#donghyuk having a good time is so easy on the eyes

[xjoonchildx]

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter six: no one but you

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, smut

rating: 18+

word count: 5.6K

A/N: i sincerely hope you guys like the way this ends, it’s always so nerve-wracking to end a story! the epilogue to this story is posted as well and linked.  thank you to every single person who sent sweet messages of support it means the world to me.  SMUT WARNINGS APPLY IN THIS CHAPTER: oral (m/f), unprotected sex (only in fiction y’all) and hoseok thirst.

of course, i cannot post this story without shouting out some of the most supportive, killer people on this site.  you guys truly mean the world to me @ladyartemesia​ @ppersonna​ @taetaewonderland​ @hobi-gif​

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

*********************

There are perks to being the boss.

For Namjoon, it means calling the shots on the streets from his office in the sky.  Rarely does he leave the climate-controlled comfort of his pristine headquarters to get his hands dirty in the day-to-day business of the organization he runs.

Tonight, he’s making an exception.

Yoongi drives. Like a bat out of hell, as always.

It’s a thirty-minute ride from downtown Seoul to Incheon Port without traffic but Yoongi is on pace to finish it in just twenty.  Hoseok watches the lights on the expressway speed by from the backseat.  He tries hard to focus on the information Namjoon shares, the details he’ll need in order to ensure he doesn’t put himself or anyone else in danger tonight.  

But fuck, it’s so hard to concentrate with the taste of you still on his lips.  

He scrubs a hand down his face and takes a deep breath.  He forces himself to push the memory of your body in his hands and your skin in his mouth and your voice in his ear to the corner of his mind.  

Then he goes over the information again.

Namjoon wants to be in place at least ten minutes before the scheduled meet so he can figure out what’s going on before the Ssijog knows he’s there with his men.  

He wants guns to stay holstered unless he gives the signal.

He wants --

“You must have really scared the shit out of that guy, Jung,” Namjoon murmurs from the front seat.  Hoseok snaps back into focus to search for his boss’s reflection in the side mirror and finds Namjoon already looking at him. “He’s been blowing up his contact since last night, begging for personal protection.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t do worse,” Hoseok shrugs.  “I certainly could have.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt,” Namjoon agrees.  “Someday you’ll have to tell me the story of how you managed to be outside of his apartment when his handler picked him up.  Here I was, under the impression you had the night off.”

Hoseok swallows thickly.

“Just doing my job.”

There’s a twist to Namjoon’s mouth that Hoseok can’t read and it puts him on edge.  

“Well, I must thank you for your dedication to your job,” Namjoon continues. “You’ve really gone above and beyond the call of duty for this assignment.”

Hoseok looks away from the mirror.  “Yeah, sure,” he says quietly.  

The car falls into an uncomfortable silence.

Yoongi clears his throat.  

“So anyway --” he announces loudly, “-- Jimin and Tae were able to track Kang’s texts through some internet bullshit they mess around with. Apparently dude flipped out after you left his place and wouldn’t let up until his handlers agreed to meet him tonight.”

“At Incheon Port?” Hoseok asks, glad for the redirect.  “That’s a hell of a drive for a chat.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Namjoon says under his breath.  

The car falls silent once again.

**********************

Mun Kiwoo has a reputation for being messy.

The man at the top sets the tone for the organization, and Mun is no exception.  His men are known for their brutality, his deals often go south, and by most accounts his syndicate is hanging on by a thread.

But it’s still hanging on.

Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi watch quietly from their vantage point behind a shipping container as Mun waits in the dark, cigarette in hand. He looks like an unmade bed -- shirt rumpled and half-tucked into his wrinkled dress pants.  He lights one cigarette off of another as he answers a series of calls on his cell.  

His agitation seems to rise each time it rings again.

