonight was a pleasure for all.

“Yuta,” She summoned him. “Drop these two to her house safe and sound. It’s too dangerous to walk in the dark right now.”

Bowing in response, he led the way to the elevator for Doyoung to follow. But before he took the first step, Manwol halted him by the arm. “You better come back, or the deities won’t be pleased.”

He nodded before he was sent on his way. Wasn’t this brutal?

The silence in the car ride is deafening, though he didn’t want to disturb his little girl either. Yuta peeked from the mirror now and then to check on the two, sharing the gloom of his fellow friend. Having something or someone so valuable from the living world makes it hard to leave it. He understood as he suffered a similar fate to him.

When they’ve arrived at their destination, Doyoung was quick to notice that the lights from your living room were still on. It’s too risky to waltz in through the front door, squinting for other ways to go inside. To his luck, the window of Areum’s bedroom was wide open. That must’ve been how she escaped earlier.

“Be careful, Doyoung. Her neighbors may be watching.”

“It’s around 4 am right now, Yuta. I’ll be fine.” He reassured, clicking open the car door with his daughter peacefully asleep.

Entering inside her bedroom, he gently put her down on her soft bed. Covering her body with the duvet so she wouldn’t get cold, he took one last lingering look before taking his leave. Manwol might be looking for him already. Pressuring even to know that Yuta was waiting outside for him and that the deities are looking down on him too.

“Daddy,” Her tiny hand tugged on his sleeve, stopping his movements. Her droopy eyes faintly ajar, wanting to capture these last dreamy moments. “Don’t leave me and mommy again.”

This retouched attachment between the two made things much more stifling to accept reality. Doyoung understood her fright and sighed, kneeling to her again. Patting her head, “I’m sorry but I have no choice, sweetheart. We don’t want daddy to get in trouble, right?”

She lazily nods, tugging on his sleeve again. “Can you sing me to sleep, daddy? You used to do that for mommy.”

He grinned, accepted her last request. Holding on her hand, kissing it, he quietly sings.

“Eonjebuteoinji geudaereul bomyeon….”

When the song reached its end, the soft snores from Areum filled his eardrums. Her eyes are fully closed, and her tiny head fell to the side of her pillow. Kissing her forehead, he whispered, “Good night, sweetheart. Daddy loves you so much.”

A cute sight to Doyoung, she occupied a huge part in his heart. Even if everything tonight will feel like a complete dream, it’s a memorable moment for Doyoung that he’ll treasure.

Initially, he planned to leave her bedroom the same way he came in, which was through her window. That’s all Manwol tasked him to do when he arrives at your house, but his heart selfishly desires to see you. Even if he was invisible now. His powers were weakening, twitching from being visible to invisible back and forth.

Never has he stepped inside your new house, and this could be his only chance.

The first thing he saw after leaving his daughter’s bedroom was the dining room. Tidy and organized, as expected from you. For the living room connected to it, the simple decorations invited him inside. Assorted photos hung in the wall and by the table near the front door, with a fresh bouquet of asters in a vase there too.

Alluring as it is, the only thing Doyoung couldn’t keep his eyes off the most was a sleeping you in pajamas, hunched over the coffee table on top of books and numerous paperwork. An empty coffee glass neared the edge, so he caught it before you squirmed again from your sleep.

The exhaustion from your life was constantly piled up one after the other. You’ve been studying hard at law school, balancing it with a part-time job as a teacher’s assistant at your university for undergrads and being a mom to Areum. Even seeing the pile of bills right by your side, you didn’t just need the help of your families. You needed him, as a friend, lover, and father.

Men were still viewed as the main breadwinners of the family, but you juggled both positions as mother and father. It was a vicious fate, and he’d do anything to share that challenge with you. For now, the only thing he could do is bring you to bed at least.

Taking you into his arms bridal style, completely knocked out, he only assumed the remaining door in front of Areum’s bedroom was your bedroom. Carefully kicking it, he graced your bed and laid you down elegantly so your sleeping flow won’t be disturbed. He put the covers on top of your body so you’d feel comfier.

Right in front of your bedside was a breezy open window, the moonlight creeping in to highlight your sleeping face. The wrinkles on your forehead started to show, a side effect of immense stress. It’s a trait no one wants, yet it symbolized aging and moving forward to the future. Doyoung envied you for it.

Besides that, you looked youthful as ever, seeking internal peace from the outside world in your deep slumber. His index traced the outline of your face, appreciating your glow. Trapped in amazement, leaving you will be more difficult. It’s been a while since he saw you up close in the flesh, but Manwol’s words daunted his mind. Just like his daughter, his lips softly pecked your forehead and to your ear, he said in a hushed tone, “Good night, my love. I’m so proud of you.”

Getting back on his knees to exit, he’s convinced that you and your daughter can detect a leaving presence and catch it before they do. On cue, your hand unconsciously grabbed his wrist. Your mind couldn’t make up what mental state you were in, but something in you vibed a known presence. One that you’ve yearned, one that you struggle to wait and see until your birthday arrives. Is he actually here?

Doyoung reacted immediately, his feet shuffling to face you again. Eyes still shut close, but your lips released a satisfied moan as you stretched your arms slightly.

“Is it my birthday already?” You mumbled incoherently, gripping on the unknown wrist. “Or am I just lucky enough to get a free pass?”

He rolled his eyes at your nonsense. “If this was a free pass, what would you want me to do?”

You weakly took a peek. It was blurry, probably caused by your sleepiness. But you recognized the silhouette of this stranger from the back of your hand. You clutched his grip, bringing his face closer to yours. Doyoung didn’t expect such a jerking action, almost falling limp if his other free hand didn’t grip on your duvet.

“Kiss me before you go again, my love.” You requested, mindlessly craving his touch.

Loosening from your grip, his palm cupped your cheek as he wets his lips. He made the first move, sweetly and slowly. Even at your unknown state, you returned with the same level of passion, brushing the hair behind the nape of his neck to deepen it. You haven’t kissed anyone like this in a very long time, too busy with your studies and motherhood. This refreshed your memories of what you missed, a warm tear escaping your eye.

No one will ever match up to him.

Doyoung’s deprivation of physical touch for you amplified, eagerness for so much more than this. Touching himself to the thought of you grew tiring, wanting to have you in the flesh by his side. It wasn’t until a bright car light from outside shun by your window. Yuta was an impatient one, but he had every right to be.

It was fulfilling while it lasted. His heart throbbed when his lips parted from yours, opening his eyes again. Your eyes stayed closed, but your lips hummed in satisfaction.

“Nothing changed in the way you kiss, my love.” You complimented, succumbing back to your deep slumber by pulling yourself further inside the duvet.

Doyoung grinned at your words, kissing your knuckle one last time. “I meant what I said, (Y/N). Sleep well.”

He tiptoed out your bedroom, deciding to exit through the front door. Again, no one would be awake at this time anyway. However, an antique-looking photo of him caught his eye. Taking a closer look, it was you and him by his garden, clutching on his arm under their family lemon tree and smiling during pre-war times. It was a funny story actually.

His father bought a camera for the first time and wanted to test it out. You were over at their house that day to study, and his father insisted to take a photo of the two of you as a first try.

“Oh come on, we must commemorate this new contraption! The first people can be titled “Young Love” or something like that!”

Doyoung cringed, whining, “Dad, that’s so corny!”

“I don’t care. Now hurry, join the frame with (Y/N) and smile!”

His father may present himself as strict and stubborn as one of the most affluent men in Korean society even after the war, but behind the scenes, he knows how to entertain his children. Doyoung’s childhood never had a dull moment. Oh, how wished he could follow the same fate as him.

This happy photo was a golden treasure to you, framing it so it could be preserved. It was one of your last traces of him, aside from Areum. Next to it, a much smaller photo of you and Areum was placed. Also all smiles for the two of you, Areum firmly sat on your lap and clasping her hands above her dress. You cut your hair during that time, showing the dog tag necklace that once belonged to him on your neck. You were really devoted to him, and he’s grateful, to say the least.

He knew he shouldn’t take anything either before going back to the hotel, but there was just no way he can’t take this one photo of his favorite girls with him. He already kept his photo strip of him and Areum from the carnival in his back pocket, so he’ll just have to work out the consequences then.

Returning to the car was bittersweet. He took one more proper look at your home, taking in all the positive energy to have such a loving family even if he can only watch from afar. While Yuta revved the car on, Doyoung deeply sighed from the backseat. What a spontaneous evening.

“I’m guessing you didn’t resist seeing your lover either, Doyoung?” Yuta commented, viewing him from the mirror. Raising his brows playfully, “Got caught in the VIP seat of you two lip-locking.”

“First of all, that’s creepy, Yuta. Second, you most definitely know what it feels like to be separated from your lover. Cut me some slack.”

“Whatever, that’s not my business anyway. But good luck to you if Manwol asked why there was a sudden extension.” The older friend shrugged, his foot pressing on the pedal to drive off the area.

“Keyword is if she asks. Now please, drive faster, Yuta. I have a shift to fill in now.”

Last night was a gift, but also an aching reminder of what could’ve been if he never died. The sun is slowly making its appearance again, bringing in another morning in this reality. Another work day for Doyoung, more waiting to be done.

Yet recalling his bonding moments with Areum, he’ll most likely get through another few decades. He yanked out his photo strip from the back pocket of his trousers, gazing at their authentic happiness. He muttered to himself,

“I’ll see you and your mother again, and we’ll all celebrate and rejoice. ‘Til then, my sweetheart.”

Meanwhile, ever since that peculiar “dream” with Doyoung, it left you with a lot of questions. Perhaps, it’s all just in your head. Though it doesn’t quite answer how one of your beloved pictures went missing. That’s definitely something you’re going to ask if your birthday comes up again.

Moving forward, his kind words pushed you to do your best. In the next years, you first became a family lawyer for a few years to get used to the field, but permanently shifted to being a public attorney because you wanted to be able to represent those who are suffering the most yet can’t afford the legal help to avoid it.

Just like what you and Doyoung aspired.

Balancing that with a kid was overwhelming, but with your and Doyoung’s families helping you out, your stress lessened.

You served as a huge inspiration to female college students wanting to pursue law. Since law is still perceived as a male-dominated field, you constantly pushed to make space for women in that workforce. It was also rare of you to lose a case because of the hard work you put into disproving every loophole and suggesting the correct punishments for the wrongdoers.

“You really outdid yourself once again, (Y/N). Or should I say Attorney (Y/L/N) (Y/N).”

“Shut up, Doyoung. Tell me more about your hotel staff friends. That Johnny guy seems very fun, and Jeno seems like a lovely boy.”

“Johnny’s a playful lad, always the life of the party. Jeno is like the younger brother I really wish I had. Donghyun-hyung is okay and all, but he’s so high maintenance.”

“Shush! He’s doing fantastic right now. He pursued acting like he always wanted.”

“He deserves it because he’s hard-working, like yourself, Attorney.”

You’ve never fallen in love the same way you did for Doyoung. Though you won’t lie that you’ve slept with a few men during nights out with your co-workers, committing to another man was something you had no time for. You always envisioned Doyoung as the one fucking you senseless.

People viewed it as stupid to be still lovestruck over your dead lover, but you’ve been called worst insults in your life that it doesn’t sting that much anymore. At the end of the day, your heart still soared and longed for Doyoung.

You just can never let him go.

“It’s still unfair to you, Doyoung. I should be ashamed.” The two of you were at a drive-in theater, watching from the trunk of his pickup truck. Your back laid against his chest as his fingers roam your torso in an upwards motion.

“No, you shouldn’t, (Y/N). It’s natural to desire human affection. I’m the one who should be sorry for not giving it to you.”He replied, completely ignoring the film.

You scoffed jokingly. “It’s silly how we’re so deprived of sex, especially with each other.”

“Oh, (Y/N). Don’t get me started, I’m suffering here with my hand alone while you can just find any available man.”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” You surrendered, directing your head from the front to the back. “At the end of the day, it’s still your touch that still gets me weak.”

“My dear, on the day we reunite, brace yourself. I’ll show you who you really belong to.”

1973

Doyoung’s been on duty with reading books to children lately, and again, he’s aching to see what Areum’s up to. Rereading past letters from her from his birthday celebrations were driving him wild. After helping one young girl look for more books under the Madeline series, he had to make an exception. Just this once, and that would be it.

Even if he was under disguise, he desperately wanted to have just another brief conversation with her, especially that she’s a lot older compared to their last encounter. Doyoung witnessed her bloom from this imaginative young girl to a strong woman chasing after her dreams.

Like mother, like daughter.

He spotted her at a small bookstore to buy books for her classes and newly arrived ones from the States, very much interested in western literature. But upon seeing the peaked prices which were more than what she saved for, she put the book back on the shelf and gathered the ones she actually needed.

This was where Doyoung took it upon himself to offer his help. Staying long enough in the middle of the living and the dead, he was capable to turn visible.

“Stephen King, huh?” He inquired, scooting to her side and pulling out the book again to take a better look at it. He came across this book in his library, even if it was in English. “I see that you’re into horror. These books are in English though.”

Areum knew speaking to strangers is not a good thing, but if anyone reached out to her to talk about books, she can’t help but feel excited. “I’m interested in a lot of genres, and this book is pretty popular right now so I wanted to check it out. Besides, I’m reading more English books so I can become fluent one day.”

“You aren’t scared of the storylines?”

“I went through a life of hardships, sir. Nothing scares me anymore honestly.” Doyoung couldn’t help feel proud and sorry for her. Without questions, he led her to the counter and paid for all books despite her insisting not to.

“Sir, you really shouldn’t have. I can always come back for those books when I save up more.”

“It’s fine, really. With your taste in literature, you have a promising future as an author if that’s what you’re aiming for.” He complimented. Areum was frazzled at how spot on this stranger was, trying to convince him again.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t pay you back?”

“Pay me back by publishing your books.” He confidently stated, bringing out his wallet to pay the cashier. His astonishing kindness and encouragement for her are heartwarming, bowing with gratitude.

“Thank you,” She halted because she didn’t know his name.

There was no way Doyoung can disclose his actual name, so he just picked a random nickname some of the kids in the hotel who he read to coined for him. “I prefer giving people my nickname. It’s tokki.”

“Thank you, tokki. I’m Areum, Kim Areum.” She thanked him properly, struggling from carrying her things to shake his hand, but Doyoung signaled her not to.

“Nice to meet you, Areum.” He greeted back.

As Areum was more ready to part ways, Doyoung’s fatherly instincts activated due to the heavy box she held. Her dorms must be a bit far and it was already nighttime. Anything can happen.

“Excuse me, Areum. But do you mind if I help you with your books? It’s pretty late, so I just want to make you get back safe.”

Something in Areum was very willing to trust this man she just met. Sure, he was quite covered up, but it’s almost winter and maybe he didn’t want to catch a cold. Though, his intentions looked good. She’s heard stories about people getting robbed in these alleys, so she accepted his help.

Her dorms were a few blocks away, giving enough time to be acquainted with this man. Though he was the one mostly asking the questions and she answered them. She didn’t pry on it too much and went with the flow.

“Are you an only child in your family?”

“Yes. It’s also just me and my mom. I never got to meet my dad sadly. He died before I was born while battling in the Korean war.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” No matter how long it’s been since the war, the trauma of it all still haunted Doyoung.

“It’s been years so it’s fine. I found out recently that he risked his life to save his senior officer during a surprise attack from one of my uncles. If that isn’t bravery, I don’t know what is.”

“So you’re not mad at him for leaving?” He asked, hoping he didn’t cross boundaries either. He needed this closure.

“It was hard to accept at first. All my friends grew up with their actual fathers, and I felt outcasted. But there are just some things we can’t control, you know? Besides, people always spoke of him highly and that makes me proud. Though,” She answered honestly, covering up the bitterness in her words in other not to disrespect him. “I’m pretty sure I saw him in a dream when I was younger.”

Doyoung’s heart leaped. So she may recall quite a bit. “Oh really? What was it like?”

“The only person I told this to is my mom. It felt quite unreal, honestly. I was around 7-8 years old at that time, and we were at a carnival, enjoying the attractions and stuff. Then we transitioned to this huge library where he read me a bunch of stories. One of them was Madeline, I believe. One of my favorites!”

Doyoung replays the fond memory in his mind. Time really flew by so fast.

“What a fun dream, it seems to be.”

Areum was elated at the best memory of her youth, smiling to herself. “It truly was. It felt like I was with him, you know. No matter how many times he told me he loved me there, I still respond the same way and that nothing has changed.”

“I love you too, Areum.” He mumbled quietly. That dream should not have been the only memory they have of each other. Neither of them deserved to be parted.

Soon enough, they arrived at the front doors of her dorm residence. Since it was strictly for women, she explained that she’ll carry the box from here on.

“Thanks again for the help, tokki. I’ll make sure to pay you back soon.” She spoke so casually because, for some reason, this mysterious man felt trustworthy. Her gut feeling may fool her, but she let it pass.

“Take your time, Areum. I wish you the best of luck.”

Before they went separate ways, something about her bitter words from awhile ago bothered Doyoung and he wanted to say something about it. Because looking into the far future, if he didn’t, he knew he’ll regret it and make moving on harder.

“Wait, Areum!”

Areum abruptly reacted to the shouts of her name, almost dropping the box. She faced again the mysterious tokki, who now had an awkward stance with his hand in the air waving at you.

“Yes, tokki?”

Compiling his thoughts, here goes nothing.

“This is quite random but your dad... I just know he loves you too. He’s also proud of you for being strong and intelligent. I hope you don’t forget that.”

Areum was baffled by his statement, but it was uplifting to hear that. Maybe this tokki guy was going through the same thing as her, so she didn’t want to judge too quickly. She was taught to never judge a book by its cover from you. By the quick blinking of her eyes, some tears dropped down to her cheek. She let out some sniffles on her way up to her dorm room, reassured that this stranger may just be correct. She heard what she needed to hear.

It’s been a long time since he reunited with his daughter, even if she’s fooled into thinking that the dream was just a dream. His status as a father was renewed. Even if he got a major scolding from Manwol upon his return at the hotel for ditching his shift.

“She blamed you in public? Oh no, my love.” You consoled your lover after he told you the tale.

A lot of iconic songs were released during this decade, so this dream accommodated it. It was set in a jazz bar, where all sorts of alcohol on display with assorted vinyl CDs by the platform at the end. Dimly lit with numerous empty tables and chairs, and it was only the two of you. Dressed to the nines for the occasion, your flimsy hands couldn’t stop playing with your hoop earrings. A definite staple while you swayed your hips to the beat of Superstition by Stevie Wonder.

Doyoung sat in one of the bar stools in a red v-neck top and flare pants, marveling at your physique and movements in that indigo romper. You could feel his fiery stare, your body flowing through the groove to capture him into your spell. The dream version of him always gets easily distracted when you act suggestive, especially when he isn’t in control physically. Only his words can he sort out.

Dancing towards him, you dragged his arms away from his seated position to lead him to the empty dance floor.

“Let’s dance off the stress, shall we?”

Pulling off the famous dance moves and grooving in freestyle, it was a blast. Both your young energies were in sync. From the funky beat, it shuffled into a slower yet soulful song. The unwinding mood could only mean that this dream was reaching its end. You took Doyoung’s arms again, placing one on your waist and the other interlocked with you. Taking the lead, you waltzed back and forth, twirling yourself in his arms.

Doyoung cracked a smile from the phone and in the dream, immersing himself in the lovely song. It was always played on the radio during the late-night shows, dedicated for the couples out there. With you, he could finally understand why couples request it every night.

“You are the sunshine of my life,” He sang along while feeling your heartbeat against his chest. “That's why I'll always stay around.”

“You are the apple of my eye,” You carried from where he left off, equally resonating with the lyrics. No matter how many times you’ve said or expressed your patience for each other, this song held a special place. It summed up everything you’re both fighting for.

“Forever, you'll stay in my heart.”

1980s

It came to Doyoung’s attention that there’s a new member of the hotel staff, and Manwol put him in charge of touring this new addition around and orienting them about the hotel rules. Considering he wasn’t busy, he went for it.

This person would be the replacement of Johnny, who finally passed through the afterlife in high spirits after his younger brother Mark took his rightful place as the heir of their family business. Originally, it was him, but his stepmother and stepbrother stabbed him alongside his father to get ahold of the power. Without proof, they led the business as she freely did, overworking Mark numerously and spending their money to their heart’s desire.

Doyoung couldn’t let this pass. Since Manwol hired a human manager back in the ‘70s named Kun to better facilitate human-related affairs for the hotel (taxes, bills, etc), he requested him to talk to Mark then introduce him to you.

Kun also made sure to inform you that this was Doyoung’s idea.

“This Johnny is the same Johnny that Doyoung talks about in my dreams? The one who brings the fun out of him every once and while?”

“That’s right, Ms. (Y/L/N). Due to the betrayal, he can’t move on until his stepbrother is taken down.”

The fact that Kun was a bridge to the two of you felt miraculous. Now and then, Doyoung tasked Kun to buy you flowers or coffee whenever they meet. Sometimes, he’ll ask him to send his letters to you too. In return, you replied to those letters, attaching pictures of you and Areum over time. He hung it up in his office, taking a look before every shift.

Kun didn’t mind being in the middle. While Doyoung gave her cases to work on, it makes it easier for him to wait for her. Doyoung was a guest first before being a member of staff, and as the human manager, he’ll make sure that he gets to move on too.

Even if you don’t accept cases from big companies, the touching way how Mark described his passed older brother persuaded her otherwise. He even opened up about watching his father and older brother get killed right in front of him. From there, he was held hostage for years and never told anyone about that night.

It was undoubtedly the biggest case in your career. Up until this day, everyone still talks about how complex and intense the battle was.

“Always finding a way to make justice prevail, Kim Doyoung.” You thought to yourself after gathering more evidence from Mark and Kun, working closely also with forensics and the police.

And that you did. With additional information on Johnny’s side, which helped find the empty puzzle pieces to prove his stepfamily’s guilt, they won the case. Life imprisonment and forced transferring of roles, Mark became the CEO. All those involved in hiding the truth got caught and fired from their positions.

You deserved your influential status, and due to your never-ending service, Doyoung found himself falling in love with you over and over again. Even from far away, you felt his connection and passion.

Currently, you were dealing with five cases, one of them being another request for Kun and Doyoung. It was for the murder of Yuta Nakamoto in the late 40s.

Being a migrant from Japan, numerous Koreans held grudges for their people. He was mistreated and disrespected, even if he had the most caring soul. He even found love, ready to get wed. But one normal evening after his job as a Japanese teacher, he was mobbed by Koreans and heartlessly killed. At first, he wanted vengeance. But after Manwol telling stories of souls burning into ashes when they get revenge, he changed his objective to watch the demise of all his killers, who became very influential people in Korean society.

Representing with you was his former lover, Sooyoung. No matter how many times she tried to appeal to the court in the past, no one paid attention because she was a woman and interracial relationships were taboo. Even if Yuta held a special place in her heart, she eventually got married to another man. In the beginning, she felt guilty, but after Yuta told her in a dream call that she shouldn’t be afraid to open herself up again, she never held back. And as a fellow woman who’s been ostracized, you sided with her.

She may not have her happy ending with Yuta, but it only felt right to avenge his wrongful death.

It’s a tough battle, these murderous men not owning up to their crime, and the public also discriminating the dead man by saying he deserved it. But you knew you could do it, even if it’ll take a while.

Back to the newbie, he was in his early twenties. He went by the name, Jaehyun. Just about to start his life, yet taken away just like that. Aside from being the next bartender, he has another position as the vinyl boy in the music section of the library. It came to Manwol’s attention that he wanted to pursue music when he was alive, listening to vinyl CDs or cassette players and taking singing and piano lessons growing up. While he figured out what he wants to do while moving on, he’d be in charge of organizing and playing music for the souls checked in. Sing even if requested, especially by the women who are charmed by his attractive looks.

He was a literal old soul, jazz being his favorite genre. Most of the time, he played Chet Baker or Frank Sinatra when it’s his shift at the bar. He was known for always showing his best and happy-go-lucky sides to everyone.

It took him a few years to start opening about his life, longer than most souls. But maybe because the trauma of it all stung. One night, when he, Doyoung, and Kun weren’t working, he mixed a few cocktails and completely fell off the radar.

“I was a part of a duo with one of my best friends, Hongseok. It was really fun to perform and make music with him, but then he suddenly got into drugs and had a ton load of groupies. I-I just couldn’t do it anymore with him if he wasn’t going to stop. Once I cut off ties with him, I was signed by a class A producer who loved my compositions. He even got me all sorts of opportunities to perform on TV, and I was so excited for it. But one week until I made my official debut, Hongseok reached out again with apologies, wanting to meet up so we can fix ties. I was hesitant, but I still give him the benefit of the doubt because we go way back….” He confessed, puffing out smoke from his cigarette and putting it down on the ashtray. Before he continued his story, he scoffed with profanities.

“That bitch. I fucking trusted him! I was too good to give him another shot. So after practice, he sent me an address to his apartment or so I thought. We were having drinks, just like old times. But something felt off feel when my mind started feeling hazy and I started coughing continuously because my stomach ached like crazy. He asked me if I was fine, and I told him I was. Then suddenly, baam!” He crashed his hands on the table, shocking the hell out of his two companions.

“Holy fuck, Jaehyun.” Kun cursed under his breath. Doyoung nudged him the shoulder to mind his language.

“The deities are watching you, Kun. Let Jaehyun-ie continue.”

So he did. “There I was, standing beside my dead body while Hongseok rummaged with surgical gloves through my bag to steal my notebook of songs. He planted cocaine on the table where I conversed with him, and also in front of my face. Beside my glass, he laid the vial of poison he used and called the cops. With fake tears, he cried on the phone saying that he came home to my dead body and a suicide note.”

Stillness between the three of them was filled with betrayal and disappointment. For a so-called friend, this must be the worst thing you can do to them. To lessen his suffering, Jaehyun brought back his actively lit cigarette and smoked it until all the tobacco was gone. Exhaling a dark grey smoke, he spat out.

“I-I couldn’t believe it, hyungs. I lost everything after making the wrong decision of seeing him. And now, he signed under that label that found me to “give honor to my talent”. How tragic that I suddenly took my life he’d say, oh bullshit! You took away my life because you were jealous!”

Kun decided to call it a night, requesting Yukhei who’s on duty to take Jaehyun’s upcoming shifts so he could calm down. Escorting his intoxicated figure out so the other guests won’t feel bothered, Doyoung contemplated if he wanted to forward another case to you. You’ve been getting so much workload lately, according to Kun, because your success rate is high and highly in demand.

“What happened to Jaehyun?” Manwol showed up from behind, sitting across him. “Did he finally tell his story?”

Doyoung mildly groaned, devastated by it. “He did, and it breaks my heart. He’s still so young, like me.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Manwol stirred the spare cocktail, ingesting it in one go. “Is it another case worth forwarding to (Y/N)?”

“If it helps Jaehyun move on, possibly. I know it’s hard to find staff these days, Manwol. Also, she’s stacked already. I don’t know if she’ll take it.”

She snickered, patting his shoulder. “You know if it’s from you, it becomes her priority. She loves you that much, you know.”

“I know, but I wish I could help her. In person. I would’ve been a lawyer and taken Jaehyun’s case if I were alive. Murder in the first degree, false reporting to the police, stealing, his persecutor is insane and still walking free.”

The fire of passion in Doyoung wasn’t new to Manwol, nodding as he spoke. He was capable of a lot of things, but the world just wasn’t ready to see it. She was more concerned at how the deities will react when he engages in human affairs again. Even if it helps a lot of ghosts move on, it’s highly discouraged to interfere with the living world. It’ll ruin the entire flow of the world.

Doyoung already knew what he got himself into, but it’s one of the few ways he still feels relevant. Always in service for anyone who needs it, dead or alive. If the deities take him away, it’s no joke that it’ll be a riot in the entire hotel.

“In that case,” Manwol’s piercing eyes scanned right at him, filling up his glass with vodka. Second to Doyoung, she grew a fond liking to Jaehyun. She never knew how much he’s been hiding during his stay. “Forward it no matter what. End his murderer’s career at all costs.”

Doyoung smirked, lifting his glass high to clink with hers then chugging it one go.

“I’ll investigate first with Kun to know more about Jaehyun’s life, then we’ll look for someone who wants to testify for Jaehyun to meet with (Y/N).”

Amid the craze and problems in the hotel, at least Doyoung was at ease with how successful his family. Areum became a well-known author for fairytales, got married, and had 3 kids of her own. She most definitely didn’t live down to Doyoung’s promise.

“Is he a nice guy?” Doyoung inspected the man who married his only daughter. It felt like yesterday they played around in the carnival room.

“He is, Doyoung. Intelligent and caring, nothing to worry about.” You calmed his shaking leg, resting your head on his shoulder while you watch the fireflies from the campfire set prepared by the deities.

“I’m just looking out for her, you know.”

“She most definitely does know, even telling stories about us to her kids. Our grandchildren.”

“It’s hard to believe that we’re technically old when we’re always young in these dreams.”

“Maybe it’s just you being used to your youth. Meanwhile, aging is beating my ass every day.” You joked, covering yourself up in the blanket you shared. Doyoung’s bottom lip jutted out, huffing at your mean comments.

“Yah, you take that back.”

“Make me.” You fired back, riling him up.

Doyoung in the dream attacked you by tickling your sides mercilessly. Your body uncontrollably arched back and forth, falling back to the blanket you sat at. He took the advantage to pin you down, gripping on your arms to the side. With his face near yours, you closed the gap with a cheeky kiss. His touch softened, allowing you to pull him lower by his collar. Your lips molded together in every movement, feeling his tongue lick your lower lip for entrance. You freely gave in, moaning filthily.

“Didn’t even have to test me like that, my love.”

How you wished this was longer, if it weren’t for the fast fading out, and morning has arrived again. A short-lived euphoria, yet it left your panties drenched under the covers. The arousal still ran in your veins.

“Kim Doyoung, you tease.”

Back to your real life, aside from bravely taking on controversial cases, there was a thrill in every case you did and it showed by your fast-paced talking and hand gestures. Whether you won or lost, mostly the former, knowing that you helped someone made your life more meaningful.

He often forgot how you’re a grandmother during your dream calls already as time flows differently within the living and the dead. They were the only way you can be youthful and energetic. But with your actual body, it began to weaken.

Early 1990s

Nature decided to take heavier measures on you physically. On one of the monthly visits to the doctor, she noticed something off with the checkup and tests. Especially in the chest area.

“Ms. (Y/L/N) (Y/N), I’m afraid that you have a growing lump in your breast.”

“Are you saying what I’m thinking?”

“If breast cancer is one of those though, then unfortunately yes.”

Areum was by your side that day, tearing up at her announcement. You, on the other hand, remained still and nodding at the truth. You’ve fought for a lot of things in your life, and you were so determined to beat this one.

Chemotherapy, medications, and scans are tiring and draining, but you managed to live for 2 more years. You’ve fully retired, and now and then, mentor the juniors with their cases. You’ve traveled to as many places as you can before the stages of cancer rose.

In your last months of life, you were bedridden in the most expensive hospital in Seoul, getting visits from Areum with her family, Jungwoo and Taeyong. As the latter served as definite friends to Doyoung, it was only natural to befriend them when they came into your life post-war. They supported Areum in any way they can too. They’ve become a great company in your boring life especially in the hospital. Nowadays, Jungwoo loved sharing stories about his hyper grandchildren, who share similar traits to him, while Taeyong excitedly talked about his recent investment with a promising music company with the dream to debut talented individuals and go international in the long run.

“Mr. Lee Soo Man is dedicated to it! He hopes that next year, all his plans can start and be executed.”

“You’re always investing in start-ups, you know? You think this one will be bigger than the rest?”

“Music is universal, you know. Language barriers may be there, but music brings us together.”

Taeyong was always a delight to catch up with. However, you didn’t expect that conversation would be your last with him. A few days later, he suffered a sudden heart attack and passed. This was a sign that your time was coming. Your body falling more and more feeble every day as the disease fully took you over at night, the monitors always going on a high every so often.

It’s only a matter of time before you leave this life, and looking back, you’ve lived a tough yet productive life. Your daughter was happy and thriving in her career and family. You helped families and couples from their abusive households. You defended those with loved ones who were murdered, robbed, and lied to. You ticked off all you wanted to do beforehand.

Areum made sure to visit that night specifically as soon as she could. With your recent test results have been failing, her gut feeling kept insisting.

It’s a good thing she did.

Meanwhile, it was another day of work for Doyoung, just returning a bunch of books in their respective shelves after some teenagers left on the table. Before that, he bid Taeyong goodbye in the tunnel. It’s always nice to see a familiar face, so he couldn’t miss out on it. He shared any life stories he had with you, updating him about your state. Doyoung knew about it beforehand, and as selfish enough to look forward to it, it pained him to know you’re suffering. He only hoped you could fight through it.

“Doyoung-hyung!” Someone suddenly shouted, but he was shushed by an old lady reading her romance novel, who pointed at the sign that read “Keep quiet in the library”.

Doyoung was also annoyed, instantly nagging on the point person. “Kun! Can you read the sign? Jeez, this isn’t the first time so please-”

“(Y/N) is going off the monitor.” He blurted out. The news from one of the nurses he befriended buzzed through his phone. After finding out about his story, he wanted to help Doyoung especially when he was still alive. Doyoung may a part of the staff, but he’s still a guest. He dropped everything in his hands. Before he could race to the hospital, he changed into a specific outfit for this occasion.

This was it.

Areum was the only one by your side of your hospital bed, weeping due to your weak state. You didn’t want your other family members to witness this crucial moment. It stung that you’ll miss out on the futures of your grandchildren, but you were satisfied to just be a part of their lives. All this machinery trying to sustain your life served its purpose, but the illness you’re fighting was stronger.

“Mom....” Areum sniffled in her handkerchief, holding on to your boney hand. “I’m not ready for you to go.”

“Oh, Areum.” Your thumb caressed her soft palm as reassurance. “You grew up so well. An independent woman you are, you are so loved.”

“Mom, please....” She begged. “I can’t lose you too.”

You will never know how Areum held in her sorrow of not being able to grow up with her father. She hated the feeling of being fully abandoned. She wanted things and people to return to her, but she can’t make that choice. Being by her side all her life, losing you will be the hardest struggle she’ll have to face.

“Areum, you must understand...” You paused as a pang of pain in your chest stabs you. After a minute of enduring it, you continued. “...We are put on this world for a specific time. And if we’re called to leave, we must face it.”

She whimpered whilst holding on to your hand. She really thought you can get through this one like the rest, but your hair has gone, your body lost much weight, and your eyes lost their light.

“Mom, are you happy? You’ve fought through so much to get where you are. I can never do what you did.”

“Y-Yes, I am.” You stuttered, gracing a promising smile. “I had you, our families, and your father watching over me..”

The dreams you get on your birthday were fairytale-like stories that pushed Areum to become an author. She denied how unrealistic and supernatural they were at first. Another trait of Doyoung she got. However, when she noticed how wider your smiles are and energetic you get in the mornings after rather the feeling of distraught, she reckoned to believe they were something special. Despite knowing your love story and its downfall, she felt exhilarated at the things you and her dad did there. In a way, it brings him closer to her. But she still had that void.

“I envy you for that, mom. I wish I met him or at least came to me even if I least expected it!”

Oh, little did she know about that time in the bookstore back in the 70s. It was not coincidental; you and Doyoung planned it very well. You just played along to her complaint, alerted that this wasn’t your story to tell at this time. “Forgive your father just this once, okay? He never wanted this kind of fate for any of us. If one thing stayed constant in those dreams, it’s him always asking how you are doing.”

Her tears become uncontrollable, allowing herself to get puffy eyes and let it all out. “When you see him, please tell him I’m sorry and that I love him no matter.” “Oh, Areum. He knows that, so don’t worry about it.”

The clock was ticking for Areum before she’ll be asked to leave. With you bringing up her father again, she had one last question. Her courage to ask it was so little when she was young in fear you sulk and break down. It hurt her when the bad parts of your past tormented you.

“How much do you miss him?” The question put you in a point of self-reflection. The only person you’ve opened up to talk about him in detail was Areum. Even with your friendships with Taeyong and Jungwoo, there were some things you never disclosed with them. And never did they force you to answer because they can read you on the back of their heads: you’re still heartbroken, yet remained devoted to him.

“I miss him so much that even if this became my fate for accepting his notebook back in our university days, I would foolishly do it all over again. In those times he was no longer with us, it taught me to appreciate what and who we have in our lives because tomorrow is never guaranteed. From his impact, I learned to take care of myself again so I can take better care of you. I’m grateful you were born; he left a piece of him for me.”

“You’ve suffered so much, mom. I hope you can rest peacefully.”

“Thank you for never leaving my side, Areum.” A few tears escaped your eyes, infectious to your daughter’s gloom. “I love you.”

Meanwhile, Doyoung was right outside viewing you and Areum sharing your last conversation and goodbyes. As much as he looked forward to reuniting with you, he didn’t want to leave his only daughter alone. The deities should have shown her more mercy. Still invisible, he observed how Areum trembled when she heavily closed the door of your hospital room. Covering her sobs with her handkerchief, she took one last look through the small glass of the door. You dove into a deep sleep that would then be unawakened.

“I hope your next life is happier than this, mom, and you can cross paths again with dad and grow old with him too.”

Doyoung’s urge to show himself to his daughter to console her was overpowering him, but he restrained himself this time. A few hours later, your consciousness was faltering. Your five senses were losing touch one by one. Important memories of your long life played in your mind. Then your heart gave in and stopped beating. The doctors present there have pronounced you dead. The transition from your body to your soul watching it be covered by a blanket by the nurses was swift yet strange. You didn’t know where to go and what’s next. No book prepared you for this nor can you ask the doctors what to do. Standing there lost with so many questions, it only took someone’s enthusiastic calling for your name to soothe you down.

“(Y/N)!”

It hit you instantaneously that when your day comes, Doyoung would call for your name. Your old age and past illness really affected your memories. He was an honest man and kept to his word this time.

And there he was, just along the hallway.

This was no longer a dream.

This novel kind of exhilaration got you moving your feet, still sore and slow because you were still an old lady.

“Doyoung!”

You shouted back, over and over again before your boney hands slid open the door. At the same time, your old figure drastically and permanently transformed you back to your active twenties. Nothing physically hurt anymore and your energy was on an all-time high. Your room was the last on the floor, a dead end. The left side of the hallway was just a closed window pane.

When you stepped outside and turned to your right, there he properly stood. He wore the same suit and suspenders combination on the day he approached you on your bike. The actual soul of Kim Doyoung who was no longer behind the phone. No matter how many times he’s seen you from afar, it makes him lose his breath from the captivation. For once, he can see you without barriers.

You just realized how you were dressed back into the floral dress on the day you had your first proper conversation. It’s like you’re meeting each other again for the first time. The beeping sounds of the monitors, wheelchairs moving, and chitter-chatter exchanged by doctors went mute. Stunned, you couldn’t stop looking eye to eye at him, cherishing this special moment.

It finally processed to Doyoung that his patience and efforts paid off. In this journey of acceptance, while enduring its trials, it added up to this sweet result to be reunited with you. The adrenaline rush took control of your limbs, legs running to him on the other side.

As his arms widened for a hug, he spun and picked you around in the air. His arms firmly wrap around your waist while your head snuggled on top of his shoulder. You felt safe, warm, and alleviated. Once he put you back down, the overwhelming joy wasn’t keen to pull away from your lover. Doyoung’s lips somehow got closer to yours, your heart skipping beats and his familiar scent intoxicating your thoughts.

With Doyoung still having you wrapped in his arms, he took his awaited chance to close into your parted lips. The fluttering in your stomach was on overdrive, your entire body reacting immediately from his passion. One hand curled into a fist on the hem of his buttoned top while the other rubbed the back of his head. Your legs almost gave in, but with Doyoung’s strength, he held you tight. No previous kiss felt like this. You didn’t have to worry about getting caught by adults for such a provocative display of affection. Your roommate wasn’t going to splash water if she catches you getting frisky on campus. As for Doyoung, he didn’t have to get paranoid about what his classmates would say about their relationship. You were both in your own world for a while.

But wanting to catch a breather from his thrilling dominance, your lips hesitantly moved away first. You took your time to get lost in admiring his features. Wet, swollen lips, flushed cheeks, his dazed eyes, he was irresistible, to say the least.

This was how an almost 50-year build-up would end up to.

“My love, it’s really you,” You finally spoke, caressing your thumb on his flushed cheek. “You’ve been through so much.”

As lovestruck as he is, his pent-up tears streamed down instantly. Except they were tears of joy. All those years he held back.

“I’ve missed you so much, (Y/N). I’m just happy you’re finally here with me.”

He wasn’t joking when he said that the main lobby alone was exquisite after walking through the city. Aside from Kun, that’s where he introduced you to other staff he worked with, such as Jeno, Jaehyun, and the boss herself, Manwol.

“This boy stayed very loyal, you know?” She commended Doyoung. It was a rare thing with her cold-hearted and aggressive personality. “He read to a lot of kids, taught some of them too, and recommended great books for the souls to read. He listened to a lot of souls who wanted justice then forwarded them to you so they can cross the other side.”

An honor to hear from the owner herself, you glanced at Doyoung with so much love. Such a giver than a receiver.

Beside Manwol was someone whom you aspired to meet. Unfortunately, you never met the other boys you’ve helped, so this was a great chance to see at least one before moving on. Hearing about his case and the treachery of it, you made sure to work on it before you retired, eventually passing it on to one of your trusted juniors. So far, his side was winning and that’s all you wanted.

“Jeong Jaehyun.” You held on to his clasped hands as he bowed to you.

“Attorney (Y/L/N). I’m so grateful for what you’re doing for me.”

“Oh, just call me (Y/N). By the way, your side is winning, my dear. Your younger brother Sungchan is committed to clearing up your name, and that evil Hongseok will rot in life imprisonment for his crimes.” You updated him. Without self-restraint, his arms gather you in for a hug. Jaehyun wasn’t much for affection, but this felt like the right circumstance. In return, you hugged him back.

“Thanks to you, Johnny and Yuta are resting in peace.”

“And you are next, Jaehyun. My junior taking your case is topnotch, so you’re bound to get what you truthfully deserve.”

After sharing such a heartfelt moment, you asserted your attention to Jeno. Not going to lie, you’ve looked forward to meeting this boy the most. He was there with Doyoung from the very beginning.

“Doyoung-hyung gets giddy after he makes a call, and tells me everything that you’ve been up to.” Jeno joined in. “He gets grumpy though too, so I like pestering him around to light him up. Oh, I’ll never know what you see in him, (Y/N).”

That gave him a joking slap on the shoulder by Doyoung, signaling to cut it out.

“Hyung!” He fakely cried, hiding his face behind Jaehyun’s shoulder.

You suppressed a laugh, eventually sputtering out like an engine. Doyoung sighed, failing to redeem himself. But it’s alright. A simple peck from you on his cheek got him all flustered.

“Aish, take your romantic shenanigans when you’re in your room, not in my damn lobby.” Manwol cringed, the evident love bug getting on her nerves. “Alright, everyone. Get back to work!”

Checking in your room was an experience. Since you’ve been to numerous places through the dream calls, there was one main thing you’ve missed to do with Doyoung. As soon as he lifted you by your thighs and roughly shoved his tongue down your throat, you were in for a heated evening. This dominant side of Doyoung when it came to sex was completely fresh. After diving into more erotica over time, he learned about visual porn through Johnny and Jeno. You can say that he studied it very well.

“Almost 40 years of waiting, (Y/N).” He trapped you from above, sliding one of his hands to your bare breasts until it landed on your clothed core. Rubbing up and down your clit in a torturously slow place, he smirked at your desperate whines. Your breaths turned heavy, soaked by his actions. “Remember when I told you to brace yourself back then?”

“Shit, Doyoung...”

“Shush love, I’m in control now. So be a good girl for me, alright?” He growled in your ear, sucking on your soft spot on your neck. You obeyed that night, unbuttoning his shirt impatiently only to reveal his toned abdomen then lowering his crotch to give it a tight squeeze.

He hissed against your neck, pushing your panties to the side and sliding in your wetness.

“You are asking for it now, love.”

A steamy night it was, making up for all those lost years.

The following day, the struggle to walk was real. Jeno even pointed out your limping when you were roaming around the library Doyoung worked at. You never had a younger sibling, but he acted like one. So you punched him in the shoulder to shut up. “Jeez, you’re both so physical. Let me live!”

“Jeno, you’re dead. Don’t say nonsensical things.”

You learned how this hotel’s main purpose was to guide and fulfill the last wishes of ghosts in the living world before moving on. When Jeno asked you if you still have unfinished business, you realized that there is one thing left. Even if you completed your bucket list, that one thing is only possible through the hotel. You and Doyoung sat across Manwol, monitoring your shared dream call like she always did.

“Is this really the only thing you want to do here, (Y/N)?” Positively nodding, she gave you the signal to lift up the phone.

Areum found herself in an unfamiliar forest nearby a river during the day. Even she’s always like playing outside with nature in her childhood years, this location didn’t ring a bell. In fact, she was physically back to being that young girl with the same mature mind in this dream.

She wasn’t a vivid dreamer like yourself, forgetting them as so as she woke up. Even in that “dream” with her father, there were so many gaps. So for this one time, she can fully grasp her surroundings. This dream must have a purpose, she wondered.

While she followed the path that the dream assumed for her to take, she then clearly caught a glimpse of a younger you at the end of that path. Running around and laughing in the grass.

“Mom!” She called out, moving at a faster pace. It’s a good thing this dream brought her back her agility.

At the end of the path, it unveiled you lying down on the grass. Wearing in a dainty dress that reminded her of the 50s, there was an unfamiliar young man beside you. His head face planted on the grass because you pushed him off your body when he tried to tickle you.

It turned out that she arrived at your favorite spot with Doyoung. She’s only heard stories of things you’ve done and talked about her, but due to the war, their spot was devastated. Soon after, it turned into a small condominium building overlooking the river.

“Areum!” You squealed cheerfully to hear her much younger voice. She tackled you in a hug, and you still naturally felt it from where you sat.

“My sweet child,” You cooed in her, patting her back. “How are you?”

“It’s been difficult, but I’ll get by in time.” That was the first thing she managed to say, the grief being very much fresh. No mother wants to be separated from her child, and you weren’t exempted. But that is how life works: you come then you go. The truth tends to hurt.

It was obvious to Doyoung that you were still saddened by leaving Areum, taking this opportunity to give you space and finally interact with his daughter. No disguises nor distance. While the most important women in his life are still hugging in the dream, he pulls himself off from the grass and brushes away some leaves from his hair.

“Areum, I see you paid me back by having top-selling books for children.”

Areum peeked from your shoulder to check who the other man was by your side talking to her. Once he was clean from dirt and leaves, there was the only person he resonated with her. From pictures and stories shared by you, the actual man was with her.

Her actual father was in this dream with her.