Hoseok takes stock of the two guards Mun has at his side tonight.  They’re bulky men with huge arms and round bodies -- the kind of guys who look dangerous due to sheer size, but would be slow to respond in a physical fight.  Namjoon holds up two fingers to confirm they’re the only men with Mun and Hoseok nods.

Headlights bounce off the pavement after a few more minutes of waiting.

A black car pulls up close to the water’s edge and Mun Kiwoo ends his call just as he lights another cigarette.  

Kang Donghyuk is the first out of the car, followed closely by his Ssijog handler.  Kang is dragging his ass and even from a distance, Hoseok can make out the bandage over the side of his face.

Hope it hurts, motherfucker.

“Mr. Kang,” Mun Kiwoo’s voice is clear now, loud enough for all three men to hear.  “You have been rather insistent about this meeting. I’m a busy guy.  What do you want?”

All three men strain to listen to Donghyuk’s response, but it’s too muffled to catch.  Yoongi brings his hands to his throat to make a choking gesture.  Can’t hear shit, he mouths.  You choked him too hard.

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“That sounds like your problem,” Mun laughs in response to whatever Kang has said.  “Not mine.”

Donghyuk gestures wildly as he tries to make his case, likely pleading for the protection of the Ssijog.   Mun Kiwoo looks unmoved.

“I’m not interested in causing any more trouble with the Gajog, Mr. Kang.  This entire situation has been a means to an end.  Stirring more shit with Kim Namjoon is not in my best interest.”

Namjoon signals to Yoongi and Hoseok that it’s time to move.  All three men step out from their cover behind the shipping container, hands in front of their bodies to demonstrate none are holding their weapons.

“Fucking hell,” Mun Kiwoo groans when he spots them.  “I don’t have time for this shit.”

His guards bow up at his side, both men reaching for their guns.  Mun has the good sense to raise a hand and stop them from pulling their firearms -- which keeps Yoongi and Hoseok from doing the same.  All of the men face off in silence for a moment, each side waiting to see if the other will do something to break the fragile peace.

Kang Donghyuk whines under his breath and Hoseok shoots a warning glare at him.  He drops his gaze to the ground and shuts his mouth.

“You say you don’t want trouble with me, Mun and yet --” Namjoon snarls, “-- you have this piece of shit working my sister. Explain.”

“You know how these rich boys are, Kim,” Mun chuckles.  “They develop a bad habit -- or in this idiot’s case, two -- and daddy’s money isn’t enough anymore.  They’re easy to buy.”

Donghyuk looks from Namjoon to Mun, panic in his wide eyes.

“They’re trying to kill me,” he rasps.

“So what?” Mun laughs.  He smiles wide to reveal a mouth like an abandoned graveyard, teeth broken and scattered.  “This guy thinks we’re friends,” he jeers, jerking a thumb in Donghyuk’s direction.  “He’s too stupid to figure out that he served a purpose and now he doesn’t anymore.  Simple as that.”  

Namjoon sucks in a breath with obvious irritation.

“I’m still waiting to hear what any of this shit has to do with my sister.”

“Ah, yes,” Mun says, stubbing out his cigarette and getting back to the task at hand. “Listen, I don’t have anything against your sister personally, okay? Lim Joowon is my son and I want him back.  He can’t spend the next 15 years behind bars. You understand that, right? Doing whatever it takes for your family?”

Namjoon utters a curse under his breath.

“I’ll give your sister some credit, though -- she’s tenacious.  I thought she’d give up after we took her digital files,” Mun admits.  “Instead she’s cost me a hell of a lot more money.  I’ve had to start cutting a lot more checks to ensure this shit goes away.”

“She’s not the type to roll over and play dead, Mun,” Namjoon growls through gritted teeth.  

“The pigheaded gene runs in the family, huh?” Mun grins. “Look, let me level with you Kim, man to man.  I don’t even need your sister at this point. I’ve paid enough people to fuck this case from the inside out.  But I won’t lie, she is my insurance.  If any of the higher-ups start asking questions about why this case fell apart -- who better to point the finger at than the sweet young prosecutor with the dirty family connections, hmm?”