“Dad!” She abruptly pulled away from you to approach her father for a bigger hug. You don’t blame her for that, she deserved to see her father even for a bit.

Years of having that empty void only for her biological father, she could care less at this very moment

Doyoung has never cried in a dream call with you, however, this long-awaited moment with his daughter resulted in him softly bawling while feeling her hugs from the chair. He’s proud and at peace to move on not just as your lover or a passionate university student, but as a father.

In their moment of content, only there did it make complete sense to Areum at the unusual memory during the ‘70s at the bookstore wasn’t random. It proved that he really did his best to reach out to her in any way he could.

“This whole time, you were the mysterious tokki. I just thought it was a coincidence. I’m so sorry, dad, that I didn’t notice you.” She sulks. Doyoung in the dream pats her back while lovingly rubbing the nape of her head.

“Oh, Areum. Don’t feel bad. I just wanted to see how much my little girl became independent and studious.” He replies, comforting the disheartened child. “I read all the letters you sent me during my birthday. I was touched then and touched now for this moment. I am proud of you, my daughter. And my love for you never changed.”

The affirmation in his words put Areum in a state of joy, rekindling that spark from the 70s. “I love you, dad.”

Your last mission in this world was to have a special outing with your complete family. Regret was always prevalent in the past, wanting to do this and that but never pushed through. But not in this dream. Just the three of you, happy and carefree from it all.

Unfortunately, Manwol just gave a hand signal that your time was almost up. Time flies by so quickly when you’re fully immersed in something you’re enjoying. Doyoung wasn’t capable to bear the bad news, but with you by his side, you helped him.

“Areum, it’s time for us to go.”

Areum sighed, reality seeping back into the situation. One sleep isn’t enough to make up years of loss. However, she still managed to remain positive in those circumstances. “I wish things worked out differently for our family, but who knows what our next lives will take us?”

In an instant, the two of you in the dream gave your daughter a big group hug. One she’s always yearned for. It’s moments like this where you mustn’t take anything for granted with your family.

“I’m happy you’re reunited with each other, mom and dad. Rest well.” She whispers with a smile, feeling fulfilled. She can grace the living world without wondering how things would be like with a complete set of parents anymore. This dream call successfully filled that empty void in her heart.

Once you’ve bid your final farewell and hung up the phone, you and Doyoung can say the same. A little bittersweet, but it lightened all the burdens in your hearts. The both of you can ultimately rest peacefully and move on.

The timing was perfect for Kun to inform you that the car taking you to the bridge leading to the afterlife was ready.

Jeno, Manwol, Kun, and Jaehyun didn’t want to miss out on this moment, waving farewells to you both. This lifetime may have taken you away from each other physically for a long time, but you still held on to each other. Most people gave up, though it’s not wrong either. It’s better to let go rather than holding on sometimes.

But the both of you were different, something, not even the deities didn’t expect. It’s only up to them to decide if they’ll give you another chance to be together and relive a longer life. A very rare sight indeed. To be granted or not, your story set a standard.

That a love so strong is so patient it endured all the challenges and stress.

“On to the next life, Doyoung?” You asked him, leaning against his shoulder as the car drove under the tunnel. All at the end of it was merely a white sky, where a long bridge awaited them.

“Make sure you wait for me this time.”

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theduosetter · 3 years ago

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── ✩ 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 ✩ ──

✩ Pairing: Kei Tsukishima x [Gender Neutral]!Reader

✩ Summary: It became a ticking time bomb. Both of you saw it coming so why did it hurt so much?

✩ Warning(s): angst, yelling, cold tsukishima

✩ Links: [m.list]

☆ 𝐚|𝐧: 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!

"I just got here and you're already pestering me..." He mumbled feeling drained from hearing you.

"Can you blame me?! You never come back early anymore."

Tsukishima sighed taking off his backpack and letting it fall onto the ground. "I told you I've been busy."

You followed him as he walked to the kitchen, crossing your arms in front of your chest."That's been your excuse every day... it's like you're avoiding me."

He turned around pinching the bridge of his nose, "I don't have to explain myself to you y/n. I've told you the truth if you don't believe me then that's on you." there was no emotion in his voice.

Every part of you wanted to scream at his face all the lies he's said. Yet deep down you knew there was no point, he didn't love you anymore. He wasn't around to hold you or give you a good night kiss like he used to. It was like living with a stranger.

Your eyes became glossier "Can you blame me?" you questioned "I've tried to make plans with you but you turn them down, every time." he slightly bended forward to look into the fridge, "These months haven’t felt like a relationship... it feels one sided Tsukishima."

His movements stopped as he heard his last name again. The only time you ever called him that was when you were in highschool. It hurt knowing that the distance between you two was growing faster than he realized.

"Just say you don't care..." you bit your lip trying to hold back tears, "I don't want to keep holding onto someone who doesn't give two shits about me anymore."

"You're not making is easy for me either." he gripped the door.

"What are you talking about-"

Slamming the door closed he turned to face you. "You don't think I see the way you've been getting closer to Kageyama!? Huh?" he snapped "Every time I walk passed your hall I see you both talking. Standing closer than what 'only friends' should be."

"You're going to take that little card out on me?" you scoffed wiping away your tears "I've speaking to him because he's the one who has been there for me!" you yelled looking at him. "He's been doing the job that you're supposed to be doing! Kageyama has taken care of me, talked to me, asked me about my day, and comforted me.” ypu paused “Making sure I'm safe because you don't bother with that anymore!" Tears escaped from your eyes, "Do you realize how bad it hurts knowing you have to seek comfort in someone else's arms?!"

Tsukishima looked off to the side not wanting to see your broken figure. On the outside he can put the blame on you all he wants but deep down he made it worse. He noticed the way you became closed off and not bothered whether he was present or not. It pained him.

"No matter h-how... h-hard I try..." you sobbed "I'll never get back the Tsukishima that fell in love with me..." your hands rested against his chest then gripped onto his shirt. "You don't care anymore... so please..." you whispered "Tell me you don't love me..."

Gently, he took your hands off of him. “I never said I didn’t love you.”

“You don’t need to, you already did with the way you’ve been treating me.” you wiped your tears.

“Everything ended the moment we decided to live together.” he said, your stomach dropped. “We can’t deny that it stopped being enjoyable. You can’t say that I’m lying.”

“That’s not true...” you mumbled not wanting to face the music.

“Oh come on!” he shouted “Nothing we do will ever fix things. Stop being dillusional and for once have the decency to admit it that this ‘relationship’ was never one anymore! We were stupid too stupid to move in together to begin with, it stopped being an us ever since we graduated from high school!”

You looked away, the room turned silent only your sniffles could be heard. ‘When did our everyday interaction turn into an absolute hell?’ you thought, ‘After everything we’ve been through...’

He then walked passed you, “It’s best if we stop this already. If we keep pretending for our sake it’s only going to make it worse.”

“Everytime you open your mouth I want to push you over the edge of a cliff and I mean that with all my heart.”

“Don’t you think I feel the same way about you?” he retorted “I had to convince myself that I still loved you but it kept getting harder. It’s useless for you to blame me when we’re both at fault.”

Your hands turned into fists, every body in your bone was inching to punch to him. “Why didn’t you say h-how bad it was? Why did you have to keep leading me on thinking one day it could have been fxed?”

For once he was being honest with you “It became a routine.” he answered grabbing his bag “There was no joy of coming back to this place, it felt empty and cold no matter what season it was. We were stuck in a time loop for both our sanity and fear of breaking apart. I realized it the minute I saw you with Kageyama.”

“Your explanation is sounding like something you had already planned-”

“Think what you want.” he rubbed his eyes “I don’t want to be stuck in a loophole like you.” another tear was felt in his heart at the sight of seeing his ex lover for the last time.

“Why did I have to fall for someone like you Kei Tsukishima...”

Looking away from you he took of his glasses “You can stay in the apartment if you’d like. I can stay with Tadashi for the time being.” he continued “We could have walked away at any time we were just avoiding the heartbreak we didn’t want to face.”

He was walking away from you again but your feet didn’t move this time to stop him. There was still love for him somewhere deep inside of you yet your body didn’t react to him leaving. “You can come back for your things tomorrow.”

Not saying another word he walked out, leaving you alone in your once shared apartment. Your knees buckled and you collapsed onto the ground. A cry errupted from within you as you felt the pain settle. Your phone then vibrated repeatedly, your blurry eyesight was able to make out the picture on the caller ID.

Tsukishima stood on the other side of the door, biting his lip as he tried to contain his muffled cries. His fist rested against the door along with his head, he wanted to go back and carry you in his arms one last time. The ache in his chest grew bigger as reality was setting in. He was about to throw his pride and tell you how sorry he was for treating you badly in the past. Yet his hand didn’t turn the doorknob as he heard another voice coming from the other side of the door.

“K-kageyama...” you said “He... he left.”

“Y/n...” Kageyama spoke, “Don’t move okay? I’m on my way. Do you want me to call Suga too?”

“No... just come only you please...” you begged.

“I’m on my way hon, I promise I won’t keave your side.”

‘I lost you for good.’ Tsukishima thought, ‘I hope you’re happier with him than you were with me.’ he walked downstairs and headed towards his friend’s place not looking back.

“Tadashi? It’s me. Can I crash at your place for a while?”

#kei tsukishima #kei tsukishima x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq!! x reader #haikyuu blog #hq!! scenarios #hq!! angst #hq tsukishima #hq x y/n #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu tsukishima #hq!! imagines #hq!! x you #anime fanfic #fanfic

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years ago

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Of Kings and Beasts - Twelve

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Smut (almost?), Injuries, Violence,

Word Count: 3K

A/n: Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! 18+!!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

Your eyes slowly flutter open, your head throbbing and body aching.

The events prior to your collapse come flooding into your mind and you’re suddenly filled with anxiety.

You push yourself up, wincing as ropes bite into your wrists and a gag scratches the corners of your mouth

You’re bound on a bed, still wearing your cape and gown.

“I was beginning to wonder when you would wake up... if I had been a little too rough with you,” a silky voice says.

You look over to the source, glaring at the man by the window.

Loki only smiles at you, slowly walking towards you.

“You’re far smarter than anyone gives you credit for, do you know that? The Kings think you to be nothing more than a delicate princess, but we both know that’s not true. You had to find your way, make your way. You’ve gone to great lengths just to survive. And that’s where you and I are similar.”

Two long, cold fingers are under your chin, tilting your head back.

“You’re so much more than they think. But they won’t get to know that, will they?” Your eyes widen and you shimmy back, terrified for your life.

The man only laughs, shaking his head.

“I’m not going to kill you, petal. Not yet, anyway. But I cannot say the same for your husbands.” You make a noise through your gag, wanting to only ask him one question.

“You want to know why?” He asks, waiting until you nod before answering.

“Because I have lived in the shadows for far too long. That is something that you and I have in common. We’ve both blossomed in the shadows of other people. But for no longer. It is time for me to take my rightful place as King. King of Asgard. King of Acadia. They will be one under my rule.” Your brows draw together. He means to overthrow not one but two of the strongest kingdoms on the continent.

He opens his mouth to further his explanation, but the door opens and a certain blond-haired beast walks in.

“Ah, yes. I was about to come fetch you,” Loki says, looking over at you and shooting you a wink. You’re still so confused.

“Now, you have your fun with your new wife, while I go divert the attention of her husbands,” Loki says, taking a step back. His appearance changes before your very eyes, and then you’re staring at yourself.

Your lips smile at you, and then your body is walking out of the King’s chambers and closing the door tightly behind.

Thor seems to pay his shape-shifting brother no mind and is instead entirely focused on you.

He slowly approaches the bed, hands extended towards you and you flinch away.

A frown graces his features and he shakes his head, pulling the gag from your mouth.

“I had asked him not to be so rough with you, but he insisted it was necessary. I do hope you’ll forgive me, my love.” You’re taken aback by the name, staring at him in shock.

He chuckles, the sound almost nervous.

“I suppose I should explain myself.” You wait a little less than patiently as the King gathers his thoughts, his eyes darting to you ever now and again.

“You... you are intriguing. You’ve bewitched me, as I said. Captured both my attention and my heart with only a few moments.”

“What in the name of the Gods are you speaking of?” You’re so bloody confused.

“When I first stumbled upon you, I had hoped that you were not in fact the queen. That instead, you were a mere maiden in the Palace. But even finding that you are wed to two of my dear friends... why, it wasn’t enough to stop me from falling for you.” He takes your bound hands in his, thumbs rubbing over your palms. It makes you feel sick to your stomach, and you wrench yourself out of his grip.

“You will not touch me! Not after what you’ve done.” A thought bubbles into your mind and you look up at him. “Loki had called me your new wife... what on Earth does he mean by that?” Thor grins, two fingers stroking your cheek gently while he gazes at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You are to be my wife, (Y/n). And I swear to you that I shall treat you with the respect and the love that you deserve. Your current husbands should be killed for the way they have treated something as delicate as you.” You glare at him, jerking your face away.

“You will not speak of my husbands in such a manner. Your actions are treasonous, and you will bring war upon your kingdom. Why would you do that for me? Why overthrow their kingdom? The greed of men never ceases to disgust me.” He furrows his brows, him being the confused one this time.

“Why would I not go to the ends of the Earth for the woman I love? You have carved a way into my heart, darling, and I would both die for you and kill for you.”

You shake your head vigorously, wanting to cease his speaking.

“How can you claim to love me when you do not even truly know me? You know nothing of me, besides whatever you have created from your own imagination. You do not love me, Thor. Do not try to convince yourself or me that you do.”

He grips your face roughly, eyes alight with fire.

“Do not for a moment think that I am not in love with you.” His voice is booming, frightening even, and for a moment you shrink in on yourself, reduced to that terrified young princess yet again.

He takes a deep breath then lets it out, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I did not mean to frighten you, my love, I just... I love you and I need you to know it, to accept it. You are to be my wife. My queen, and the mother of my children. I know it is not something you are keen on, only due to your loyalty to your first marriage, but that will be fixed over time, I promise. You need only give me a chance. A chance to show you how it feels to truly be loved.”

There's something off about him, his eyes, his smile. But you cannot deny the fact that his offer is tempting. A chance to not live in fear? To be treated with respect and love? It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so much more.

But you cannot simply give up on your husbands, can you?

~*~

“There you are! We were beginning to get worried!” James exclaims, taking your hand and ushering you into the room.

Steve watches curiously, something about you seeming off to him.

“I was engaged with Loki, I do apologize for taking so long.” You sit down on the bed, hand reaching for Steve’s.

Something’s not right.

You’ve been quite receptive to their physical touches, but this doesn’t feel right.

Instead of saying anything, the King keeps quiet and plasters a smile onto his face.

“You’re safe here, darling. You need not cut your conversations short for us.” You smile up at him then look over to the note on the bedside table.

“Have you had any luck?” The two shake their heads, wishing they were closer to figuring out who the threat is.

“What can you remember about receiving the letter? The time, if anybody was around?” James watches as your brows furrow, trying to recall anything that may be of use.

“Nothing stands out... although... Thor was quite adamant about bringing me here instead of back to you. I thought that a little strange but at the time I did not question it. And... there was an incident the other night.” Steve’s hand finds your lower back, urging you to continue.

“He made advances... declared his love for me. He later apologized for it, but the entire event has put me on edge.” The two Kings exchange glances at this new information, the brunet ready to go find Thor and give him a piece of his mind.

“Please do not be angry. I’m sure he meant nothing by it, and I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble.” James shushes you, taking a seat on the bed beside you.

“You won’t cause any trouble. If this issue bothers you, then it must be brought up. We will have words with Thor.” You nod, the corners of your mouth turning up in a small but sinister grin.

~*~

The door to the chambers you’ve been trapped in opens, and the trickster walks in with a gleaming smile on his face.

“What have you done now?” You demand, tugging against your bonds.

He only chuckles, walking past you to the small tray of food on the bedside table.

“Oh, I’ve done nothing. It’s what you’ve done that will be the downfall of the two great kingdoms.” You shake your head at him, wanting to know exactly what he’s talking about.

“Right as we speak, you’re confessing to the Kings just how much my idiot brother loves you, how much he longs to be with you and how he would do anything for you. And we both know how much of a temper your husbands have, especially when it comes to you. So it is only a matter of time before they become defensive and seek him out.”

“Wait, Thor is unaware of your plot?” The man laughs, a full belly laugh from deep in his core at your question.

“Oh, Gods no! He is nothing more than a pawn in a far bigger plan than he realizes. His simple mind was far too easy to take, and his initial protection over you was easy to nurture into an infatuation and an unhealthy obsession.” He looks over at you, a smile on his face.

“And you, my dear, are going to be my greatest piece yet. His obsession will be not only the downfall of the Kingdoms, but also of you. He will be your undoing. Because in his mind, if he cannot have you, then nobody else can.” He straightens up and walks over to the wardrobe, pulling off his cloak and hanging it up.

“It’s unfortunate, really, because you are quite beautiful. Beauty is something that shouldn’t be wasted. But I suppose they’ll write sonnets and ballads about how ‘your beauty was what brought the kingdoms to ash’.” You struggle against your bonds, wanting nothing more than to take the knife strapped to your thigh and slash his throat with it.

“You will never get away with this! The Kings are far too smart. They’ll see right through your disguises.” He chuckles and turns to you, arms crossed over his chest.

“There’s a magic in this world, girl. One that you could not even begin to understand. The Kings are nothing more than mortal men. They will succumb to the powers I wield and they will burn, with you alongside them.” He cocks his head to the side, eyes raking over your face.

“But perhaps I need to have my own turn with you. Experience you both inside and out.” You shiver in disgust, pushing yourself as far back on the bed as you can.

The door creaks and the two of you look to the sound, the trickster backing up a step before vanishing into thin air, leaving you alone with the newcomer.

“I do hope you'll pardon my absence,” Thor says timidly, raking a hand through his hair and shutting the door behind himself.

“I had hoped to spend more time with you, however the duties of a King need to be fulfilled.” You say nothing, Loki’s words ringing over and over again in your ears.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t realize he’s climbed onto the bed until his large hands are pushing your knees apart.

“W-wait no!” An idea bubbles into your mind and you speak before you have time to second-guess yourself.

“If you truly wish for me to enjoy our time together, you must release me from my bonds! Do not take me the way the other Kings have. Please. You say you love me, then release me so that I too may enjoy it.” His face softens and he nods, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek before reaching around your back to yank the rope off of you.

“It was never my intention to bind you, sweet flower. But Loki insisted. He said that you couldn’t be trusted and I... I believed him. Please forgive me, my love.” He takes your hands in his so gently, so much love and affection behind his actions, and you find yourself feeling sorry for the man.

Beneath the pity is an anger. Anger at Loki for putting not only Thor through this, but for tormenting you with the knowledge that his love is not real. Nothing more than a facade.

“Thor... how much do you trust your brother?” The blond looks confused by the question and takes a moment to ponder it before answering.

“I... well... Loki and I have not always seen eye to eye. But within the past few months he has come around and been more present. All I’ve ever wanted was for my brother to feel at home in his kingdom. He believes himself to be shunned, an outcast, but he is my brother and I love him dearly. It pains me to see him shut himself away, but now he’s opening back up. And I do think that there is hope for us yet.” Your heart cracks at this.

“But enough about him. This should be about us. You and me, my dear.” His lips are then on your neck, hips pushing between your thighs and big body holding you down against the mattress.

Once again, you find yourself pinned beneath a man with no hope of escaping.

Well... almost no hope.

You swallow back the bile in your throat and seek out his lips, kissing him fiercely while your hands grasp at his shoulders.

He pulls away after a moment, yanking his tunic above his head and grinning down at you.

“Eager, are we?” You nod, fingers trailing over his sculpted torso.

He is a beautiful specimen, and it pains you to do what you’re doing.

“My King,” you whisper, back arching as he kisses over your neck once again. He hums, waiting for you to speak.

“May I ride you?” The words are whispered, barely breathed in the warm air of the room, but they elicit a growl from the man above you.

Your positions are flipped in an instant, you straddling the blond man while he lays comfortably below you.

His hands find your hips while your own shaky fingers pull his manhood from his trousers.

A groan leaves his lips at the feeling of your soft hands against his hot length, and your eyes flash up to his face.

His eyes are squeezed shut, and in that moment you realize it’s now or never.

One hand stays on his length, stroking gently, while the other reaches to the dagger strapped on your inner thigh.

You don’t need to kill him, only to incapacitate him long enough for you to escape.

Disguising the motion as you simply moving your skirts out of the way, you grind your teeth together and squeeze your eyes shut.

The blade is raised high above your head, and then with all your might, you slam it down into his abdomen.

He lurches forward, eyes popping open in shock as you yank the blade back out and stumble off the bed.

His face contorts with first confusion, then betrayal, and pain following.

“Why?” His voice is a broken whisper, but you don’t dwell on it. Instead, you rise to your feet and sprint out of his chambers, bloody knife still held tightly in your grasp.

You can hear him behind you, grunting with pain as he moves through his chambers then stumbles through the doorway, but you’re already far enough ahead to create a scene if need be.

You cut through the gardens, grabbing your skirts and hiking them up above your knees to give you more room to run.

Your shoulder connects with the familiar door of safety, and you stumble inside, shaking hands dropping both your skirts and the blade onto the floor.

“(Y/n)?!” James and Steve rush over to you quickly, inspecting your body for any wounds.

“I-It’s Thor! And Loki! Loki’s behind all of it and he has Thor trapped under a curse of some kind! I do not know what he has told you, but he was posing as me and you must believe me!” You’re near hysterical, knowing that if they don’t believe you then you’ll be sent straight back into the hands of the King.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Steve asks.

“Loki is a sorcerer. A powerful one. H-he posed as me and no doubt came to the two of you. I can only imagine the lies he spewed. He means to overthrow the kingdoms and he has Thor under-” The door gets pushed open, the man in question looking around frantically until his eyes fall upon your figure.

“Ah, there you are. You needn’t be afraid, my love. I know it was only an accident.” He’s got one of his hands pressed against the gaping wound in his abdomen, the other reaching out for you.

“No!” You cry, near ready to pull your hair out.

James pushes you behind his back, unsheathing his sword and pointing it at the King.

“You will not take another step, do you understand? We can discuss this like men, not fight about it like boys.” Thor blinks a few times, eyes darting between you and your husbands.

“Very well.” He straightens up, face perfectly political.

“I would like you to hand over my wife, or I will kill her where she stands. If I cannot have her, then nobody can.”

370 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

Text

Trust Me

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Request by @adela-topaz-caelon: So, I love Juice, and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing a Juice x Female reader, in which the reader is Opie's younger sister, and helps the club in her own way. She's bubbly, but very ferocious when needs be, and the scenario I have in mind is they've always been attracted to each other, and good friends. When Potter first tries to coerce Juice, she knows something's up, works the truth out of him and goes on this mission for Juice that results in a fluffy coming together

Warnings: language, light angst, Juice being a soft and slightly sad boy

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I’m here for all these requests about helping Juice dig himself out of the hole he put himself in during this series haha. Love that for him. Also, this was the most I’ve ever written for Opie as a character and it was actually very enjoyable haha. Hope y’all like this! xo

SOA Taglist: @mijop @garbinge @masterlistforimagines (As always, let me know if you'd like to be tagged!)

You walked across the lot at T-M, scanning the garages for your brother, waiting to see him towering over everyone. He was nowhere to be found, though. With a quiet sigh, you walked up to the garage and waved to get someone’s, anyone’s attention who could give you an answer as to where he was.