Namjoon tenses, hand reaching for the gun at his side.  Yoongi stops him with a muttered warning.

“None of us give a fuck about what happens to your son, Mun,” Namjoon says. “What I have a problem with is you sending that piece of shit --” he points at the trembling Kang Donghyuk, “ -- into her fucking home. Invading her space.  You crossed a line.”

“You’re right,” Mun agrees lightly.  “It was rude. Uncalled for.  I’m gonna apologize for it right now.”

He pulls his pistol from his side and the sound of clinking metal bounces off the shipping containers as everyone pulls their guns.  Hoseok trains his pistol directly at the shaking Kang Donghyuk and silently prays for the chance to pull the trigger. Mun Kiwoo’s gun is pointed at Namjoon and Namjoon’s is pointed right back.

Then Mun’s face lights up with a bizarre smile. He swings the point of his pistol in the direction of Donghyuk and pulls the trigger twice.

Donghyuk sputters as he falls to the floor.

Hoseok and Yoongi exchange looks.  

Namjoon stares at Mun incredulously.

“What?” Mun’s nonchalance is comical.  “You wanted to do that too, right?  Besides, that guy owes everyone in the city money. I promise you, his own mother won’t even miss him.”

“Jesus,” Yoongi mutters under his breath. “This guy is fucking nuts.”

Mun puts his pistol away and his men follow suit.  Namjoon signals for Yoongi and Hoseok to do the same.  

“Consider that a goodwill gesture,” Mun says breezily.  “An official apology from me, to you.  And please pass along my consideration to your sister.  Please assure her that none of this is personal.  But I will make sure my son stays out of prison.  And like it or not, she’s going to play some kind of role in that.”

Namjoon stares off into the water.

“I can’t control my sister, Mun.  She makes her own choices,” he says after a moment.  “But let me be clear, this is the first and last polite discourse we’re going to have about this situation.  I don’t want you, your goons or any --” he glances at the bleeding pile of Kang Donghyuk on the floor, “-- paid help going near her.  Not in her office, not in her home. Nowhere. Are we clear?”

Mun Kiwoo lights another cigarette and smiles wide, the space in his teeth prominent against the gleaming ember hanging from his mouth.  

“Crystal.”

On the way back to the car, Hoseok hears the heavy splash of Kang Donghyuk’s body hitting the water down below.

He shuts his eyes against the rush of pleasure he feels as he climbs into the backseat.

************************

YOU

Something isn’t right.

You stare at the empty seat across the conference table -- the one where Hyejin normally sits -- and something twists in your gut.  She’s out sick today.  You can’t even remember the last time she took a sick day.

All morning, you’ve tried to convince yourself that it’s no big deal.  That you’re working yourself up for nothing.

But Donghyuk is out today, too.  

Vaguely, you register the sound of your boss’s voice at the front of the room. Any minute now, you’ll be asked to brief the team on the status of your case, but you can’t think straight.  You can’t focus on anything but the feeling in the pit of your stomach that something is wrong.  

Your thoughts race back to last night, back to your brother taking his men away for business in the middle of the night.

Back to Hoseok.

You try not to think about what it felt like to have his warm body pressed against yours. The way he smelled like fresh laundry and spice. The way you unraveled the moment he touched you.  

Your phone pulses with an incoming text.

namjoon: i’ve asked jungkook to bring you to the office tonight after work [ 1:25 PM ]

namjoon: a lot to discuss [ 1:26 PM ]

Your brain grinds to a halt as you stare at the messages.

It’s like everything is wrong and everything is right, all at the same time.

“Miss. Kim?”

You look up to see your boss staring at you, one expectant eyebrow raised.  You take a deep breath, line up your papers and stand to take your place at the front of the room.