Juice had spotted you the second you stepped down out of your car. He jogged over to you, a smile on his face as he met you on the pavement. His grin was one that was impossible not to return. He was wiping grease from the palms of his hands onto his pants so he could hug you without leaving any stains on you.

“Y/N, hey,” he wrapped you in a brief embrace, “All good?”

You stepped back and nodded, “All good. Just looking for Ope? Said he was gonna need help with a couple things tonight and to meet him here.”

Juice nodded, “Think he’s in the clubhouse.”

“Great! Thank you. I’ll see you in a bit,” you flashed him a smile before turning and walking across the lot to the clubhouse.

Juice was left there, unable to do anything besides watch you walk away. He couldn’t help but to be mesmerized by the way you walked, so lightly but with just enough authority to let people know that you weren’t someone to be messed with. Your smile was just inviting enough to let people know that you were kind, but not so disarming that you were setting yourself up to be taken advantage of. If growing up with Opie had taught you anything, it was how to carry yourself.

“You’re askin’ for trouble, brother,” Jax materialized behind him with a chuckle.

“What?” Juice tried to feign ignorance.

“Opie will stomp you out like the bug you are if you ever try to get too close to her.”

Juice shook his head, “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure,” he chuckled and clapped him on the back, “Whatever you say.”

Despite the fact that Jax had just called him out, he still couldn’t make himself walk back to the garage until you had disappeared into the clubhouse, the door shutting behind you. Juice let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. With a shake of his head, he walked back to the truck that he had been working on, his brain now running at a mile a minute with so many different thoughts of you.

Juice had fallen a little in love with you the first time he’d seen you. He hadn’t been in Charming all that long, and was just starting to slip into the role of prospect. He was in the clubhouse, stacking cases of beer behind the bar when you came striding in. It felt like the wind had gotten knocked out of his lungs as he looked you over—he was certain that you had made a wrong turn somewhere. There was no way that a girl like you purposely landed yourself in a place like the Samcro clubhouse.

You’d walked up to the bar, given him a smile that made him weak in the knees, and asked if he had seen your brother.

“Wh-who’s your brother?” he stammered out nervously, now jittery not just from the fact that he thought you were beautiful, but also from the fact that you were the sister of one of the men in the MC.

You laughed as you sat down on the stool directly across from him, “Ah, so you’re the new guy,” you looked him up and down before finally answering his question, “Opie.”

His eyes went wide, “Opie?”

You chuckled, “I know—I got the all the looks and he got all the height. Unfortunate division of genes.”

“Thought I heard trouble,” Opie’s voice cut through the clubhouse before the conversation between you and Juice could continue any further.

You laughed as he walked up behind you, resting his hands down on your shoulders and pulling you back into him, you head resting back against the leather of his kutte. Opie had dismissed Juice, granting himself some privacy to be able to talk to his sister without any interruptions. However as Juice left the clubhouse that day, he knew that you were someone he wasn’t going to be forgetting about any time soon.

The two of you had become friends rather quickly after that. You loved all of the guys in the MC—they were your brothers as much as they were Opie’s. But you couldn’t deny that there was something different about Juice. He had a type of light and kindness emanating from him that you just didn’t see in Charming very often, let alone in the club. Your brother had kept a close, scrutinizing eye on you when the two of you first started spending time together, but as time went on he conceded that maybe it was a good friendship for the both of you. You were level-headed enough to keep Juice reined in, and he kept you from taking yourself too seriously. It took some time, but Opie eventually stopped feeling like he had to constantly be looking over your shoulder whenever you were around Juice.

That first day felt like it was lifetimes ago now, though. You made your way back to the dorms once you didn’t see Opie sitting in the main area of the bar. The door to his room was closed, so you gave it a couple knocks and waited for your cue to enter. A few moments later, Opie pulled the door open and offered up a tired smile as he pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head.

“You look like shit,” you said with a laugh as you sat down on his bed.

“Good to see you too,” he chuckled and shook his head, trying to smooth out his extremely disheveled hair.

“Everything alright?”

“Need to ask you for a favor.”

You nodded, assuming that that was where this conversation was going to be heading, “Whatever you need.”

“Got some club business to handle. Most of us are gonna be outta town for a few days. Was wondering if you would be willing to stay here and help keep things running smoothly?”

You shrugged, nodding, “Yea, of course. Who’s gonna have the kids?”

“Mom.”

You nodded, a little surprised that your mother was still willing to take the kids when Opie had club business. You weren’t going to get into that discussion with him, though, “Who else is staying behind?”

“It’s just gonna be you, Chucky, and Juice. Gemma’s got family shit going on so we could really use you here at T-M. Mechanics will still be on deck and everything, but I’d feel better knowing we had someone else here who was Samcro.”

You loved that you got to be part of the inner circle of everything happening with the club. You didn’t get to know everything, but you got to know more than most. The fact that Opie trusted you meant the world to you. There was something exciting about the fact that every now and then he talked about you like you were part of the club.

“I got you,” you said with a nod, “But I’m crashing here. I don’t trust what might be on the sheets in anyone else’s dorms.”

He laughed, “Smart,” he ran his hands over his face, “Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate it.”

“You guys heading out tonight?”

“Couple hours,” he sighed, “Sorry for the short notice.”

You shrugged, “No big deal. We always figure it out,” you stood up and gave him a hug, “I’m gonna go pack some shit to bring here with me for the next few days. I’ll try to be back before you guys head out.”

“Alright. Love you.”

“Love you back,” you called to him as you walked out of his dorm.

Later that afternoon, once all of the guys had peeled out of the compound, you realized just how quiet things were at T-M when they weren’t all around causing trouble. It was peaceful but it also felt a little empty. The chaos is what made it feel like home.

You walked into the clubhouse and saw Juice sitting at the bar, typing furiously away at his laptop. You smiled as you sauntered onto the other side of the bar, grabbing one beer for yourself and one for him, popping the caps off on the edge of the bar. You set his next to his laptop and you saw the smile creep across his face even though he didn’t take his eyes off of the screen in front of him.

“Just you and me for the next few days, Juice,” you said with a smirk.

That got his eyes to flick up to you for a moment. He smiled, a nervous laugh slipping out past his lips, “Looks like it.”

“Don’t look so nervous,” you chuckled, “You know I don’t bite.”

It hit Juice that this was the first time that the two of you were going to be left to your own devices for an extended period of time. The idea of it was exciting and terrifying for him all at once. For years he’d admired you and kept it to himself so he wouldn’t catch any of Opie’s wrath. But he had never been able to shake the feeling that maybe, possibly, you felt the same way about him. He was never bold enough to ask, but there was always a feeling in his gut that his feelings weren’t one-sided. There had never been the chance to even try to discuss it, there were always so many other people around, namely your brother and your father. Neither of those men were people that Juice felt like pissing off.

“You crashing here?” he asked.

You nodded as you sipped on your beer, “Yea. Taking Ope’s room. You?”

He nodded, “Always do when the guys leave town. Someone’s gotta stay here and make sure the bad guys don’t get in,” there was a childish grin on his face.

You laughed, “The bad guys just rolled out of town a few minutes ago.”

The two of you existed peacefully with each other as the afternoon bled over into the evening. You were camped out on the picnic table outside the clubhouse, a drink in one hand and a book in the other. You were laying on your back on top of the table, book perched carefully on your chest as you absorbed another page of the story.

You heard Juice’s phone going off, followed quickly by the sound of him answering it. You wanted to eavesdrop, but he was just a little too far away to be able to make out what he was saying. You sat up on the table, swinging your legs so that your feet landed on the bench. You stretched and waited for Juice to step outside.

He came out a couple minutes later, shrugging a hoodie on over his kutte. You saw the confused look on his face and just as you were about to ask him where he was going, he turned and looked at you, “Be back in a bit. Got some shit I gotta handle.”

“Everything okay?”

He nodded, “Yea. Just lock the gate behind me, don’t want you here by yourself unprotected.”

You agreed, fighting the urge to ask all of the questions that were bubbling up in your mind. You watched as he pulled his helmet on and hopped onto his bike. He looked at you and offered up a half-hearted smile before peeling out of the compound. With a heavy sigh, you did as he asked, shutting and locking the gates behind him once he had left.

Your original plan had been to head to bed, but you knew that you weren’t going to be able to fall asleep without knowing that he was back safe and sound in the clubhouse. A million different scenarios were running through your mind as you made your way back to Opie’s dorm. You tried to tune out your own brain as you changed into an old hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. You figured you would just hang out in the clubhouse and wait for Juice to get back—there wasn’t much else to do otherwise especially now that you were locked onto the compound.

Not too long after Juice had left, you got a check-in text from Opie. You didn’t mention that Juice had left you on your own. It was either one of two scenarios: it was club business and Opie knew about it, or it was personal business and Opie didn’t need to know about it. You reassured him that all was quiet.

Juice had been gone for a couple hours and you were starting to get worried. You wanted to reach out, send a text or give him a call, but you refrained. If he needed your help he knew how to reach you. You were sprawled on the couch in the clubhouse, eyes resting shut but still incredibly awake.

You heard the clubhouse door open. You slowly sat up and looked over at Juice, who was clearly trying to step quietly because he thought that you had been asleep. Embarrassment flashed across his features for a moment when he saw you looking at him attempting to tip-toe on the creaky hardwood floors. He looked so much more exhausted than when he had left.

“You okay? Was starting to get a little worried.”

He nodded, “Fine. Just some personal shit going on.”

He had never been a good liar. But you knew that it wasn’t the time to press the issue, “Alright. I’m here if you wanna talk, you know. Every now and then I even have good advice.”

He forced a smile, “Thank you.”

He disappeared back towards the dorms and left you alone in the open expanse of the bar. You sighed, leaning your head back against the arm of the couch. Running your hands down over your face, you let out a quiet groan. You got up off the couch and shut off all the lights in the main area of the bar. It was one of the only times you’d ever seen it empty, clean, and quiet. You headed back towards the dorms.

Stopping just outside Juice’s door, you took a deep breath in to pluck up some courage. You tapped your knuckles lightly on his door that was slightly ajar. You heard some shuffling around before his voice called out for you to come in.

You walked in to see him in a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. Your breath got caught in your throat, and for a moment you forgot that you were popping in to check on him. You shook your head to dispel the thoughts. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, feet planted firmly on the floor. He wouldn’t look up at you and it made your heart sink inside your chest.

“You sure you’re alright? If you want some company I—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off, something he’d never done before, “Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You tried to hide how much it had stung to have him be that short with you. Your voice was soft, “Goodnight.”

You laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling. You hated that Juice being short with you had such a negative effect on you, but he’d never been that way with you. The club had been through some serious ups and downs, and even when things felt like they were crumbling, he was always kind and soft with you. It concerned you as much as anything else.

It was reaching into the small hours of the morning and you still hadn’t been able to fall asleep. You huffed, swinging your legs off the bed and standing up. You flipped the hood of your sweatshirt up and made your way out into the clubhouse, hoping that maybe a shot or two of something strong would help put you to sleep. You were fumbling around in the dark when you heard the click of a gun behind you.

“It’s me,” you knew it was Juice, so you didn’t bother to turn around.

“Jesus Christ,” he clicked the safety back on his gun and let his hands drop to his sides, “Why are you up so early?”

“Late,” you corrected, “Never fell asleep.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” you grabbed a bottle of whiskey and took a swig, cringing as the liquor burned down your throat.

“Whoa, whoa,” Juice walked over and took the bottle from you, “I don’t think that’s the answer to the problem.”

You looked at him, still seeing worry etched into his features, the light in his eyes just a little duller than usual, “What’s going on with you?”

He glanced over at you as he put the bottle away, “What?”

“You heard me. What happened tonight?”

“Is that why you haven’t been able to sleep?”

It felt childish to say, but you did anyway, “You’ve never snapped at me like that.”

He sighed, running his hand along his fauxhawk as he did. He forced himself to look over at you. He couldn’t lie to you but he didn’t want to tell you the truth either. There was too much on the line for both of you.

“It’s nothing that you need to get roped into,” he answered honestly.

“I’m not just Opie’s sister, you know,” you waited for him to look you in the eyes, “I’m your friend. I’m…I’m someone who cares about you. You can talk to me—I’m not just gonna go running to my fucking brother.”

“I know,” his response was immediate, “I know you won’t. It’s not that. It’s just, fuck,” he shook his head, “The whole thing is a mess.”

“C’mon,” you waved for him to walk with you back towards the dorms, “sit and talk with me.”

The two of you found yourselves sat on Juice’s bed. You were both sitting cross-legged, facing each other. Juice twisted his hands nervously in his lap as he started to tell you about everything that had been happening with him and Roosevelt and Potter. He told you about what they had said to him at the meeting that night, about the position that they were putting him in.

“I can’t go to the club with this.”

“Why not?” you knew the situation wasn’t ideal, but there was no one that the club hated more than the feds. If anything, they would be more than willing to help take them down or at the very least run them out of Charming.

“I can’t risk losing this,” he gestured around him to the dorm and clubhouse around him, “It’s the only home, the only family that I’ve got,” he paused, eyes searching your face for a moment, “And I can’t lose you either.”

A wave of warmth washed over you at the sentiment. You reached forward and placed your hands on top of his, “Juice, like it or not, you’re never going to be able to get rid of me. You’re stuck with me now.”

He chuckled, trying to make it seem like his emotions weren’t about to get the better of him, “Promise?”

“Promise,” you nodded towards his nightstand where his laptop was resting, “Grab that for me.”

He did as you asked, but couldn’t hide his confusion as he handed it over to you. You smiled at the expression on his face as you began to start typing away on his keyboard. In that moment he realized he’d never seen you use a computer—you’d never had a reason to around him. He watched in awe as your fingers flew across the keyboard.

You were lying on your stomach on his bed, laptop propped up on his pillow. Juice was lying down beside you, close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of his body and soaking into yours. You tried not to focus on that as you continued to click through windows and move things around on his desktop.

“Do I get to ask what you’re doing?”

You chuckled, “I’m doing a little information recon,” you glanced over at him with a smile, “You’re not the only one with tech know-how around here, Juicy. I just never wanted to steal your thunder in front of the guys.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “How kind of you. What’re you looking for, anyway?”

“Dirt,” you replied simply.

“On Potter?” when you nodded in response, he couldn’t hide the doubt that was warping his features, “You’re not going to be able to find anything on him. There’s no way his shit isn’t locked in a vault somewhere behind twenty million walls of encryptions.”

You shook your head, “Oh ye of little faith. No one is clean,” you sighed, “Especially not the fucking feds.”

Juice laughed, “Now you’re sounding like a patch.”

You chuckled, “Might as well be.”

Your typing faltered when you felt his hand slide underneath the warm fabric of your hoodie. His palm rested gently in the center of your back, and he didn’t make any comment about it. You fought to keep your composure, but the warmth seeping into your skin from his was making it difficult.

He rested his chin onto your shoulder and you felt like you were about to combust. He spoke up, his tone gentle, “Thank you.”

“Yea,” you fought to keep your tone even, “of course. You know I’ve always got your back.”

“And I’m sorry. About earlier, I mean. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that—I know you just wanted to help.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he slid his hand so that his arm was wrapped around you and pulled you close to him, prying your attention away from his computer, “I was just hit with all these thoughts of losing everything that I have here. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

You reveled in the feelings of his arms being wrapped around you. Gently, hesitantly, you reached out and traced your fingers down the side of his face. He let his eyes flutter shut as he leaned into your touch and you could feel your heart swelling inside your chest. There was a softness to him that you hoped he would never lose.

“We’re going to figure this out,” you leaned in and pressed your forehead to his, “Do you trust me?”

He took a deep breath and nodded as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, “Yea, I do.”

“Juice?” you asked after a few moments of silence.

He pulled away from you just enough so that he could look into your eyes, “Yea?”

“Can I stay here with you tonight?”

His heart was beating fast enough that he could’ve sworn that you could hear it, “Y-yea. Of course.”

You smiled as you shut the laptop and placed it back onto his bedside table. You shimmied yourself underneath the covers and waited for him to do the same. It was going to be a long few days of trying to get as many answers put together before everyone got back, but those were problems for the morning. For now, you focused on the feeling of Juice’s heartbeat against your cheek as you snuggled into him. His hand caressed your back and you let out a quiet hum of contentment. You felt him smile against your forehead before he placed a gentle kiss there.

“Goodnight,” he said softly.

You finally felt your exhaustion starting to kick in, “Goodnight.”

#soa #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #juice ortiz #juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz x you #juice ortiz imagine #juan carlos #juan carlos ortiz #opie winston #drabblesmc #fanfiction #my writing

171 notes · View notes

korijime · 3 years ago

Note

albedo ♥️

— appetence

(n.) an attraction or a natural bond

albedo, genshin impact

fluff, slight mentions of albedo’s story quest

wc ; one thousand four hundred and fifty eight words

riyuu says ; what is with me tonight. i just wrote and entire thing for kazuha and a 1k fic for albedo in like..an hour? i’m proud of me

this is. entirely your fault, kai. i was gonna make this painful angst but i changed my mind after being convinced otherwise so yes. it might not be that good? i almost feel like the ending was rushed?? maybe i’ll redo it soon or something idk

or do the same concept but a different plot aka he fucking dies hell yeah

i really. really love soft slightly subtly protective albedo. if he befriends someone and trusts that they can handle themselves in big alchemy and combat he will. he will befriend them properly and he will cherish the time he spends with them

i also like albedo breathing in the cold dragonspine air because the motherfucker actually does not breathe when he’s in dragonspine, extremely sus of him if you ask me.

this isn’t proof read please spare me it’s nearly 2 am

dragonspine had always been a common spot for you to practice your skills, as an up and coming alchemist alongside sucrose, you enjoyed dabbling into other arts as well, it was therapeutic.

much to your joy, the chief alchemist shared your interests. more often than not, you found yourself setting up your canvases side by side, focusing on different aspects of the same picture, comparing the details and sharing criticism.

albedo wasn’t the most talkative, nor was he social, but you were one of the few who managed to befriend him despite that. your common interests became a medium for the basis of your friendship, and none could deny the absolute glee on your face when you heard from sucrose that albedo seemed to enjoy his time with you.

he hadn’t denied it when you asked, either, choosing instead to nod in agreement, “it’s enjoyable, you understand the things i say, add onto them, our common interests make us compatible. i find you amusing, there aren’t many people like that, which is why i enjoy my time with you.”

may it be purely innocent, but that didn’t stop the warmth settling itself into your chest. when reminded of how albedo doesn’t act with anyone else the way he does with you, how he deliberately goes to seek you out himself, for no particular reason other than to “sketch those lawachurls together, their behavioural patterns are different, we may be able to get something new this time.”

no, no, nothing could stop the warmth spreading from your chest to your hands when he takes ahold of it, his firm yet comfortable grip warming you up in the harsh cold of the snowy mountain, the one day you misplaces your gloves and yet you had never been more grateful for your own tardiness.

it was the small victories, small little joys when he would come to you, asking for help with an experiment, or for a second opinion, a different perspective or simply to ask what you think of whatever he’s working on that day. he would shut down any arguments you had about not being skilled enough to assist him, looking you in the eye only to say that, “i know you can assist me, is that not what matters? if they call me a genius, then am i not qualified to recognise your skills? your opinion matters because you are skilled, now, could you tell me what that lavender hue reminds you of?”

electro hypostatis powder, as you had come to learn in your very first days as a rookie alchemist, works wonders for energising . you couldn’t remember the amount of times you had brewed the energy potion for both you and albedo, the two of you desperately needing to keep your eyes open and vigilant so that the everflame seeds don’t react too violently with the lightning prisms, a potential bomb going off in albedo’s only lab in dragonspine would prove disastrous in more ways than one.

you had become so accustomed to assisting in his lab, it wasn’t uncommon to find some of your own belongings laying in one corner of his lab.

specifically, some of your sketchbooks. one of them in particular which you had been looking for all over mondstadt, only to remember that you had left it with albedo.

carefully picking aside some of the other books and equipment on the table, you grabbed your own sketchbook, checking to see whether the sketch you had been working on was unharmed.

confirming the safety of your sketch, you turned to leave the lab, glancing over it one last time to make sure you didn’t miss anything.

but you did, in fact, overlook something.

a letter, or a note? incomplete, but still almost a full page. what caught your eye was your name written in the middle of it all, and even though you were strictly against breaching someone else’s privacy, seeing your name on albedo’s documents was strange.

you made a silent promise to apologise afterwards, and gently picked up the paper, eyes scanning every word to make heads and tails of whatever was written. most of it, you couldn’t understand.

something about a heart, the word ‘master’ repeated a few times, alongside ‘durin’ and the mentions of a sword.

it didn’t make any sense to you, except for the paragraph where albedo explicitly states to not have you find out about any of this, “i wish not for them to be in any danger, they are important. to mondstadt, to the world of alchemy, and to me. please, do keep in mind my one request, and make sure they do not find out. they must not be in any danger at any point in time.”

you couldn’t blame the goosebumps on the cold of dragonspine, you couldn’t blame the warmth on the fireplaces in the lab. you couldn’t blame the slow smile that creeped up your face on anything but what you had just read, and you found yourself not caring about who or what to blame.

it didn’t make sense, it was worrying, and you would definitely have to go looking for albedo immediately, but reading what he said, the warmth in your chest grew, rapidly and more quicker than your and albedo’s relationship, you were warm from your head to your toes, and you found yourself struggling to stand upright.

it was overwhelming, almost, to know how albedo felt. he deemed you important to the only three things that mattered most to you. he acknowledged your intellect and he gave you the chance to improve your skills far beyond your imagination.

it was euphoric, if you could saunter out of the lab and go skipping in a field of dandelions, you would. unfortunately for you, this was dragonspine.

a harsh, cold authority which showed no mercy to whoever dared to venture.

and yet here you were, tugging on the scarf albedo had bought you a few weeks prior, preparing yourself to go looking for him. you were almost finished, too, hugging your jacket closer as you turned to leave, only to find yourself face-to-face with a wide-eyed albedo, who looked just as surprised as you did.

except, you yelped and stumbled backwards, while he breathed out and closed his eyes, standing still.

“i didn’t expect you to come here, is everything okay? did you need something?”

“ah! no, no, i just—i wanted to, well, i came here looking for you..”

he slightly furrowed his brows at that, tilting his head. “did you need something from me?”

“no, no, i just wanted to see if you were doing okay, you know? you’re up here often, it must get lonely, and very cold.”

you could’ve sworn on your grave you heard him chuckle, turning his head away from you. you stared straight at him, doing your best to decipher his reaction.

“well, yes, it does get lonely sometimes. but you’re here now, yes? you’re all the company i need.”

“is that so..how fortunate.”

“come, let’s have something to drink. we haven’t yet finished our sketches, have we?”

“mhm! there was something weird about the horns of the lawachurls, we can focus on that next.”

and if he took off his gloves to hand you your drink, who were you to question why his touch lingered for a second longer than it takes to hand someone a cup? and if he held onto your forearm even after he had pulled you out of the path of an angry boar, long after the incident had occurred, who were you to complain? if he didn’t let go, trailing his hand downwards and holding your hand as he led you to the spot where you two had been sketching a few days prior, you certainly didn’t point it out.

and if you saw, out of the corner of your eye, that he wasn’t paying attention to the lawachurl at all, that he had a fresh page in front of him, sketching not an icy mountain beast, but a human with sparkling, curious eyes and a focused expression, who were you to make the connection between yourself and his sketch?

who were you to be complaining when, not even a few weeks later, you had found several sketches of yourself in his sketchbook, only to have him cup your jaw, asking if you mind, asking if you would be okay with what he did, and what he’s about to do. you weren’t one to complain when he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered to him, not when he closed his as he leaned in, only for his mind to paint a picture he could only dream of creating with his own hands.

tagged ; @t-amajiki @tokyoghoose @lcaita @tartagliaxx

#albedo x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #albedo genshin impact

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poutyhannie · 4 years ago

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warnings: tsundere!minho, boxer!minho, fem!reader, mentions of d*ath, bl**d, kn*ves, violence, smut, fluff, angst :), dark cold minho finds a soft spot in y/n :))))

word count: +8k

The blisters on your hands burn as you placed the cash register on the shiny white counter. Finally, your life’s goal to begin a small cafe in town was complete, but this was only the beginning. Even the ache in your feet and back from the boxes and produce you carried in last night couldn’t shake the beaming smile you greet the empty store with. Golden light streams in from the freshly washed windows, bouncing off the racks of freshly baked breads and pastries. These beams of light must be the physical representation of the heavenly aroma of baking goods and you fill your lungs with it, content and elated at the prospect of a new chapter.

Among the normal baked goods, everyday items were placed around the counter, such as umbrellas and first aid kits. It was a small tactic to make a bit more profit or a thoughtful gesture, just in case customers needed something other than coffee and a croissant.

If you didn’t close the door soon, the cold morning gusts of wind would stale and harden the goods, but this display of openness was necessary to garner new customers so you quickly hopped from behind the counter to cover the goods with glass domes which served as lids.

The people of your city had been relatively friendly, spreading the word of your grand opening. Thanks to this, streams of customers filled your lavender-themed shop before the morning and evening rush. When the sun’s golden shine began to dissipate to cold blue, the goods were dwindling on the shelves, prepared to be restocked for tomorrow.

The front of your lavender purple apron was streaked with flour, chocolate, and jam as you wiped the counters of the same substances. The giddy excitement in your bones contradicted the cheerfully ticking clock on the wall that told you it was late into the night. When did the day spin away from you so quickly? Would all the days at your shop be this enjoyable? Sighing contently, you settle on one of the comfortable white chairs, finally feeling the pinching ache in your feet. You’d have to get employees once you made enough revenue, you were bound to only get more customers from here on out. Maybe you’d hire cleaners once a month to do a deep clean?

Thoughts prospective of your future and the future of your shop were interrupted when the door swung open—you were concerned the force would shatter the glass door itself. In stalked a darkly clad man, his back was turned to you as he quickly scanned the shelves and displays of your shop. He’d ignored the ‘closed’ sign. Still, one more customer couldn’t hurt. “Welcome,” you greeted warmly, feet aching as you walked back behind the counter. The customer gruffly rolled your word off.

The gloves on his hands didn’t have fingers and when he placed a small first aid kit and sandwich on the counter, you could see the beds of his nails were bleeding. However, when you saw his face, you realized his wounded fingers were not priority. A blistering red patch scored his cheek under his dark eyes. There was a fresh cut on his left cheekbone that matched his bust eyebrow and lip. At the state of his lip you quickly reached over to add a tube of chapstick to his order. “Don’t need it,” he grunted but made no move to put it back. “Its on me,” you explained, ringing him up, ignoring the roll of his eyes. Though his hoodie was pulled down, the sweaty strands of black hair were still visible, slightly blocking his vision. “Take care,” you offered him, placing the bag into his hand. The empty night was louder than him as he exited your store.

A month in and you’ve managed to perfect the flower-shaped croissants, exploiting the layers of dough and butter croissants naturally proved to achieve petal-like flares. Proudly, you arrange them on a baby blue decorative plate, fixing the eyebrow raising price tag in front of it. People would have to accept that baking was another type of art and that your croissants tasted as good as they look. Many customers have become regulars, your yellow post it note stuck on the cash register denotes what they usually get, just a courtesy. New people enter your store everyday, sometimes stopping to pose for pictures in front of the arguably aesthetic display case filled with your best work. A swell of pride always elates you and you remind them to tag the cafe in their social media posts.

Its because your shop has a softer, pretty theme that you’re surprised when you find yourself writing down what the bruised man from before would always order. Though you formally close at seven, you leave the light on as you close down for him because he usually enters at nine. At the end of every week, he replenishes his first aid kit, sporting nasty red, brown, and purple wounds on his face every day. His placement of the bandaids and salves are sloppy at best and as the daughter of a doctor, you can’t help but stop him before he disappears into the inky night once again. The accusative glare he shoots at you leaves you stuttering. “What do you want?” His words and tone almost have you denying that you even called him in the first place but you wonder why he’s always beat up and why he’s so cranky. “You’re not putting on the bandages correctly.” “What would you know about it?” “My dad was a doctor—here, just let me fix it for you.” You’re released from his heavy glare as he thinks over your proposal, eyes flitting around your shop before landing back on you. “Just make it quick.”

He’s never sat in one of your shop’s white chairs and he shifts on plush cushion, you across from him, preparing the first aid kit. No sound escapes him as he rips off his existing bandaids, though just watching him makes you want to wince. The used bandages are shoved into his pockets and he slouches in front of you. The wounds this time congregate around his jaw, a nasty blue-green bruise spreading from his chin to the end of his jaw. Cuts and rug burn-like patches are scattered around his face and you can’t picture what he’d look like without a black eye.

In the name of being prepared, you keep an extensive first aid kit under your counter. You gingerly smear the bruise with the respective salve before dousing the cuts with alcohol. All the while, the damaged man in front of you says nothing, but glares at you through his shaggy bangs. Though scared to anger him him, you softly push back his hair to reveal another bruise above his left eyebrow.

The tense silence tears at you and you blurt out, “Have you not met any left handed people? They’re always on your left side.”

“More like they haven’t met me.”

“You’re left handed?”

“Ambidextrous but they still never see it coming,” is his gruff reply.

Slowly, as you spread salve on his cuts you put two and two together. “You’re a fighter.”

“Boxer.” Though his uncomfortable silence had previously left you at a loss for words, you quickly get back into your old habits, “You’re a boxer? That’s why you’re always beat up. You must not be very good if you’re always getting hurt. Are you paid to fight other people or is it based on bets? You’re really young to be boxi—”

The coldness in his eyes as they snap up to you has your words choking in your throat. “I let my opponents have a semblance of victory before I beat them. Its based on bets so I get more profit if viewers place more bets against me.”

He rises and you follow him to the door. “I-if you…when you get injured, just come here. It’ll heal faster if I tend to it.”

A nod is all you get but its more than the silence you’ve been struck with by him before so you’re not complaining.

He holds you on your offer, coming in every night from nine to midnight. You don’t mind lingering at your shop longer because his scuffed boots find their way into your store every night. You learn that his name is Minho and that his boxing nickname is Lee Know. The air between you has melted from cold tension to quiet casualty. Though your heart clenches in wariness every time his battered face shows up, it also pangs in empathy for him. Empathy that he refuses to accept.

The glint in his eyes that he regards you with every night informs you that he scowls upon your empathy, the pout on your lips as you concentrate to clean his wounds and the worried laced in your voice as you ask him about his upcoming matches. “I’ve been preparing for the season to start. If it goes well, I can progress past my current bracket,” he explains and though his voice has been exclusively monotone, if you strain your ears hard enough, there’s a trace of hope and anticipation there.

“You haven’t been doing matches this entire time?” You exclaim, dumbfounded that this amount of damage has been from practices and preparation for the real thing.

For a passing second, everything in his demeanor except his voice calls you an idiot before he softens, realizing you know nothing about his underground life. “If we had matches all year, we’d kill each other in no time. No,” he laughs humorlessly, shaking his hair out. Its grown a bit longer than his eyes but you’ve secured it back, clearing his face up with a pink fluffy headband he scoffed at. “The lower division guys have up to 40 matches but the really good ones only have two or three.”

In the beginning of your late night first aid sessions, you’d timidly ask Minho small talk questions and he’d gruffly respond with a word or two, but never a full sentence. Now, you ask him because you’re genuinely curious about his profession. “How many do you have? Do you know who you’ll go against?”

“Twelve. Edging on the more professional bracket but still not there yet. Opponents are rolling; I don’t know until a few days before and even then, it’s not necessarily helpful. Just need to touch up on their weaknesses.”

“What’s your weakness?” You ask him, dabbing some burn salve on the glove burn stretching over his cheekbone. At the silence stretching across the two of you, you hope your tone came across as light and playful, not offensive. Though you were acquaintances with the boxer, you couldn’t yet bring yourself relax around his dark gaze.

“You’ll have to figure it out.” A giggle rises in your throat, maybe a nervous habit or maybe because you found him interesting.

An exhale eases out of your lungs as your legs give out, throwing yourself on your bed. The soft blue glow of your bedside lamp washes the room in a calming light but exhaustion refuses to let you bask in it. Soon, your eyelids are drooping and back is pressing into the sheets.

Danishes.

A harsh, ringing voice rips through your head; you bolt up, pulling your neck at the speed and abruptness. Gasping, you fling your shoes on, realizing that you left the dough proofing. If it were any other dough, you’d roll over and shrug off the loss of a batch, but this dough was made with premium French artisan flour that a kind customer had gifted you. Somehow, the panic in your throat wards off drowsiness and you speed down the empty streets. Bursting into your store, you rush to remove the dough from the bowl and knead them into small loaves.

Based on how the dough smells, you don’t believe it over proofed so the worry loosens your throat allowing you to inhale a yawn, sliding dough into the warm oven.

The chairs in your cafe are plush but nothing compared to your bed. It’s making you slowly regret coming back tonight.

A loud bang rings through the silent air and immediately fear grips your heart which is thrumming in your throat. Maybe its your drowsy state that has you flinging into panic at the noise. The rubber soles of your shoes slowly squeak over the tile as you move over to grab a knife you use to score the bread. Its size won’t scare anyone off, but its sharpness is one to be reckoned with. From your fuzzy, sleepy memory, the sound came from the small storage room so with white knuckles gripping the knife, you creep over. In your rush, had the door been carelessly left open? The storage room door is ajar but you can’t see anything inside. Relaxing the slightest bit, you nudge the door open slowly, entering on tip toe. Though dimly lit, you can see that the small room is empty and relief floods you, though not completely ridding you of the former panic—your heartbeat is still in your throat.

When you return to the main room with the counter, tables, and register, cold, blinding panic returns tenfold. There’s three dark figures in your shop, crouching next to the counter, quickly stuffing their bags with the money stashed away. In a flurry, you press your back to the storage room door, cursing yourself for leaving it in there and at the front door which you left wide open.

Your mind whirls, trembling with fear and apprehension. Where was your phone? You couldn’t possibly stop these men but would the cops come in time?

“What the fuck are you bastards?” A voice rings out. Harsh. Cold. You don’t dare turn the corner to look.

A muffled cry pierces the tense air, strained grunts, and sounds of impact following in succession. There’s a loud cracking sound and a wail that raises your goosebumps and you slink back further into the shadow, hoping that whatever is happening behind the wall will leave you alone. Breathy curses and threats are thrown before visceral, bodily squelches and groans silence them. Digging your fingernails into your palms to get your hands from shaking, you tremble in the corner, even after the sounds have been reduced to low, pained moans and a pair of footsteps. They wander around, heavy and assured before edging closer to where you’re hiding. You don’t dare breath, but you don’t think breath would come even if you asked it to.

“Y/n?” At the sound of your name, your eyes grow wide, though you’re still frozen in place. The footsteps round the corner and you’re met with scuffed black boots and ripped black jeans. Squeezing your eyes shut, your mind whirls as you remember staring at those boots, tending to wounds. His wounds.

When your eyes fly open again, he’s crouching in front of you, face significantly less wounded than you’ve seen it. The sound of your knife clattering on the tile startles you into flying into his arms. He makes uncomfortable, awkward noises above you, hands floating above your back as his butt smarts from the force you knocked him over with. “Did you beat them up?” You voice is shaking and you’re either on the verge of tears or already crying into his black hoodie, filling your mind with his deep sweaty musk, “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, its not that big of a deal though. Just call the police,” he pushes you off of him with surprising gentleness, seeing that his hands are stained with the blood of those three men. On his feet in a flash, he drops a bag onto your lap. “Here is your money.”

There’s no proper reason why your hand shoots out to pull him from leaving. Maybe it’s because the would be thieves are still laying in your store, maybe its because you want to keep inhaling the warm scent he exudes, maybe it’s because the thought of being without him tonight scares you. “The police won’t believe that I did this,” you whisper, hoping that that will ward off his need to leave. It’s impossible to interpret what the dark look in his eyes are—you can never seem to read his thoughts.

Only his verbal confirmation has relief flooding your chest, “Fine.”

After tying up the perpetrators, Minho settles half an arms distance away from you, a waft of his musk filling your nose as you think you hear the piercing screech of sirens. “Were you just gonna let them take your cash?”

You were wrong. His eyes can deliver something other than blank darkness: incredulous accusation. The disbelief and an audible scoff in his question has you curling up tighter, burning with the implications he poses. You’d let these men reap the fruits of your labor; you wouldn’t try to stop them.

“Y-yeah,” you attempt, trying to concoct a reasonable excuse that would get his disapproving stare from burning off the side of your face. “There were three of them, so of course I’d let them go.”

A scoff rips from his throat, clawing at the back of your neck. “This won’t do. You know,” he turns to you, one eyebrow raised, “this’ll just be the beginning. Are you gonna be prepared to defend this shop, bub?”

You bristle at his know-it-all attitude and the patronizing nickname, “Why do you care? And why were you even here this late at night?” The pale yellow suggestions of sun peak from the inky black sky as you’re reminded that you’ve gotten no sleep. Ignoring your questions, he rises, adjusting his jeans and walking over to the policemen now at the glass door of your cafe.

Even after the robbers were detained and police left, he remains, his dark scent permeating the air around you. “Listen,” he starts, hands shoved into his pockets and the regular scowl on his face, “I was just walking back from practice and saw them in here. And you need to get protection around here.”

“And how would you suggest that?” You throw back, fueled with remaining sass. A shrug. He turns away, walking to the door. Habit says he’ll ignore you, disappearing into the lightening city horizon, but he stops, hand resting on the glass door. You slap his hand off of it, but his hand’s grimy residue clouds a part of the door already.

His shoulders drop in annoyance before he grunts, “I could teach you how to defend yourself.” Mouth agape and eyes wide, you repeat his words, “You’d teach me how to defend myself? Isn’t your season starting up soon?”

His gaze drops, you think he’s taken aback at your remembering the dates of his season. “Coach doesn’t want me sparring. Get healed or some shit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m offering because it’ll be good for me to refresh on the basics and the next shop is twenty minutes away. I’ll be inconvenienced if this shop closes anytime soon.” The thought of Minho scowling down at you as a personal defense teacher scares you, but the vivid memory as you clutched the knife terrifies you.

“When are you free?”

“No, widen your feet; squat more, bub,” Minho lets out an exasperated sigh and slips behind you, hands on your hips to adjust your stance in front of the punching bag. The yellow lights overhead and the pale wash of moonlight are the only things illuminating your ‘self defense’ classes. With as much punching as you’re doing, you think it’s more of a boxing lesson than self defense.

“One.”

Your left glove strikes the bag.

“Two.”

Right hand.

Minho repeats these instructions, the two words seemingly molding together into a mash of sounds. As his cold voice continues to command you, the burning in your lungs intensifies and your thighs, arms, and stomach ache, screaming at you to stop. _Give up. _ A voice lures you, reminding you of how your knees shake and eyes sting from sweat. “I can’t,” you whimper, hands retracting as you meet Minho’s disapproving stare. It makes you avert your gaze, the burning in your cheeks from something other than physical exertion.

“I’m heading home then.” Scoffing, Minho slings his bag over his shoulder, nodding back to you, “see you tomorrow.”

Dejected, you fumble with the straps of the boxing gloves Minho gave you, unable to grasp them when both your hands are cocooned. The usual mocking sarcastic glint in Minho’s eyes were replaced with disappointment and his abrupt departure burns your chest. Maybe you should have pushed yourself more? Maybe he shouldn’t have.

“One, two. Don’t lean into it. One, two. Rotate your wrists. One, two. Guard your jaw, he’s gonna knock you out.

“Keep going, Y/n,” interrupts the usual ‘one, two’ and your teeth grit, pulling your elbows in and snapping your punches. Minho’s lips lift from the corner of your eye and this spurs you on, extracting energy from a place you didn’t know existed. Fueled with anger—anger at yourself for having given up last session, anger at Minho for pushing you—you pummel the punching bag, breathing harshly as the sound of slapping synthetic leather fills the musky room.

“Okay, break.” The ground collides with your body as your legs give out under you. Your breathing must have been uneven, because there’s white patches in front of your vision. After blinking them away, you’re met with Minho’s outstretched hand offering a water bottle. His face is turned away from you, but his cheeks rise, insinuating a smile. With a breathing ‘thanks’, you practically inhale the water.

“Slow down, bub. You’re gonna puke.”

Laying a hand over your spazzing heart, you give him the best glare you can muster, “No thanks to you, Lee Know.” He smirks at your use of his boxer nickname, sprawling on the ground next to you.

“Y’know,” you gasp in between breaths, “I don’t think this is self defense, this is just offense.”

Minho’s head tilts in acceptance, tongue poking out to swipe at his bottom lip. “No, what you’re doing is not boxing if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Oh yeah?” You tease, pulling a face at Minho, “I’m in boxing gloves, attacking a poor boxing bag.”

The veins in his forearms strain as he leans back onto his hands, “I could show you real boxing, bub. I have a match next week. I can get you in.” Your heart clenches at the thought of seeing the blood and gore you’ve seen on Minho’s face being made. He senses your uneasiness and leans forward, hand brushing over your knee almost…timidly? “You don’t have to come, but you can. I’ll text you the details,” he shrugs, “show up or don’t.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have worn a pastel purple skirt to a boxing match but it’s too late to turn around and change. At least you had the sense to wear safety shorts and sturdy combat boots. Yelling can be heard in the distance and while you’d usually flee from sounds like that, you find the GPS on your phone leading you right to it.

The barbaric shouts are deafening as you stand in front of a grey building. A man, who’s arms are the size of your shoulders guards the door. “You lost, little girl?” He asks gruffly, but he doesn’t seem sarcastic.

“I-I um,” you clear your throat, “Lee Know has a match here?” Your statement comes off more as a question and you wince at how weak your voice sounds.

The bearded guard nods, his black shirt straining as he crosses his tree trunk forearms in front of him. “So you’re the lady he’s been babbling on ‘bout.” A blue tattoo stretches on his forearm as he opens the door, a wave of stench, heat, and yells ramming into you. Thanking the man quietly, you slip through the door. It’s an arena, like a football stadium but scaled down significantly. Burly and wiry men alike fill the seats, howling like dogs. You pull your sweater closer to you and your skirt down. The lights and sounds whirl in front of you as you try to spot Minho in the crowd. Further up, closer to the boxing ring, there’s a familiar head of black hair and broad shoulders. You hope it’s him as you squeeze past the admittedly scary crowd of men.

Tapping his shoulder, you breathe in his musky scent. It almost cancels out the stale rotting stench around you. When he turns, his eyes are dangerous and dark—you almost stumble back—but when he sees you his eyebrows shoot up. “Didn’t think you’d come,” he shouts over the chaos, “here,” he pulls your shoulders into his chest, shielding you in his arms as he begins to weave through the crowd, “my match is in a little bit so I was gonna head to the back.”

The screams are muffled now as Minho closes the door to a small, empty room. He slouches on a chair, gesturing you to do the same. “It’s always so fucking chaotic out there. I can never focus before a match. I can never think,” he mutters, mostly to himself, so you freeze, not wishing to distract him, “My mind is always somewhere else and I can’t remember anything. It’s like nothing else but my nerves exist.”

Only after a beat of silence, after Minho turns his wide eyes up to look at you, do you realize he was talking to you. “But you’re so good. You’ve been training all year,” you blurt out, not pausing to think about your words, taken aback at how innocent and lost his eyes look, “isn’t it like muscle memory?”

He groans, you worry you’ve said the wrong thing, “Yeah, I know but it’s just so fucking frustrating, bub.”

Smiling widely, you tease him with a nudge on his shoulder, “You’re gonna be great. Plus, you’ll have me cheering you on.” Awkwardly, you make punching movements, “I’ll take your opponent down if you can’t.”

That’s the first time you hear Minho laugh. A genuine, hearty laugh. Not a scoff or a mocking tease. It’s warm and sweet and surprisingly high. His eyes crinkle, still smiling at you when he stands, “Okay sounds like a plan.”

Seeing the dark glare Minho holds his opponent with as they circle the ring, you understand why Minho sports the look so often. It takes you off guard; you feel like you haven’t seen these dark eyes in a while. A strong swallow of spit tightens your throat. You blink, his opponent strikes, mitt slapping against Minho’s blocking forearm. Gasping a breath, you freeze in apprehension as the crowd around you roars to life. The sharply muscled, bald man circling Minho does not lack in speed; the blurring blue of his mitt once again slams against Minho’s forearm. The bald man tenses, charging at Minho with a flurry of attacks. Desperation clenches your throat as you will Minho to do something. He ducks his head behind his forearms, abdomen clenching at every blow inflicted to him. Soon mutters calling Minho a ‘punching bag’ and a ‘free win’ crawl into your ears. Anger flares in your chest—you know how good Minho is at fighting. Why isn’t he doing anything? However, Minho’s wiry muscled, grey haired coach standing beside you is stoic, a stark contrast to the screaming audience, hurling saliva with every abusive word they target at Minho.

“Why isn’t he doing anything?” You whisper to yourself, too engrossed in the match to care about the raw vulnerability in your voice. The bald opponent retreats, panting as Minho continues to circle him.

Minho’s coach growls, a smirk breaking his expressionless wall, “It’s over now.” Wide eyed, you turn back to the match, taking in the sweaty, hunched—you’d daresay weary—shoulders of the bald man, heaving with pants. A relief spreads a smile across your face. Minho had been doing something. The red boulder of Minho’s mitt slams into the side of the man’s head, jerking his neck awkwardly, hurling him into stumbling, expression blank shock. An electric wave of excitement shoots through you. Minho is merciless, unwilling to let his staggering opponent recover, pummeling him with firmly resounding attacks. You recognize some basic moves he’s taught you, only now do you realize capabilities of those punches put into action.

The red of Minho’s mitt is soon darkened with the seeping blood of his opponent and the fickle crowd now screams Minho’s name, invigorating him, causing his blows to land harder, until the bald man is thrown onto the blood spattered floor. The referee slams the ground thrice and the crowd erupts into a cacophony of cheers and groans.

A satisfied smirk cuts across Minho’s barely harmed face as he unfurls his sweaty arms in victory, bathing in the cheers of those who bet on him and the cries of those who bet against him alike. His coach turns to you, a satisfied twist to his lips, a wad of cash already in his clutched, calloused hand, “This is why he wasn’t doing anything, sweetheart,” he says, shaking the money, “Minho’s a tough kid but he’s also a smart kid.” After a pause, his coach shifts, frowning in, “You’re the first person Minho’s brought to a match. Nobody else. Take care of him,” he warns.

Minho’s panting presence behind you raises goosebumps on your neck. You turn to see his glistening bare abdomen as he towels himself off with a sweat rag. Bruises bloom on his forearm and but he ignores them, receiving the majority of the cash from his coach.

“Let’s get out of here before some ass crack takes his faulty betting out on me,” he says, resting a hot hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the back exit, ignoring jeering crowd members. The empty night greets you and he nods to a black car, gruffly explaining, “You walked here, right bub?”

“Yes, also,” you gush, “that was pretty cool."

He looks away, deflecting with, “Yeah, get in.”