****************************

The sense of déjà vu that hits you as you make the long walk across your brother’s office is nearly overwhelming.  This is exactly how this entire mess began weeks ago -- with you summoned to see Namjoon after hours, with Yoongi and Hoseok flanking him on either side.

But there is one thing different about tonight.

When you briefly lock gazes with Hoseok as you make your way to Namjoon’s plush chair, there is a warmth behind his dark eyes you can see from a distance. It’s a complete contrast to the first time you ever saw him, when you thought you could freeze to death from the ice in his glare.

You look away before anyone can catch the flush working its way up your neck.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” you brother begins evenly.  “I finally have some answers for you about what’s going on.”

“Well, I’m ready to hear them,” you exhale, taking a seat.  Your eyes drift over the papers strewn scattered across his desk.  

“We’ve learned that the reason the Ssijog want your case against Lim Joowon to fold is because Lim is Mun Kiwoo’s son.”

You raise a brow.

“That’s news to me.  I didn’t even know Mun Kiwoo had a son.”

“Neither did we,” Namjoon admits.  “Apparently this is his only son and the man he intends to pass control of the Ssijog down to.  So it makes sense that he’s so hell-bent on seeing this case fall apart.”

He picks one of the papers off his desk.

“This is the more problematic piece of the puzzle,” Namjoon says quietly.  Your chest tightens in response to the expression on his face. “Jimin and Taehyung tracked a Ssijog account making payouts.  Payouts to people in your office.”

He holds the piece of paper out to you.

“There are six names on that list.”

You take a deep breath before taking the sheet from his hands.  

Your eyes scan down the document, taking in the blows, one by one.  Two receptionists.  One paralegal.  

Lee Hyejin.  

Kang Donghyuk.  

Park Soo.

You say nothing as you stare at the list, taking in the names again.

Someone you called a friend.  Someone you’d allowed into your bed.  The boss you’d bent over backwards trying to impress.  You stare at the black-and-white evidence of betrayal in your hands, reading the words over and over -- expecting to feel sadness or rage or humiliation or something.  

Nothing comes.

“Give us a moment, would you please?”

Yoongi and Hoseok file out of the room quietly at Namjoon’s command.  The second the heavy door to the office clicks shut, he clears his throat.  “There is something else we need to discuss, Amsaja,” your brother continues quietly.  “Kang Donghyuk is dead.”

“Good.”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide at the quick, calm delivery of your response.

You stand to walk to his sideboard to pour a drink.  You have no idea what’s inside the decanter, only that whatever it is promises a burn you want to feel right now. You pour a glass and take a sip, leaning against the heavy wooden piece.

“Did you kill him?”

“No. The Ssijog beat us to it,” Namjoon admits.  “But Hoseok paid Donghyuk a personal visit at home to convey our -- displeasure -- at his involvement in this mess. He damned near choked that man to death hours before Mun Kiwoo put two bullets in him.”

“I’m sorry anyone has ever tried you because I promise you they are going to pay.”

The words Hoseok spoke in your kitchen surface in your mind.  

They’d sent a bolt of pleasure through you at the time -- triggering a kind of primitive response you’d be embarrassed to admit out loud.

And somehow that response pales in comparison to what you’re feeling right now.

A normal woman wouldn’t find satisfaction in the idea of Donghyuk cowering in fear inside his apartment.  A normal woman wouldn’t feel warmth spread through her entire body at the mental image of Hoseok wrapping his hands around Donghyuk’s throat.  You slip a finger under the collar of your blouse and search for your scar -- closing your eyes at the familiar feel of the raised skin.  

You remind yourself that you are not a normal woman.

“Hoseok uncovered Kang’s involvement with the Ssijog even before we found the payouts.”  Your brother pauses, a wry twist to his mouth as he continues.  “He can be a very determined man when something is important to him.”

Namjoon holds your gaze for just a beat too long after delivering that statement.  You look away and walk to his office window.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now, Amsaja,” you brother says.  You can hear the sound of him pouring his own drink behind you.  “Your silence has me concerned.”

You’re thinking about every time Hyejin feigned concern for you and tried to get you to open up. The days Donghyuk insisted he take you to lunch or to dinner when you insisted you were too swamped.  The bullshit little speech Park Soo gave you the night of the charity dinner about keeping Seoul from falling into the hands of criminals.

You’re thinking about what a joke they all are -- dressing up and looking down their noses at the criminal element they claim to despise.  Wearing their fake piety like a badge of honor and paying for their fine things with dirty money.  

You’re thinking that you’d rather choose a hundred street thugs over any one of their kind.  At least your brother has the balls to wear his sins on his sleeve.  

Namjoon joins you at the window, glass in hand.  

“What I’m thinking, Jaegyueo,” you say calmly, “Is that a lot of things are starting to make sense for me.  I haven’t felt this clear in a very long time.  So, thank you.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your brother’s mouth and you return it.

You clink your glasses together in a toast.

***********************

You are two whiskeys deep when you leave Namjoon’s office.  

Hoseok is waiting in a chair in the hallway.  He stands to his feet when you appear from behind the heavy wooden door.  

You suck in a breath as you take him in -- the sharp beauty of his face and the soft curve of his mouth and the way his suit hugs the lines of his lean body.  You realize, with more than a little embarrassment, that you are staring.

“I’ve got the car warming downstairs,” Hoseok says carefully.  “If you’re ready to go, that is.”

“Yes. Hoseok, I --” you swallow thickly,  “-- I never apologized for what I said to you.  I didn’t mean those things. I’m so sorry.”

Hoseok steps close and reaches one hand out to tuck your hair behind your ear.  You shut your eyes, leaning into his touch and inhaling his scent.

“You’ve had a hell of a night,” he murmurs.  “We can talk about that some other time.  Let’s get you home, yeah?”

You open your eyes to look up at him just as Yoongi rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks.

“Glad this isn’t awkward,” he mutters, before turning to walk back the same way he came.

**********************

The air in Hoseok’s car is thick with tension on the ride home.

You’ve stopped pretending to not stare, eyes fixed on Hoseok while his eyes stay glued to the road.  He guides the car through a sharp turn and you catch the way he winces as his hand grips the steering wheel.  

A throb of guilt hits you square in the chest.

“You’re hurt.”

“Nah,” Hoseok deflects quickly.  “Just a little sore.”

He won’t look at you.  Why won’t he look at you?

“Namjoon told me you nearly choked Donghyuk to death,” you say quietly, studying his face for any reaction. He slows the car to a stop at a red light and rubs his fingers across his mouth, stares out of his window.

“I wanted to kill him,” he admits.  He takes his aching hand off the steering wheel and flexes his fingers as if reliving the memory of that night. “I almost did.”

That embarrassing reaction flares inside of you again.  This time it slides down your back and pools low between your legs and you have to squeeze your thighs together in response.  You shiver as you remember the promises he made while pressing his body to yours.

“Tell me what you want. I swear to God, I’ll give it to you.”

You’ve never wanted anything as badly as you do Jung Hoseok right now.

*************************

You force yourself to wait for the elevator doors to shut.

The second they do, you crush your body and your mouth to Hoseok’s.  If you catch him off-guard, there’s no way to tell -- not with the way he immediately backs you into the elevator wall, slotting one knee between your thighs.

“No one gets to hurt you anymore,” he groans the words into the shell of your ear, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin of your neck.  “Just like no one gets to touch you anymore.  No one but me.”

The strangled sigh that escapes you is the closest thing Hoseok is going to get to a thank you right now.  You whimper in agreement, gasping when his fingers grip your ass to pull you flush against him.  The swollen outline of his cock brushes against your stomach and you shudder.

The elevator ride is too long and too short, all at the same time.  Hoseok backs you through the doors as soon as they open, fumbling in his pocket for the keys while you suck bruises into his throat.  By some miracle, he gets the door open and both of you through it in one piece.