“Why do you do it?” You ask, strapping your seatbelt on and retrieving the makeshift first aid kit from your purse.

The car murmurs to life and Minho’s voice is surprisingly quiet and soft, “I got into a lot of fights up to high school so coach came up to me and asked me if I wanted to make it a profession,” a pause and Minho murmurs, “he took me in, taught me how to channel the joy I got from fighting. Turn it into something better. Focused.”

“He seems really proud of you,” you observe, leaning over to rub a salve onto his shallowly cut lip. “You should put on more chapstick, Minho. Where’s the one I gave you?”

Under flash of passing yellow streetlights, you can almost make out a dusting of pink on Minho’s cheeks. “I lost it,” he admits, tilting his head slightly to give you better access to his lip.

Sighing, you settle back onto the carseat. “I can take better care of you when we get there.” Minho’s eyes are wide, looking back from the road to you, “Where?”

A clench of nervousness holds your gut, but you shrug, “Yours, mine, I don’t care.”

It’s Minho’s turn to be flustered; he nods quickly.

Minho’s apartment is bare, only cluttered with various trophies and medals, a ground table, a tv, and a small couch. You set down his bag, you insisted you carried it and Minho opens a cabinet, retrieving the first aid kit. He settles on the couch, legs crossed tightly underneath him. For some reason, its stupidly endearing. The alcohol on his cut stings and Minho’s eyebrow furrows in pain. “Y’know, you don’t have to be tough around me, Minho.”

His eyes are blank, “What do you mean?”

“You barely let yourself feel pain, you’re always glaring at something, and you never open up about anything. You don’t have to be like that around me, Minho.”

An eyebrow lifts and he tilts his head to the side slightly, “I told you about coach,” he offers.

You nod slowly, “Yeah, that’s true. I guess, I just like seeing you smile,” you shrug, “that’s all.”

Suddenly bashful, Minho looks down, biting his lip to repress a smile.

“That’s what I mean!” You exclaim, placing your hands on his cheeks to cradle his face, forcing him to look up at you, your heart in your throat. He groans, an endeared smile finally breaking out, “Quit being so fucking cute and maybe I could think enough to talk properly to you, bub.”

Burning excitement fills your chest and you pose with a peace sign, “You think I’m cute?”

An exasperated roll of his eyes is all the answer you need. “Well,” you say, patting his head, “you’re very cute too.”

This time, his scoff is soft, “I’m a boxer.”

You press a bandaid over his cut, “Yes, a very adorable boxer who needs to smile more.” He breaks out into laughs, filling you with bubbly warmth, gazing down at you with eyes that are anything but dark and dangerous. It’s warm and tender. He is. Sobering up, Minho tilts his head slightly, his eyes traveling down to your lips.

Anticipation fills your chest and your mind whirls, not knowing what to do so you blurt out, “Oh yeah! Chapstick,” leaning over, you retrieve a tube, “Here.” Minho, however is unfazed by your awkwardness and cocks an eyebrow, suddenly confident, nodding to the chapstick, “Put it on for me.”

Its your turn to blush, but you do still, not realizing that this isn’t clear chapstick. Its only when you pull away do you realize his lips are painted a pretty shade of pink. Clapping in joy you shove your phone camera in his face. “You’re so pretty!”

Stuttering in surprise, his eyes bug out but he doesn’t make any move to wipe it off, “The fuck?”

“So pretty!” You exclaim, holding his face to put more on, laughing at his shocked expression. Minho pulls back, tumbling you with him until you’re staring down and all your laughter has been swallowed. Silently, his hand travels up to the back of your head, gently pulling you towards his freshly moisturized lips. Smiling because of nerves, you don’t need his hand to guide you.

His lips are surprisingly soft but perfectly sticky with your pink chapstick. Almost timidly, his tongue caresses your bottom lip and you whimper as he eases your lips apart. Saliva gathers at the corners of your mouth and your arm cramps from holding yourself up over him but he’s so gentle and careful with the kiss you don’t want to stop. Your arm gives out and you press against Minho, snaking your fingers into his slightly sweaty hair. Panting, Minho pulls back as he gazes up at you, his eyes wide and sparkling. “I don’t want to go too fast, Y/n,” he whispers, thumb gently caressing your cheekbone.

Brazen with unfound confidence, you pout at him, “No. Be mine now.” Minho smirks, laughing softly as his eyes crinkle up, “Okay, okay,” he reassures you, pulling you down to lay on his chest, “I’ll be yours.”

“Don’t you dare do that, Y/n. I’ll sue you,” Minho threatens, eyes wide but voice joking.

Giggling, you ignore him, continuing to create a new dessert of your own design called the ‘Minho Mochi’. It’s a soft peach mochi covered with waffle cone. “No, I take inspiration from you and plus,” you mention, “you said yourself that the juxtaposition of the soft sweet mochi and the shell of the waffle cone was good.”

“Yeah,” he groans, plucking a mochi ball from the counter and popping into his mouth, “but that was before you decided to use my name for it, bub.”

Reaching up to clean the potato starch residue on his lip you correct, “I made the mochi with you in mind first, not the other way around.” Minho mumbles half heartedly, turning away to smile but you tug his arm. He’s blushing and grinning softly; your heart clenches in adoration.

“I can make you one for every match you have, would that make you feel better?”

Minho laughs, bringing your potato starch and rice flour covered hand to nuzzle his cheek, “Fine, I guess this is what I get for having girlfriend that owns a purple bakery.”

“Hey!” You deny, pulling back, “This is lavender, not just purple.”

“Yes, yes,” he agrees quickly, tugging you into him. “I’m covered in flour,” you protest into his chest, his deep musk a relieving break from the sweet scent of mochi. You feel him press kisses to the top of your head as his arms tighten around you so you relax into him, circling his waist with your arms.

“You should really decorate this place, Min,” you comment, gesturing at his bare apartment. You’re comfortably draped across his shoulders from the couch as he sits on the floor. He looks back from the TV, eyes wide and a puppy-like pout graces his now well moisturized lips, “What do you mean? I have my trophies as decoration.”

Groaning you protest, “No, those are trophies. You need proper deco here, it’s just sad.”

A familiar, flirty smile spreads across his face and he winks at you, “You’re prettier than any other decorations I can get.”

Though you feel your face burning, you roll your eyes at him, trying to suppress the smile bubbling in your chest. He gets up to sit next to you on the couch. Still smiling, he pats his lap, making your stomach jump in excitement. Settling down on his thighs, you play with the collar of his shirt, avoiding his stare. He ducks his head, forcing you to look at him. “Why you shy, bub?”

“I really love you, Min.”

His eyes are soft and you don’t expect him to say it back. You’re just content that he knows.

“I love you too, bub.”

You’re at Minho’s apartment basically every day for the past year and today’s no different. The soft beating of his heart resounds in your ear while the other listens to the calming voice of the audio book you guys are working through. The plot follows a personified kitten who tries to find her place in the world that is too cruel for her. Despite the objectively morbid theme, this part of the story is hopeful—the kitten has found friends and feels at home.

When the narrator concludes the end of the chapter, Minho reaches over to turn the recording off. You take the opportunity to crane your neck up and plant a kiss on his lips. He smiles softly, grabbing your waist so that you’re straddling his hips. One hand travels up to gently tug on your chin, deepening the kiss. His tongue is hot and lavishes against yours, a juxtaposition between his hand, methodically stroking your hair. Your fingers dance across his face, stroking his cheekbones, tracing his jawline and neck.

Soon, your fingers are replaced by your mouth and Minho’s Adam’s apple bobs with the groan he lets out. The fire in your chest and the beginning aching in your core has you tugging at the hem of his soft black tee shirt. His breath is shaky on your cheek as you pull the shirt over his head, softly dropping it next to the bed. Sitting back on his hips, you gaze down at his bare chest, wonder and admiration filling your heart as your hands travel across his toned torso. The lightest breeze of pink blush blows across his cheeks so you lean down to reattach your open mouth to his. The whirling in your mind rids your thoughts of everything except how he feels under you. His wet lips against yours, rising of his chest against yours, his hips pressing against yours.

So his tense voice catches you off guard, “Y/n, are you sure?” He’s pulled back and his eyebrows are furrowed softly, his pretty lips red and swollen but glossy with your spit.

Your gaze drops, hands fumbling to play with his hair. “I want to but if you wanna still take it slow, I’m fine wit—”

“I want you too, Y/n,” he whispers. Hungrily, he pulls off your shirt, sitting up to cradle you in his arms as he nuzzles your breasts, pressing hot kisses against your skin. Sighing contently, you unclip your bra and try not to blush at the dumb, awestruck look on Minho’s face. His rough hands come up to gently fondle them and you press kisses to his forehead and cheeks.

“You’re beautiful, Y/n,” he breathes, his hands firm against your bare waist as he gingerly turns you over so your back is pressed against the cool sheets. “We can take it slow.” Nervousness tightens your stomach and you’re sure he can feel the thrumming of your pulse as he slowly drags down your pants, maintaining eye contact. An endearing toothy smile spreads across his face and he hides it by kissing your tummy, trailing down to your pantie covered core. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable or wanna stop, okay?”

You smile softly, “Okay, you too.” Minho nods, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, Y/n,” he murmurs, reaching to tug off your underwear. Being completely bare underneath someone would make anyone ashamed or uncomfortable and your face burns as his glossy eyes take your most vulnerable state in. His lips are parted slightly and the soft glow of the lamp casts shadows of his eyelashes onto his red cheeks. A harsh swallow has his Adam’s apple bobbing. “God, you’re dripping, Y/n” He whispers, eyes shining, “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, Minho,” you confirm. He slides his finger into your hot, aching core, his lip caught in his teeth as he watches his digit being sucked in. Slowly, Minho pushes his finger deeper into you, gaze dancing from your face to your core.

“M-more please,” you whimper, consumed by the unfamiliar feeling of your velvety walls around something. When he adds another finger deep inside you, you gasp, a hand traveling down to clutch his free one. His thumb strokes the back of your hand as his other continues, scissoring into you as wet sounds fill his bedroom. When his fingers curl up, hot white pleasure shoots through you and Minho smiles proudly, working at that spot.

“H-holy fuck,” you moan, head rolling from shoulder to shoulder at the unfamiliar pleasure.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you curse, bub,” Minho muses, releasing your hand to push himself up the bed so that your faces are close together.

“I-its because of you, Minho.”

That triggers something in him and his eyes turn dark, but rather than scaring you, it makes the coil in the pit of your stomach tighten. When Minho removes his fingers from you, it unwinds slowly but clenches at the sight of his now solid length being pulled out of his sweats. His eyelashes flutter closed on his cheeks as he strokes himself with his fingers, still slick from your juices as he retrieves a condom from the bedstand and rolls it on, hissing at the friction. “Are you ready, Y/n?” He pants softly, eyes hooded as he stares down at you, hand still moving up and down his red glistening cock in a way that has your pussy throbbing and mouth salivating. You respond by hooking your legs around his hips, smiling as he leans down to kiss your lips softly. His tip pokes at your hot core and you sling your arms around his shoulders.

Minho’s eyes are piercing as he gazes darkly at you, searching for the slightest trace of hesitance on your part. Painstakingly slowly, he slides into you. Maybe the foreplay did help to prepare you, but the stretch has tears pooling at the corners of your eyes and he’s not even all the way in you. Shakily, Minho exhales, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to hold back from pistoning into you. His lips press into the tears forming and spilling over at your eyes and he nuzzles your cheek with his nose softly, staying still until you reassure him, “Okay, you can keep going.”

His teeth and tongue travel over your neck as he fully enters you, but his soft hiss has you unintentionally tightening around him. “Ah, Y/n don’t,” he groans, lifting his head from looking at the place you two are connected at to to smile at you. “Can I start?”

You nod, hooking your ankles around his hips, “Yeah, just go slow for now.” Minho starts thrusting deep into you, angling his hips and going slow enough to feel the drag of your soaking walls rub against his throbbing cock. “You feel so good,” he moans, reaching to hold your hand as his hips continue to rock against you.

“I-I feel so full,” you whisper, squeezing his hand and he smiles softly at you, eyes crinkling up. “C-can you go faster?”

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips and he snaps his hips into yours, groaning. The lustful and loving sounds of skin slapping resounds in the room, mixing with both of your moans to create a beautiful sound you tuck away in your mind. Minho pulls out till the tip before slamming into you, sweat forming at his forehead. With his free hand, Minho reaches down to rub your clit in tempo with his powerful thrusts. Moaning loudly, you whimper, “P-please, Min I-I think I’m gonna,” your words get swallowed by another moan when Minho’s hips increase their pace, his stamina through the roof.

“Me too, Y/n,” he pants, “Cum for me.”

The hot coil tightens and you squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed at the sensation until white, electric pleasure crashes through you and you release around Minho’s length. He moans loudly, quickly chasing his high. His face twists in pleasure as he reaches his high and your fuzzy brain is left awestruck at his beauty. Minho collapses next to you, removing the condom, chest heaving in deep pants as he stares into your eyes, smiling like an idiot.

“How was that, Y/n?” He asks, arms circling your shoulder, pulling you close.

You giggle into his chest, fingers tracing imaginary doodles, “That was fucking crazy, Min.”

Minho’s chest bubbles with laughter and he boops your nose, scrunching his own nose up, “That’s great cause I was kinda worried about giving you a bad experience and all.”

Looking up and tapping your chin with a finger in mock thinking you smile, “I loved it, but I want you to call me cute names, Min.”

“I call you bub. But you mean like princess? Babygirl?” he says, an eyebrow raised.

You roll your eyes, “Bub is not a cute name but yes, the others are okay.” “Okay,” Minho laughs, gently rubbing his nose against yours, “You’re my princess, you’re my babygirl, and you’re always my bub.”

Minho shuffles in the sheets, turning to face you, an excited smile on his face, “Just move in with me. You’re already here more than your own place and it’s unsafe there.” Still after loving him for so long, your stomach churns with nervousness, but you laugh softly, scooting closer so that you can bury your nose into his bare chest to breathe his scent in deeply. “This apartment building is safer than mine?” His arms find their way around you and he hold you close, his chest rumbling against your face with every word, “It’s safer because I’m here.” Laughing you pull back, supporting your weight with one arm as you gaze down at him. He lifts an eyebrow, stretching his arms towards you and you can’t help but collapse into them. “Okay, I’ll move in with you.”

A shining smile breaks out across Minho’s face and he nuzzles his nose into your hair softly, gently stroking your bare back.

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delu-jean · 3 years ago

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐁𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭

(Jean x fem!/reader) -> Angst -> 5.3k

Notes: By far the most enjoyable chapter I’ve wrote (and teared up qwq) for this series. Hope you guys like it as much as I did! ^^

Ⅶ > Ⅸ

That night, both you and the man had sat there for a little longer. Silence got the best of you along with him. Though you should have felt tense, the longer you sat, the more you enjoyed it. However, eventually, all good things came to an end. You reckoned how late it was getting, and he offered to walk you home.

Though you denied at first, he insisted saying: “that a gentleman should always walk a lady to her front door.” So he did. He ended up bringing you home, and helped you up the steps (still worried about your condition).

Before he left, he then looked at you and smiled. You did the same to then notice his jacket was still laced on your shoulders.

“Mr...Mr. Philosopher,” though you felt idiotic saying such a name, what else could you call him?

“Yes?” he chuckled at the label.

“What about your coat? I can’t guarantee I’ll see you again. Plus, I am home...meaning I won’t need it.”

Though he looked a little disappointed (since his attempt at chivalry didn’t go the way he planned), he then thought of something. He grabbed his jacket from you, and instead placed his hat on both of your palms. You were confused to say the least, but he then explained:

“I can guarantee that we will meet again. You’ll return my hat when we do, and don’t worry, I won’t make you wait for too long.”

“And you better not either,” he smirked as you shook your head.

“Haha alright then. Have a goodnight, and get home safely.”

“I will. Sleep well and...have good dreams.”

“You too,” you whispered to then close the door.

---

“Y/n dear, you can’t be going out with someone like that at such late hours,” you paused while eating your breakfast, wondering why she would say such a thing.

“You don’t think I know? It already spiraled through the ladies that you met with someone a few nights ago. Though that was the case, the way it was told made it sound like you two were both friends.”

“Regardless, you need to be more careful with what you do,” your mother scolded as you sipped your tea.

“Yes mother...don’t worry too much about me.”

“Who was your friend Y/n? Have we met him before?” your father asked as you shook your head.

“No, you haven’t...so don’t think too hard about who he is,” you chuckled as the two sighed, concerned.

“Anyways, I need to go now. I’ll see you both later.”

You kissed your father’s cheek, slipped on your coat, and then grabbed a basket. Your father seemed worried for you, but couldn’t help but give in. After all, you were his little girl. Your mother shook her head also feeling the same. You knew they both just wanted the best, but you also knew what was best for you.

That being the case, you walked out of your house, and made your way to Gabi’s place.

---

“Oh hello Y/n.”

“Hello Mrs. Braun, lovely seeing you.”

“Same as well. Gabi should be down in a few minutes-”

“I’m already here!! Y/n, I’m ready when you are,” she muffled while eating a slice of toast.

“Don’t worry too much about me Gabi. You should finish eating if anything,” you chuckled as she seemed determined.

“No! I’m fine, we should get going now. See you later mom!”

“Bye Gabi and Y/n! Be safe you two,” you both nodded as you then started to walk away.

---

“Oh Y/n, I forgot to mention that Reiner might pop up sometime today. Mom told me to tell you in the morning,” she said while walking beside you.

“Sounds good. I’m free all day, so we can do whatever you want to do.”

That being the case, you both strolled through town for a while. You wanted to make sure that you were able to spend as much time as you could with Gabi. Your schedules barely aligned, and because of that, you chose to take advantage of the day ahead of you. You both bought snacks, and fruits to fill your basket with. Then, you both put things together in a field.

After laying down the cloth, and setting up your display, you then slipped your coat off. Reason being, you were going to train sooner than later, so better to get it out of the way. You put it to the side and said:

“So, what do you want to start of with-”’

“Y/n...I’m sorry,” you were shocked to say the least.

“For what?” you then kneeled to her level.

“For being so...so burdensome, you know? You seemed to have a lot on your mind as of recently, and all I’ve done is bother you...Falco talked some sense into me the other day, and I felt really bad...sorry.”

Gabi was someone who had trouble when trying to convey her feelings. That being the case, she started to cry. Both upset at herself, yet sorrowful towards you. She truly was a child, and you would never blame her for such a thing.

“Gabi, I get why you feel that way, but don’t worry too much about it. Yes, it’s true that a lot has been on my mind, but ultimately, I’m always open to helping you with something I’m capable of. Never hesitate to ask because...you might just regret it one day.”

“Okay Y/n.” she then jumped into your torso, and initiated a hug. You both rolled on the ground laughing, to then wince at the pain in your stomach. It healed quite a bit, but you still felt sore at times.

“Are you?-”

“I’m fine, no need to worry.”

To prove you were, you quickly grabbed her by her ankle while standing. She was now head down, and legs up. You giggled for her to then swing, and grab your leg, ready to slam it whenever her body commanded. You then gave in and gently let her down. You didn’t need to break your back, and plus, your stomach couldn’t afford another hard blow. She smirked, and you both then went on to train for a while.

---

Next thing you knew, it was lunch time. Reiner had just dropped by as you two pulled out your meal. Gabi waved to get his attention, and he did the same while walking towards you. You smiled and Gabi sprang up, thrilled to see him.

“Reiner! You’re just in time!” She said as he nodded.

“Yeah...I actually got off early for once.”

“Luckily, you’re just in time for lunch,” you said.

“Sounds great, I haven’t eaten yet.”

“Y/n! Y/n! Did you bring pancakes this time!?” Gabi asked as you then pulled a cloth, revealing the dessert.

Though these ones were fluffier, had toppings, and whipped cream, it still reminded you of that one time you made them...which made you smile an ounce. Both were ecstatic to see them, and even tried diving in. You laughed and pulled them away, exclaiming:

“Not now! We need to eat lunch first, then we can have them after,” they both sighed as you grabbed the sandwiches.

The three of you sat and ate those sandwiches, along with all different kinds of fruits Gabi picked out. After that, you then allowed them to enjoy the pancakes, which they were very grateful for. To your surprise, after you all finished, Reiner then pulled out something in two separate boxes. One each for the two of you.

“I found them on my way here. They looked matching and I thought they’d suit you,” he said while drinking his iced tea.

They were two charm bracelets. Your’s with a f/c accent, and gabi’s with an emerald like tint. You both adored the gifts as you stared at them in awe. You watched as Gabi struggled to put her’s on, which made you laugh. You then helped her out and connected the two ends together. Needless to say, she seemed upset that you had both put it on for her, and that thought it was funny.

Unfortunately, to your surprise, you also found yourself in a similar position. It really was hard to put on. Gabi then found herself laughing at you, as you shook your head in disappointment. Reiner then held your wrist, and clasped the two ends, making them connect.

“Here. Did I pinch you?”

“No, you didn’t. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Oooo Reiner helping Y/n out? Hehe,” the both of you rolled your eyes.

“It’s not like that,” he said.

“Yeah...it’s really not.”

“Dang...but I want you to be my cousin...ah good try,” she muttered to herself.

“Wait Reiner, did you get one for yourself?”

“I didn’t Gabi, why?-”

“We should get you one!” she exclaimed.

“I’m not sure...jewelry isn’t much of an appeal in my opinion.”

“I agree with Gabi. I’ll buy it for you,” you then stared at him optimistically, along with Gabi. He then sighed in defeat, following with:

“Only after I get a good spar with the both of you,” he then stood up, and looked at you.

You nodded to then stand as well. You got in a ready position, and he did the same. Though you thought he would engage, he instead waited for you to do so. You did as he wanted and ran straight towards him. Since Reiner had always been weak in the knees, you tried to kick him there. Though you attempted, he was just much bigger, and faster than you.

He was able to doge your attack, and while your body was in the kicking motion, grabbed your torso, to then fling you onto his shoulder. You struggled as he held onto both your upper, and lower body. Trapping you to your misfortune.

“Haha, I won,” he smirked and you groaned.

“No fair...you didn’t even let me-”

“It’s going to take a while before you beat the likes of me,” you then tried to squiggle your way out, but stopped as he then let you down.

“Damn...I’ll be sure to get you next time,” you smiled determinedly.

“Heheh, we’ll see.”

“Anyways, we can go a little later into the day. I actually invited everyone else to meet up with us, so we’ll have more company,” Reiner stated. Both you and Gabi agreed to then start training with Reiner.

---

During the evening, the three of you travelled to town. There, you met almost everyone. They either were done with their responsibilities, or also had the day off. Porco, Zeke, Pieck, Colt, and Falco showed, and you all greeted them with a wave.

“Zeke, it’s been a while,” he opened his arms and you hugged him. If anything, now that time had passed, he probably came second when being your older brother (since Berthold came first).

“Yeah, it has been. How’s your stomach by the way? Reiner told us about it,” Pieck would then intervene.

“Yeah he did. I brought some ointment just in case.”

“Yeah...you okay?” Proco asked and you’d nod.

“I’m fine haha, always making thingd seem over dramatic.”

“I was just worried is all,” Reiner would defend as the others chortled.

“Yeah yeah, wish you’d worry more about Porco like that,” Zeke would tease as Porco scoffed.

“Guys! Let’s go around to the cafes! I’m in the mood for some cake!”

“You know what, yeah, we should!” for once, Falco actually agreed with Gabi. Which you found quite funny as Colt tried to calm down the two.

“Guys guys, maybe not today.”

“Don’t worry about it Colt. It is our night off, so we should make the best of it,``” Pieck assured as the boy gave in.

“If that’s the case, let’s go all on out!”

“Hey now, don’t get too excited Colt. Afterall, you might be paying for us,” Zeke joked as Colt blushed embarrassed.

“Don’t listen to Zeke...now let’s go have some fun!” Porco would remark as the rest of you agreed.

You all browsed around with each other. Gabi and Falco were able to get the cupcakes they wanted, and colt, some apple pie. Zeke had gotten a cinnamon bun, while the rest of you spent your money elsewhere. Pieck had bought all Riner, Zeke, and Porco ties, while you bought the two younger boys their own things.

Colt a watch, and Falco an encrusted journal. Though both had insisted on you not doing so, you couldn’t help but do it. You already treated Gabi along with Reiner, so it only felt right to. Both were thankful to say the least, and the others were joyful while cruising around. You continued to stroll to then hear Gabi call for you.

“Y/N! Y/N!” she grabbed your arm dragging you towards a stall. You swore you saw someone watch the both of you, but ignored it as she then spoke.

“I found the bracelets! You can finally get one for Reiner now!”

“Oh yeah, I totally forgot about that. What colour should we get?”

“Hm,” Gabi then looked at the variety. She seemed to have thought for a while, to then spew:

“I think we should get the black.”

“Why is that?”

“I feel like black is a neutral colour. Plus, it kind of describes Reiner. Mysterious yet respected, you know?”

“I guess so,” the merchant passed you a nice box with the bracelet in it. You then paid, and thought about her statement. She wasn’t wrong about Reiner, but you wondered what convinced her into thinking that way. In your perspective, he’s always been someone she looked up to, and yet, here she was displaying him in such a light.

Though it didn’t bother you much, you wondered what she had caught onto. Before you could think even more, Zeke then called out to the both of you.

“Let’s go to the beach. The moon’s out, so it’ll look nice.”

“Plus, we could all take a dip, eh?”

“Sure, let’s go.”

---

Everyone splashed around for a little bit. The moon peered over all of you, as the stars flowed in the skies above. The sight of all of your friends was a great one to see. They all seemed so happy. Falco splashed some water onto your clothes. He apologized almost immediately, but you reassured that things were fine. After all, you felt like you needed a break from so much horse play.

You then walked back to the sand, and sat there. Though soon enough, you realized your clothes were full of wet sand. Even so, you could have cared less. You were then joined by Pieck. She sat beside you only to have the same problem.

“Oh dear.”

“Haha yeah...I should’ve warned you in advance.”

“No, it's fine. It’s good to dip into the sand like this every now and then.”

“Mhm…”

“Y/n...do you mind if I ask you about something? If the topic isn’t to your liking, we can change it.”

“Of course Pieck, go on.”

“I heard about the idea of your proposal...have you made a decision?” you felt as if that was all you were asked. The engagement and the future those wanted for you. Though Pieck and some others wanted to know for your well being, it started to annoy you. You felt as if things were pent up inside, but you continuously chose to ignore them. This being just another example.

“*sigh* I think so...I mean, I probably will.”

Pieck saw the uncertainty written all over you. Though she knew something was wrong, she didn’t question. She was someone who would rather observe then get involved (unless needed). Though she didn’t want to interfere and attack you with questions, she instead decided to give you her opinion. Hoping her less suppressive way of communication could help a bit.

“Well, I’m sure many have told you this...but pick what you want. I know it’s not simple, but what I also know is that I never want to see that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“When I grabbed you from that Island,” she then stared at the stars above, putting her hands behind her, trying to relax. She tried to prepare herself with what she was going to say next, along with you.

“Your face...it looked so...so torn. Even though I didn’t know for what reason, you looked...so hurt. It broke my heart seeing you like that, and if something like this...is going to trigger that same reaction...don’t do it...okay? The Eldians don’t need such an event to excite them, they just need you to continue to be the leader you are.”

You were surprised at her answer. Needless to say, you then said:

“Wow...you figured out my intentions so easily.”

“I know you in and out Y/n,” she grinded and you as well.

You both watched as Reiner came over. He seemed exhausted from playing with the others. Though he felt that way, the other five were enthusiastic while chicken fighting. Pieck took notice, and knew it was cue for her to leave. Though you didn’t say anything, she got up, and walked past Reiner. You were thankful (yet baffled) by her words, and then watched as the man sat beside you.

“What was that all about?”

“Nothing,” you then gestured for him to sit closer. He did so, and you grabbed the box from earlier. Though you had tried to make the exchange quick, Proco and Gabi made that an obstacle for you.

“Is that Y/n proposing?” he gasped dramatically.

“NO WAY! SHE’S GOING TO BE MY COUSIN!?”

You both then sighed leading you to stand up. He did the same, and followed you to the other side of the beach. Though you loved the two, in your opinion...this wasn’t the time for any tomfoolery. You weren’t sure as to what was yet to come...but your gut said something serious. You then laid your jacket and set up “camp” on the side you were on. You were thankful for the privacy, and opened the box yet again.

“Gabi picked this out for you,” he then opened it.

“I forgot about that...you didn’t have to-”

“But I did. For both Gabi and I. Here, let me help you,” you then placed the bracelet on his wrist, and hooked the two ends together.

He looked at you for a moment, though thankful for your gesture, he was more curious as to why you both were alone. All you needed to do was exchange the gift...that being the case, why were you so far from the others.

“So, I’m assuming we moved for more than a mere jewelry exchange”

Like said before...you weren’t even sure yourself.

“Nah, I just...didn’t want the others to tease,” you said while you stared at the ocean.

Though you never wanted to think about Paradis (intentionally)...tonight...tonight felt different. While staring at the body of water, you thought about how the place was just on the other side. Once considered enemies, friends...and now...you didn’t even know. You tried avoiding so many things. Those thoughts just being a small portion. It felt as if you were penting in so many feelings, but couldn’t let them out...alone at least.

You wondered if that was the reason why you brought Reiner here. So far from the others, yet so close to you. Though you weren’t sure if you were going to vent, knowing you both shared the same pain...gave you some type of comfort. You always knew that there was one significant thing connecting the two of you, and that was the burden of your memories. The guilt of coming back, and the blood you both shed, laid on your hands. Though it sounded selfish to use each other as a way to cope...what else could you do?

Though you hated it, it felt like the only thing that made sense. Friends with a guilt who would die with it...embedded in their hearts. Though not the most romantic trope, it was the most realistic one...the one thing you constantly found yourself facing...reality. Something you despised and yet, could not ignore. There was no escaping it, and even Reiner knew. You were glad you weren’t alone during all of this. Though a somewhat torn friendship which had both fake, yet genuine smiles, it was one that was beautifully made between the two of you.

He would say the same as he gazed at your palm which caressed the sand. It’s almost as if he could read your mind as he skipped a pebble into the water.

“You’re thinking of Paradis aren’t you?...” no more denial...today was the day you wanted to be honest with him, and yourself.

“Yeah…”

“Ah...I see,” he then shifted his gaze towards you. The saddened yet hurt look on your face, though he could relate to, made him feel ever so sorry towards you. If he hadn’t messed things up, you wouldn’t have ended up where you were now...though he felt this way, he sighed and said:

“You know what, let’s be honest with each other Y/n. It seems as if we could...both use it.”

“Yes...of course,” you nodded in agreement.

“We haven’t talked about it ever since our return, and I think...ah...we could use this time to do so. So ask me anything...I’ll answer honestly...that way, we can both get rid of any suppressed iniquity.”

You watched as he put a hand to his heart. Though you found it to be out of the blue, you took it in as a note of sincerity. Knowing how much that place traumatized him, seeing the salute, put you at ease as you sunk into your thoughts.

“Okay...first of all, how’s your sleep going? Are the nightmares as bad as I think they are?” Though shocked at your question (expecting it to be more interrogative), he answered wholeheartedly.

“They are pretty bad...to the point I force myself to stay awake at times. But they aren’t unbearable, so to answer your question, I’ve been doing fine.”

“I see,” You then decided that you would ask him things that you were actually curious about. Both at the island, and in present time. He said he would be honest, and you trusted that.

“Why did the three of you leave me out of things? I know it wasn’t out of pure burden, so I’d like an actual reason, Reiner.”

“Ahh, I had a feeling this would be a question,” he then readjusted himself.

“You know, it being a burden to you was partially part of the reason...but I wouldn’t say the main motive. At the time, being as delusional as I was, I only believed that the mission to Paradis was one for the warriors. The warriors only. Since you weren’t one, I saw it to be burdensome on both sides. You being a disadvantage to us, and us being one to you. That being the case, the three of us had meetings without you, and if we did tell you anything, it was either misleading, or a fraction of our actual plan.”

“Hm, makes sense,” you said bluntly to then ask the next question.

“My third question is, why did you leave me out of the plan for Trost? I feel as if that specific expedition had more to it then the reasoning you just gave. As if there were other motives...during that event specifically.”

This had to do with the fact Berthold had warned you ahead of time. Though you hated the idea of your predictions being correct, this was your time to get an answer. He then looked at you shocked, and understood that you must’ve caught on. He proceeded to ask:

“What makes you say that?...”

“A few days prior, Berthold had warned me about staying alert...and alive. After watching the colossal, and seeing how the three of you responded to my questions...I only assumed the worst.”

Reiner sighed and you could hear the guilt in his voice. Though this was the case, he knew he would have to atone one day for his wrong doing...and coming clean, though made him seem awful...was the only way to do things.

“Whatever you had assumed...you were probably right. I honestly thought you were going to die during that mission. You were just...so strong, yet so weak at the same time. Seeing that one flaw, I had basically planned for you to do so. Though I had no direct strategy, I assumed that if you stayed alone like you usually did, that you would pass (“pass” meaning: “pass away).

We would both get you out of our way, and simply tell your family that you had died “honorably” for the sake of Marely. Though we never got to since only I (out of the three) came back, and well...so did you.”

You felt sickened to say the least. To see how viscous they were, and how they would’ve easily come back to spout lies to your family. That disgusted you in every way possible. To dispose of your life so that they could save theirs? Though yours didn’t mean much to Marely, you knew it did to them...and to hear Reiner actually admit with such words...hurt a lot. It saddened you to see just how much Marely had conditioned the three...along with yourself.

Though that was the case, you still needed to understand more...more as to why things were done the way they were. So you responded to Reiner, and he listened.

“I had assumed so...since Berthold came with such a worried expression...and that would be the only logical reason for your planning,” though you thought he had finished, he continued to say:

“That being the case, it was obvious for us to not say anything to you...though Berthold had thought differently. Honestly...I’m glad he did, or you wouldn’t be here today.”

“Mhm...wait, now that I think of it, what happened to him? I know he didn’t come back, but do you think they actually...k-killed him?” you choked on your words, hoping that it wasn’t true.

“I...I don’t know. I was unconscious the entire time in shiganshina, and Zeke didn’t seem to have any idea either.

‘Shiganshina? Wait...wait does that mean?’

“I wouldn’t doubt it though...especially with after all we’ve done-” before he could say anything else, you then cut him off.

“Reiner, where was Jean? Was he alive? Please tell me he was alive,” panic filled the brim of your eyes as he tried to calm you down.

“Last time I recall, he was. I’m pretty sure he actually attacked me, along with the rest of our comrades. So yes...he was alive.”

Relief then piled on top of you. You were glad that he lived till that day. Though you weren’t sure whether he died or not (which added even more guilt to your conscience), knowing that his heart pumped in the midst of that chaos, helped remove an inch of that guilt which resided. You had enough faith to believe he might have been alive...somewhere out there. But you would never be able to say unless you saw him...once more...yet again.

“How did you get here? I was never told and avoided asking, but knowing that if a titan and Zeke were involved...it must’ve been something shocking, yet miraculous.”

“Ah...as sharp as ever. That day, the titan held me in it’s mouth and carried me back to Zeke. I think he told it to bring someone back, if anything anyone, and it did. He then explained to me as to what he was doing on Paradis, and Pieck then sent me back to the doc...leading me back to Marely.”

“I see…”

You then started to tear up. Water flowed down your cheeks as Reiner looked at you surprised. Though you had felt the wrongdoing for so long, you couldn’t help but cry. Just like death is described so simply, so was the feeling of guilt...along with sadness. Sorrow for your friends, comrades...and the person you loved most. Even if these events took place in the past, the pain would forever stay in the present.

“Annie...Bertholdt...I’m so sorry. Sorry for being pathetic, and getting in your way…” you then clenched your hair as the next words came out. Both out of agony, yet a way to guilt trip Reiner in the moment. Before hearing what you would say, he patted your shoulder, trying to comfort you in the way he knew best. Silence and listening.

“If only I had died like Reiner had planned...would you have been here now?” Reiner looked horrified to say the least. Though you did feel this (to an extent), you’d never want to bring up such a thing. But at this time, you selfishly did. Since impulsivity was your pathetic excuse to help you cope. Reiner felt such weight on his shoulders, and you could tell as he too started to pour.

“The three of you...I’m so sorry. If only I wasn’t such a fake...such a coward...all of us would be here. No casualties, no deaths...none of the trauma...I’m so sorry...especially to you Y/n.”

He sat there and continued to sob. His hands clenched, body stiff, and eyes red. You stopped after seeing him in such a condition. You were right...every smile did have it’s frowns...Reiner being the greatest example, along with yourself. Though it looked pitiful from an outsider’s view, it was merely absurd for the two of you to be this broken. Afterall, you both (out of the five) had inflicted the most pain onto the torn.

Your lies, actions, and murders. You both knew that and seeing you wail, made you feel even more upset. Though that was the case...you acknowledged that you would have to toughen up, be the bigger person for the sake of you both. That way, you could get through that hell hole of your mind. Even with that, you still used this as an opportunity to let out everything. That way, you could prepare for whatever mental wave was yet to come.

“Y/n...I’m sorry. I dragged you into such a mess, almost killed you on numerous events, betrayed your trust, and yet...you’re still my friend,” you then rubbed his back hoping to soothe his anguish.

“I...stop acting so pitiful...the two would pester you if they saw. The past is the past, and we both need to focus on the present. Now that we’ve got this long awaited, and needed conversation out of the way, we can move on with less burden.”

You then put a hand on his shoulder, for him to then look at you.

“I forgive you. Though it hurts to hear, and I’m still quite furious...you’re my friend. Plus, I have no right to play innocent when I’ve done just as much harm. I forgive you, and the others probably do as well. Even Porco for goodness sake,” you smirked for him to then say:

“Ah...Porco still hates me though,” you then smacked his arm playfully.

“That’s not true haha.”

You then lie in the sand, and gestured for him to do so. He lay beside you, and watched as your finger pointed to the sky. Though he was confused, you understood your own intentions. You decided to be open with Reiner about Jean. Only this once since he was so open to you, and this was the only time you felt vulnerable enough to do so.

“You see those constellations?”

“Yes.”

“Jean showed me those. We went stargazing together one time, and stared at the beautiful orbs. It was such a precious moment...one that I’ve never forgotten no matter how hard I tried.”

“I see.”

You both sat and watched in silence. No words were exchanged because none needed to be. The wind that rushed down from head to toe, consoled you as the ocean moved back and forth. The quietness of this scene...was ever so comforting. You were glad Reiner was able to share it with you. That being the case, you also felt relieved when he asked:

“Do you...do you miss him?”

“Yes...yes I do.”

Ⅶ > Ⅸ

#attack on titan #aot #jean #jean x you #kirschtein #aot fanfiction #aot x y/n #jean x y/n #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtien #jean x reader #jean x female reader #jean angst #aot x reader #aot angst #aot x you #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x reader

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suzumenokakimono · 4 years ago

Text

I was here first II

Pairing: Namjoon / Jimin x reader

Genre: AU, smut, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, fwb, friends to lover

Summary: Jimin was your roommate, best friend and in love with you so bad it wasn’t even funny. His friends knew this all along and were surely surprised you’ve never noticed. But you didn’t. You were oblivious as the Earth was round. Now, Jimin decided it was time to finally confess to you. He asked one of his closest friends, Namjoon, to help him. But what if you end up liking Namjoon instead of Jimin?

Word count: 7k

A/N: Thank you, N.

While I was writing this, I realized what’s ‘wrong’ with my writing style but then also it hit me: not gonna change it.

Also, there is stuff going on in my head, hence the plot. * flies away *

Namjoon though.

Tagged: (as requested 💜: @ jinnfires)

Masterlist | Chapters: One | Two | Three (incoming)

-------

That was your favorite mug.

You remembered how you got it, actually. Jimin had broken your mug. The only mug you had brought with you when you’d moved in. It was really stupid, it was not even special to you. You just never bought anything more, never needed it to, to be honest.

Before you started to live with Jimin, your previous roommate had had a lot of stuff and she’d always let you use it. It was really convenient and you gladly took advantage of that. When she moved out, you were left with just your stuff, which was not a lot. Jimin always said you could use anything you wanted from his kitchen but it was nice to have something of your own. So when he broke your only mug, he immediately bought you a new one. He was feeling very bad about that and kept sending you tons of links to internet shops, asking what you would like. To finally make him stop crying over the whole situation, you’d picked one and you used it ever since. After those two years in this apartment, you got yourself more things, that you could call yours, but this one stayed as your favourite.

And now it was broken. You were standing in the middle of the kitchen and looking at the shattered pieces on the floor, not sure how that had happened. No. That was a lie. You knew exactly how it had happened, you just weren’t sure… how.

The morning started pretty ordinarily. It was a weekend so both you and Jimin didn’t have work and stayed at home. He was trying to convince you to go to the cinema or something, but looking at the weather you weren’t sure it was the best idea. You just wanted to stay inside. You decided to make yourself a nice tea and finally start reading that book you’d wanted to read for so long.

Jimin’s face leaned out from behind the door frame to check what was going on. He had heard the noise and wanted to make sure you were alright. He saw you standing in the kitchen and started to think he had misheard but then he noticed the mess on the floor. He didn’t have any issues with recognizing your mug. Or what was left of it.

“Did you just…?”.

You hadn’t even noticed him. When he spoke you turned around, surprised by his presence.

“Huh… what?”

“Did you just break the mug from me?”

For some reason he was pretty amused by this. Knowing what happened with the previous one and seeing what you did with the one he got you, was a little ironic.

“I can’t believe you broke THE MUG!”

He chuckled to himself but then he saw your face expression and just burst into laughter. You looked so surprised and out of place, for what the reason he assumed, was your accident with the mug. He started to help you clean up, since you were barefoot and could step into some smaller pieces and hurt yourself.

“What happened?”

“Um… sorry. I… got distracted. Shame…”

You really were sorry about that. One of the reasons you liked the mug was how you’d actually gotten it. The story was simple but there was a story and that’s what counted. You can’t say that very often about your everyday life’s items.

You helped Jimin with cleaning, making sure nothing stayed on the floor and took out one of his mugs from the cabinet. While doing so you were holding your phone in your other hand, looking intensely on its screen.

“So, what about the movie?”

“... movie? What movie?”

“Are you still not going?”

“No…”, you looked at your phone again. “Something came up.”

-------

When Jimin opened the door, it was around 6am. It was already getting bright outside but all he was thinking about was to sleep for the next week. He was exhausted and kind of dehydrated. Not being entirely conscious he went to the kitchen and just turned on the tap to drink some water. He twisted his head to the side and leaned over the sink. Cold, clean water ran down his throat and felt a little more alive than a few seconds ago. He promised himself, not for the first time to be honest, not to drink that much next time. Let’s face it. He was not going to quit drinking entirely. He just wanted not to feel half dead each morning after a fun, long night. That was never fun. The only plus of those situations was you, you taking care of him when he was in a state where crawling on the floor seemed like the only possible way of moving. You always complained but never denied helping him. It also gave you many possibilities of making fun of him.

He turned off the water and dried his face with a towel. He needed a shower but was too tired to care about that. Soft bed was calling for him. While passing by your room, he saw the door not entirely closed, so he quietly stepped closer to check up on you. You were sleeping in your bed, wrapped in your comforter like a burrito and snoring quietly. Your pretty dress was on a chair and shoes discarded separately on the floor. He saw your hair pointing out and this way he was sure you were okay. Namjoon did what he was asked to. He went to his room, feeling a little heavy, remembering again what had happened in the club and how his whole plan didn’t work out at all. He knew it was his fault that he backed out and just left you. But for him, the price was too big. What ifs were killing him this whole time and he decided he would not take this risk. He needed more time.

He closed your door behind him and went to his room. He had a lot of stuff to think about. Maybe a new plan to figure out. But not this morning. The only thing he needed and also wanted to do was sleep.

-------

It had been a week since you, Jimin and Namjoon went out. None of you mentioned the night very often, if at all. When you woke up the next day, you just wanted to die quietly without any distractions and minding silence in Jimin’s room, he was already dead. You both spent that time separately, doing your own stuff, doing everything that was necessary to survive. After that, you just got back to the normal life routine. You hadn’t found out what the meaning of that night was anyway, so you didn’t pay much attention to it.

No. That was a lie. You didn’t care much about the situation with Jimin. Sure, he’d acted weird and left you for some random girl in the club, but he was your friend and apparently he’d gotten back home safe. You did care, however, about the other guy. The one you met that night.

Namjoon didn’t give you any contact information, no phone number, no messenger options. When he’d left your room, he’d just disappeared and never tried to reach out to you. He’d left you with just a memory of him, him on top of you in your bed, groaning low in your ear. This image stayed in your head rent free and didn’t want to move out anytime soon. You didn’t remember everything. You lost a little track of the events after you both left the cab. But you were definitely sure you’d held his dick at some point. That was unmistakable.

Having this vividly in your mind, you tried to find him. The best way and probably the only way, was through Jimin. You’d started by asking him how work was, hoping he would mention his friend at some point. But he didn’t. So’d you tried to nonchalantly talk about your night out but it somehow ended up even worse. He’d changed the subject immediately, without any reason and had been avoiding it since then. You didn’t understand that, but nevertheless, you understood you wouldn’t get any information this way. Sighing heavily, you dropped it for a moment. You really liked Namjoon and wanted to see him again, but apparently you had to wait for something to happen or him to find you, because the universe was telling you to wait. So you waited.

It was Friday evening. You were looking for a movie to watch and you wanted to watch it in the living room. Jimin was writing to you the whole day how one of his annoying co-workers had a birthday and was insisting on going out later to a bar. He was nagging how he didn’t want to, but had to and was asking you for some good excuses to go back home. You liked the idea of spending the evening alone in your apartment so you refused and laughed at his response, when he realized you enjoyed his suffering. Sitting wrapped in a blanket on your living room couch, you were ready for tonight's film show, knowing very well your roommate wouldn't be home anytime soon.

-------

Jimin was sipping his beer without any enjoyment. He was forced to come to the bar and drink, and that took all the fun from being at the bar and drinking. He thought maybe pouring all possible alcohol straight down his throat would be a good solution to survive this ‘birthday party’ but then again he promised himself not to drink that much. At least, not as much as last time. Oh fuck, last time… Just thinking about it made him anxious and he immediately took a big sip. It’d been a week and he couldn’t get over it. He didn’t talk to anyone about that, he was embarrassed and so pissed at himself. He thought maybe hiding everything deep, deep inside him would just make it go away.

Namjoon sat next to him, pushing him to the side, forcing Jimin to make more space. He also got invited for the party, but was a little merrier than his friend. He was drinking some dark beer and looking around the crowd. One of their female colleagues tried to talk to him, he was pretty sure she was flirting, but after a few moments he found an excuse and ran away.

“She has nice legs.”, Jimin mumbled from his glass.

“Yeah, then go and talk to her. I’ll save your spot.”

“I don’t think she likes me. I think she likes you.”

“Bummer.”

“Why are you so defensive? You’re not madly in love with your friend, like me. Or are you?”

Of course Jimin had to mention you. He was drinking and was in a bad mood from the moment they’d entered the bar. This was the first time they actually talked with each other, since your night in the club. Jimin never got back to Namjoon, like he said he would. They were avoiding one another, for their own reasons, which they kept for themselves. Namjoon was seriously scared that everything that had happened between you two was perfectly noticed and his friendship with Jimin was ruined. He really didn’t want that but at the same time, he couldn't blame Jimin. So, when he’d come to the table to finally break the ice, he wasn’t sure what he was going to find. It had surprised him that Jimin didn’t seem to be angry.

“I’m not in love with you. You’re not my type. Too much penis.” Jimin snored at that excellent joke and got back to his drink. This was a good sign.

This past week hadn’t been easy. Avoiding his friend and distracting himself with anything that’s possible just to not think about you was pretty exhausting. He was actually happy someone had come up with the idea of going out to the bar. He needed to chill.

“I fucked this up, didn’t I?”, Jimin spoke out of the blue.

“No. Because you haven’t done anything.”, Namjoon said, without even thinking.

Jimin looked at his friend with an unspoken question, not sure what he meant. Namjoon swallowed hard. The fuck he’d just said that and started the whole conversation? He didn’t mean to say that! How the hell was this supposed to help to not think about you? This was already not going well.

“You’ve never actually tried, you know… talked to her…”, he started to sweat.

“Yes, exactly. I fucked this up, because I have no balls to try.”

“But… why?”

“I thought… maybe…”, he started to mumble. “I should first make her jealous, you know? By picking up someone else and she… would…”

“Make… her jealous? How the hell was she supposed to be jealous if she had no idea what was going on?”

“You know… She sees me with some hot chick, thinks, oh that could have been me…”

Namjoon smelled bullshit from a distance. Jimin was too smart to actually think this kind of shitty strategy would work. Plus, that had never been his plan for that night in the first place..

“Oh, cut the crap!”, Namjoon lost his patience and probably shouted too loud, Jimin looked at him, surprised. “What the hell really happened that night?”

Jimin stopped sipping his beer, trying to collect his thoughts. He was torned apart. He wanted to forget about everything and at the same time, needed to say everything that was eating him alive.

“I panicked.”, Jimin’s sight was glued to the table.

“That… I would call an understatement, at least.

“Remember when we were talking and… we started to look back on the day we met… She mentioned how I was drunk and falling from my chair… She turned to you…”

Namjoon froze in place. This was it. Jimin was about to say how him, his friend, stole the girl of his dreams. There was no turning back.

“She was talking about me like the biggest dork. She was laughing, not taking me seriously…”

Namjoon took a deep breath and wasn’t sure he understood. His mind was completely lost in connecting the dots.

“She’s seeing me as her friend. I was trying to be with her that night, like with the other girls, you know? I was flirting and touching her, she didn’t care at all. We both were drinking and yet… it wasn’t enough. That’s why I ran away.”

Jimin got back to sipping his drink, not looking at Namjoon. And if he had, he would’ve seen an absolutely blank page. Namjoon felt like his brain got a reset and he was sitting with a blue screen displayed for everyone watching. He never doubted that what he did back in the club was wrong, however he was certain Jimin had seen it and was about to kill him. Not noticing how he had been drooling all over you was pretty impossible. And yet, here he was, safe and sound. He narrowed his eyes in that moment, finally connecting the dots. You both were pretty dumb and blind when it came to feelings and reading someone else’s emotions.

“So… you got scared because she was laughing at something you did three years ago?”

“It sounds stupid, I know. But I felt really weird. Like, me doing that is all she can see. Like, that night defined me in her eyes. She sees me as a dork… nothing serious…”

“You’re not a dork.”, Namjoon sighed heavily. This conversation was pretty weird and was making him nervous. However, what made him slightly relaxed was that, one problem was already solved: Jimin was absolutely oblivious about that night.

“I know I am. And she knows I am.”

“Maybe she likes dorks?”, why the fuck did he say that?!

“I actually don’t know what her type is.”

I’m her type.

“Did she date anyone, after moving in with you?”

“I’m not sure… I think there was a guy or two… nothing really serious.”

“You’ve never talked about this? Never gossiped about your lovelife?”

“We did, but she was always more curious about mine, since I did bring some girls a few times. She was always asking why a handsome guy like me doesn’t have a girlfriend”, Jimin smiled to himself after a word handsome. He liked when you called him that.

“She thinks you’re handsome.”

“And she doesn’t like me.”

But she likes me.

Namjoon mentally slapped himself for that.

“What about the other girl?”, he desperately wanted to change the subject.

Talking about you, in a perspective of you liking Jimin or not, was killing him. You were on his mind all the time anyway, since you’d met. And he had to hide that. He started to have problems with being a good friend and supporting Jimin with his crush and his efforts to win you over.

“What girl?”

“The one you were making out when you left us. Y/A saw the two of you at the bar.”

“There’s not much to talk about.”, Jimin looked flustered. He turned his head away.

“Why? Did you go with her and something went wrong?”

“No… it’s….”

“Did she laugh at you? You couldn’t do it? You were too drunk? You fell asleep in the middle?”

“Are you having fun?”

“Yes, yes I am!”

Jimin looked at Namjoon, waiting for another assumption about his night. But none of them came, he stopped making stuff up after seeing his friend's expression.

“It’s nothing like that. I didn’t go with her.”, Jimin sighed.

“I’m a little confused now. You ditched Y/A for some random chick and then you just… came home?”

“No. I… “

“What? What the fuck happened?”

“I went to the internet caffe and played Overwatch.”

Namjoon snorted so much his beer came right through his nose. However, he admitted it was worth it. He would have never expected Jimin to say something like that.

“I’m sorry, you did what?”

“Ugh… Yes, we made out a little but I wasn’t in the mood. I was thinking about Y/A the whole time and it… it just didn’t feel right.”

“You were thinking about Y/N while making out with another girl?”

“I forgot how big of a dipshit you can be, you know?”

You have no idea.

-------

The doorbell woke you up from the deepest moment of your dream. When you lifted your head you weren’t sure where you were, what was going on or who you were. You needed a moment to recover and another ring to finally get up. Blindly you reached out to your nightstand and grabbed your phone.

2:05 am. Who the fuck was that?

You had gone to sleep some time ago, knowing Jimin had his own keys and he would help himself with opening the door. You were not expecting anyone, especially at this time, so while still being a little asleep you were very hesitant to open the door. You looked through the visor on the door but it was too dark to determine anything. But there was someone there, for sure.

Another ring made you jump in place. Someone was really stubborn and didn’t want to let this go. So, hoping nobody doing this kind of noise would try to kill you, you slowly turned the locks and looked at what was waiting for you in the corridor.

First you saw Namjoon. He was standing right in front of the door, basically leaning into it. He barely looked at you because all his attention was on another person hanging on his shoulder. And that person was Jimin.

You looked first at Namjoon, then at your roommate, then again at his friend. Many questions were growing inside your head, you were fully awake at this point.

“What…?”

You tried to articulate one of them, but it died before it left your mouth. Was Jimin unconscious? You just pointed at him, which was worth a thousand words.

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t find his keys. He said they’re in his pocket but… I’m not gonna…

He moved a step forward, trying to get to the apartment, without bumping into you. You shook your head, realizing you were blocking his way. You moved away to make the corridor clear but Namjoon didn’t go any further.

“Can you… help me?”

You immediately got to the other side of Jimin and put his arm on your shoulder. You felt his weight on you and a second after that you smelled all the alcohol he drank at the bar. He was indeed unconscious. His body felt like a ragdoll, it was really hard to get him into his room, but both of you somehow managed to. His feet were dragging along on the floor while you pulled him through the corridor. You threw him on his bed, which was a little too rough, but he didn’t react in any way.

“I think this time he might be dead.”, Namjoon was standing next to you.

“Possibly.”

You sighed heavily. You knew what was coming so you jumped out to the bathroom and brought a big plastic bowl. You put it next to Jimin’s bed, just in case he woke up and decided he didn’t like all the alcohol he had in his body. And food. And his insides. You assumed him waking up would be a very dramatic moment.

“That’s clever. I don’t think he’ll aim for that anyway, but at least we tried.”, Namjoon didn’t fool himself. If Jimin woke up, he would be half dead and puking into the bowl would be the last thing on his list.

You both left the room. You were trying to act quietly, even though there was no such force that could have woken up Jimin in this state. You closed the door behind you and looked at Namjoon. Before, you smelled alcohol because of your friend. He drank like there was no tomorrow, for sure. But Joon did not say no to drinks as well. He was not as drunk as your roommate but he was swaying in place, not able to focus his sight on you.

“Are you feeling ok?”

“I’m fine… I just need to lay down…”, he was a little embarrassed and wanted to go home and sleep.

“Do you want some tea?”, you asked, already being on your way to the kitchen. On your way you brushed your hand on his arm, trying to pretend that was an accident, didn’t mean much.

Namjoon didn’t say anything. He just watched you going, focusing on how you were swaying your hips, followed you and after a few seconds.

“Tea sounds perfect.”

He was watching while you were jumping around and making him and yourself a tea. Yet again he saw you in a different light than before. When he stood still, holding the door frame for support, he focused on the way you looked. He remembered you in your pretty dress and makeup. Well, also without a dress. But this time you were just in your pajama shorts and a simple loose T-shirt. Your hair was tied up on top of your head and you were definitely not wearing any makeup. Even though his vision was not the best at that time, he decided you looked very pretty with a bare face.

When the tea was ready, you grabbed both mugs by their handles and just took them to the living room, giving him an unspoken direction to do the same. Namjoon followed you again and you both sat on the couch. He felt much better sitting, it made him feel more sure he wouldn’t fall down. Or at least from his seat, there was a much shorter trip to the floor.

“Party was that good?”, you asked.

“Afterparty, maybe.”

“After-what? Why did you need that?” “It was Jimin’s idea. He… didn’t have much fun at the birthday party, so we went somewhere else just to… well, drink. We didn’t plan to stay long… and that part of the plan worked out.”

Namjoon seemed a little tired. He leaned his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. Was he falling asleep? You took that opportunity and looked at him. He wasn’t wearing his beanie this time. His natural dark hair was short and dyed to a blonde color, shaved at the bottom and slightly underneath into a nice undercut. It really suited him and you were fighting with the urge to brush your fingers through his hair. You imagined how it would feel under your fingertips. Probably very soft. His grey hoodie was a little loose on his body, you’d noticed he liked a little baggier clothes. He’d matched it with light jeans and red converse.

Somehow, you missed him and wanted him to stay. Even just to talk with you. You were pinching yourself to start a conversation, any conversation, you didn’t want him to leave.

“You know, after that fun night in the club you disappeared… I haven’t heard from you… ”

Namjoon opened his eyes and looked at you. It definitely helped him wake up.

“I…”, he wasn’t sure what to say.

He had been avoiding you. Not that you’d had many occasions to actually meet. But he was trying to forget about a pretty girl that he really liked but very well knew, his friend was in love with. He had to remind himself of that all the time. The whole evening with Jimin was not helping at all. Getting in touch with you, after all that had happened the night you met was a very bad idea.

“I didn’t want to bother you. We’ve barely met and I thought that… we’re not that close, so it doesn’t matter.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’re not friends… we don’t have to hang out… you know... “, he had no idea what he was talking about.

“We’re not but you’re Jimin’s friend. You can’t run away from him.”

“I didn’t run away from you.”

“But you did avoid me?”

“Yes. NO!”, his brain was malfunctioning. He pulled himself up, grabbed his tea and took a sip. It burned his tongue a little but was a great distraction.

“You don’t like me?”

“NO!”, he almost jumped in his place and spilled his tea on his legs. “What? Of course not! I do!”

You laughed at his reaction.

“I like you too.”

You smiled at him, blushing a little. You took your mug from the coffee table to distract yourself from the embarrassment that was attacking you. He didn’t miss that. He was still a little buzzed but you talking to him was keeping him awake. He was watching you intensely, trying to remember how you’d looked that night. He put his mug away, to avoid spilling tea anywhere and leaned his head back on the couch sliding down a little in his seat. He wasn’t sure if he was getting sleepy again or whether your presence was affecting him this way. Whatever it was, a nice warm feeling spread through his body after your small confession. He smiled back at you, which made you even more flustered and you almost hid your face in your mug.

“Ah… you know… after all that happened, I was pretty sure you actually don’t want to see me.”

“But, why? Did I do something stupid? Did I… fall asleep while we were…?”

“No, we didn’t do anything! When I put you into bed you were already sleeping.”

“I actually wanted to ask, did I fall asleep while we were kissing.”, you giggled. You remembered Namjoon left before anything happened.

“Oh, then, my answer would be yes!”, he smiled with his cute smile, showing his dimples. A shy blush also showed up on his cheeks.

“Huh, I think I drank a little too much.”

“That’s fine. It’s not like I was sober. I was there too.”

“Yes… yes, you were.”, you looked into his eyes. “I was drunk, half naked and you rolled me into my comforter and left.”

Namjoon’s breath hitched for a second. Your straightforward statement made him remember how that had actually happened, that everything he had in his head really took place.

You on the bed, him on top of you. He tried to get up, you held him. He was trying to leave, you took off your dress. Later he was trying to convince himself that it didn’t happen, he didn’t see you naked waist up, that his hard dick wasn’t…

“... yeah, you took that dress off…”, he drifted off for a moment, looking in your direction, but not at you. Images were flashing right in front of his eyes.

Then he heard you laughing.

“I did take my dress off”, you hid your face in your hands. Your expression changed in one second, again.

Namjoon snorted right after you. Talking about this was making him a little nervous. He felt his hands starting to sweat. You were sitting close to him, with your legs on the couch, one arm spread behind his head. Your shorts riled up your thighs showing even more skin. Loose T-shirt hanging on your shoulder, making your collarbone very much visible.

You put your mug back to the table and moved closer to him.

“We were both drunk, but I do remember most of it.”, you knew you were blushing, but didn’t want that to stop you.

“... I… maybe half of it.” he lied. He remembered everything.

“I can’t stop thinking about what if…”

He swallowed hard. He looked at your lips. Your hand behind his head found his hair and played with it nonchalantly. He was pretending he didn’t notice. You scratched your neck with your other hand and glued his sight to your skin. He remembered everything.

“What if what?”

“What if we slept together? It’s not like we’re in relationships, so we wouldn't be doing anything wrong… right?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend…”, he shook his head a little to emphasize this.

“Me neither. Or a boyfriend.”, you smiled.

You were getting closer and closer. He felt a hint of a fruit scent. Was that your shampoo? Your finger touched his neck. Very lightly, but a shiver went down his spine. Your touch was hot on his skin and he immediately started to want more.

Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.

You took your hand away, like you realised what you were doing and that was way too far and too fast. For a second you panicked, a train of thoughts was attacking you and you felt like you were the only one that was trying to do something there. Like you were the only one who felt the spark and wanted to use it. Like he didn’t want you anymore.

He raised his head a little, he looked straight into your eyes, his mouth was slightly open.

You were wrong. You were so fucking wrong.

You leaned into him and you kissed him without another word. He didn’t oppose at all. After all, if you hadn't, he would have done that himself. He cupped your face and pulled you closer. One of his hands wandered to your neck. He also felt yours on his, it went straight back to its place where it had been before. He tasted like beer and tea at the same time. You felt the alcohol in his breath but didn’t care much. You took his lower lip between yours and sucked. You felt him smiling, he liked that.

One of his hands grabbed your T-shirt and pulled you closer to him. It made you lose your balance and you put your hand on his chest for support. He didn’t stop though. He was trying to get you as close as possible.

Without thinking much, you straddled his lap, putting one leg on each side of his hips. His hands were immediately on your bare thighs. Kneading the flesh he moved them up, right on your ass. Grabbing you shorts, he pulled them right up, putting both of your ass cheeks on display. Holding them, made you move closer and spread your legs wider. You sat right up above his crotch, feeling his hardening dick under your thigh.

Grabbing his hoodie and by pulling it up you urged him to raise his hands, to take it off. He was wearing a simple white T-shirt beneath it. Tight enough to show his slim body and wide shoulders. He didn’t give you much time to appreciate it. Both of his hands were on your neck and pulled you back to him. He was kissing you like crazy, with his tongue exploring your mouth, not giving you any moment to take a breath. One of his hands slid down your shoulder and was going down, until he found the hem of your T-shirt. You felt his fingers on your stomach, shyly first. He was tasting the waters, making sure you were ok with that. Shortly after his whole hand was holding you around your ribcage with his both hands. Circling his thumbs under your breasts, he was slowly moving them up after he found your nipples.

“I want to see them again.”, his voice was so low, you barely recognized it.

You whispered a soft “OK” to him and he moved his hands up. T-shirt hooked on his wrist moved up with them. He put it through your head and hooked it on your neck. He didn’t have to do more. He got what he wanted. When he was undressing you, you lifted your hips up and he made you stay that way. Your breasts were right in front of his face and without hesitation he attached his lips to one of them. He licked your nipple, making his tongue flat he slid it up and down, making you moan. He looked up to you, wanting to see your facial expression, wanting to see how much you enjoyed that. He pinched your second nipple which made you whine even louder and his cock even harder. He remembered those sounds, now even more vivid to him, when he wasn’t that drunk.

While still working your breast with his mouth, his hand moved down, across your thigh, slowly getting closer to your center. THe loose hem of the leg of your shorts gave him easy access to you. His fingers found your core, still covered with your cotton panties, circling it, trying to get inside. Moving them to the side he finally felt how wet you were.

“Oh fuck… baby, is this all for me?”

You felt a heat rushing through your body. His words made you flustered for some reason, like saying it made it even more real and undeniable. You didn’t know what to say so you blindly shifted your hand to his crotch and found his cock. You started to palm him through his pants, which made him groan. You felt his hot breath and tongue on your skin. But it wasn’t enough. His fingers found your clit and started to slowly move up and down. You made a noise which gave him the perfect confirmation he was doing a good job. Without any further delay you unzipped him and shoved your hand into his pants. He was already hard and precum was gathering on his tip. He slowed his movements when he felt your hand on him, a little unsure what your next move was. You slid his pants and boxer shorts down and freed him. His hard dick slapped into his stomach and you immediately grabbed it and started to pump him. Your hand was sliding on his soft skin, smearing the precum all over him. He started to breathe loud and move his hand on you again.

You were so wet, you felt it on your thighs. He was touching your clit, sometimes circling it, something sliding up down, left and right. One of his fingers slid inside of you, feeling no resistance. After that the second one joined him, making you stretch a little. You barely felt it. When he started to move them in and out of you, your hips joined them, copying his pace. You didn’t forget about this cock in your hand. He bucked up into your fist when you sped up. He wasn’t able to focus on your nipples anymore. His face landed between your breast, his hot breath made a drop of sweat gather right there. He was whispering sweet nothings to you, you didn’t even understand them.

You were already chasing your orgasm. The very well known feeling started to build in your stomach and you were desperate to feel it. His fingers were doing wonders on you, circling your clit in a steady pace. You moved your hips closer but his other hand grabbed your hip and held you. You leaned towards him, hid your face in his neck, kissing and sucking the skin. You were focusing on the pleasure he was giving you but still wanted to return the favour. You speed up the pace of your own hand, squeezing his dick hard and making him moan right into your ear. He was getting close like you. You focused on the tip, circling with your thumb on his slit, wanting to make him cum. He was starting to breath faster and louder, squeezing your hip, digging his fingers into your flesh.

Then you heard it. A loud noise, which snapped you from your bliss and made your high disappear in a blink of an eye. He’d heard it too. His hand between your legs froze, but still stayed in place.

“Was that… from Jimin’s room?”, you asked, completely confused.

Sweat on Namjoon’s face ran down his cheek and ended up on this neck. He was as confused as you were. He’d heard it too and had no idea what that was.

“I-I need to check that.”

When you moved to leave his lap, he whined and grabbed your hand. He didn’t want to stop, he was so close. His own hand was still in your panties, fingers wet with your arousal ready to get back to work and get you off. You were so tempted to go for it, ignore the noise and forget about everything. But you heard it again. This time you were certain it was from Jimin’s room. He probably woke up.

You had no other choice but to leave Namjoon’s hard dick alone and stand up. He didn’t like that idea but he finally let you go. His hand left your center and went straight to his mouth. He put his fingers inside and sucked them clean, while looking into your eyes the whole time. This time you whined loudly and cursed Jimin for this.

When you were on your legs again, you put your T-shirt down and went to your roommate’s room. Before you opened the door, you felt Namjoon behind you, his hand landed on your shoulders. You both got inside and discovered Jimin was nowhere to be found. His bed was empty,

“... da fuck…”

And for some reason, Jimin’s pants were on the floor. You had no memory of undressing him, or Namjoon doing that. Did he wake up and take them off? What for? And how? You both were shocked, until you went around the bed and found him on the floor. He was laying on his stomach, with one hand twisted in a very uncomfortable angle, wearing his T-shirt and boxer shorts. The plastic bowl you left for him was pushed away, but still empty.

You kneeled next to him, checking if he was okay. He was still breathing, but he left unconscious. Namjoon came to you and helped you to put him on his bed again. You rolled him on his back and covered him with a comforter. He was safe again, although you were really puzzled about what had just happened. You were pretty sure Jimin would not remember this, he was way too drunk, so there was no chance you’d find out anyway. You sighed, put the bowl back to its place and left the room, with Namjoon following you.

When both of you were outside, you quietly closed the door yet again. You felt Namjoon’s hand on you, how he grabbed you by your shoulder and turned you around to him. Your back hit the wall and his body was pressed into yours immediately, pushing air from your lunges. He grabbed your breast and squeezed it, pushing you even harder into the wall. His kiss was long and passionate but when he detached his lips he just stayed like that, looking at you through his lashes.

‘Why the hell do you have to be such a good kisser?”, he whispered into your lips.

You felt his boner on your stomach and reached out to touch him again. But he moved away. He kissed you one last time and took a step back. Still looking at you, took a deep breath and turned to the living room. Your mind was still hazy with the intense make out, so you didn’t follow him on the spot. But when you did, he wasn’t sitting on the couch but standing in front of the coffee table. He took his tea and started to drink. In one take, he finished it and put the empty mug back. After that he took his hoodie, walked past you, opened the door and left.

It was the second time he was leaving you like this.

------

“What came up?”, Jimin put a bag of tea in your mug and poured boiling water. You both smelled the scent of green tea. “I thought you’re free today.“

“I am. I-I just don’t want to leave the house tonight.”

“It’s barely noon. You can still change your mind.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

You started to rummage through another cabinet, looking for some cookies. But you couldn’t stop looking at your phone’s screen. Jimin was watching you and noticed how much you were distracted. No wonder you'd broken THE MUG.

“Why are you staring at your phone like that?”

Automatically you did it again. Unread messages’ thumbnails looked at you, asking why you hesitate to read their whole content.

With a loud crash you closed the cabinet, took your phone and headed to your room.

“I’m going to my room. I need to take care of this.”

Without any more explanation, you took your tea, left the kitchen and locked yourself in your room. When left alone, you took a deep breath and finally unlocked your phone.

Messages on your phone manifested in front of you and at the point you were certain you read them correctly at the first time.

Unknown [12:36]: You know, I’ve been thinking… We should drink some tea together again

Unknown [12:36]: I’d love to see what next is gonna happen with us in one room

Unknown [12:40]: It’s Namjoon btw

雀

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