“Fuck,” Hoseok swears as you wrap your arms around his neck, grinding against his insistent cock.  He has to drag you both into the bedroom as you press against him like a dead weight, teeth nipping at his bottom lip as you both stumble into the bedroom.  You drop out of his grasp when the bed hits the back of your knees.

Hoseok stands back, chest heaving with exertion.

“I need you to hear you say it,” he pants.  “Please.”

You sit up straight on the edge of the bed and unbutton your blouse, slipping it off without hesitation.  “No one gets to touch me,” you breathe, reaching to unclasp your bra.  You toss it away.

“No one but you.”  

Hoseok’s eyes darken to near black.

He shrugs off his suit jacket and slowly pulls off his holster and gun, placing both carefully on top of your dresser.  Then he turns back, body looming over yours.  He cups your cheek with one large hand, looking down at you with such heat that your breath hitches in your chest.

You lean into his touch, fingertips grazing the contour of his cock beneath his suit pants.  

“You promised to give me anything I want,” you whisper, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. He nods slowly, the rasp in his voice betraying the calm on his face.

“Anything.  Name it.”

“I want to take care of you,” you say, pulling the hem of his shirt out of his pants.  Your fingers work the buttons open, one by one.  “Let me.”

Hoseok exhales a heavy breath as you open his shirt and stroke your hands down his chest. You give yourself a moment to admire the lean strength of his body, fingers stroking over the metal tags that hang just above one dark, flat nipple.

His stomach tightens and his cock twitches in his pants when you tilt forward to press a soft kiss to the golden skin just above his belt.  You work it open with unsteady hands and his pants follow just a moment later.

“I want to make you feel good,” you whisper, nuzzling the outline of his length with your cheek.  You push his boxers down his slim hips just enough to expose the head of his cock.  “I don’t want you to think about anything but this.”

Hoseok groans when you flick your tongue against him.  

His cock throbs under your fingertips through the fabric of his underwear when you dip down to tease the head with your mouth.  You lap at the salty moisture gathered at the swollen tip and his head drops back.

“Sweetheart, please --” he grits out, hands reaching for your hair.  He winds his fingers through the strands and jerks when you rake your teeth across the wet ridge under the head of his cock. “-- don’t tease me.”

Some other time you might play the delayed gratification game with him.  You might take hours to torture him and keep him dangling at the precipice of pleasure.  Tonight, though -- the only thing you want to do is make him come so hard he can’t see straight.

“I won’t,” you promise sweetly, pulling the rest of his thick length free from his boxers to wrap your warm fingers around him.  You flick your gaze up to appreciate the way his head is tipped back in pleasure, lips parted.

“Look at me,” you murmur, pumping him with languid strokes.

His eyes are glassy with arousal when he opens them to gaze down at you.  You make sure he’s watching as you take him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you draw your mouth across his length.  He gathers your hair in his hands so he can appreciate the unobstructed view of your private show.

“No one gets to touch you anymore,” you whisper.  You take him down as far as you can again, tongue dragging against the thick vein that runs the length of his cock.  You are panting when you pull off him, tongue running the seam of your lower lip as you catch your breath.

“No one but me.”

Hoseok’s dick jerks in your hand in response, hand tightening in your hair as you lick a long stripe up his shaft.  He chokes out a moan as you lick at the sensitive spot just under the head of his cock, eyes fixed on his.

“No more,” he croaks.  

You pull your mouth away reluctantly, tongue swiping at the taste of him on your lips and the sight seems to set him off.  He grabs your face with both hands, groaning into your mouth as he claims it.

He pulls away, panting.

“Lie back,” he demands between breaths.  You comply without question.

Hoseok leans over you, arms braced on either side of your body as he drops his head down to take one nipple between his teeth.  Your hips jerk at the stimulation and you squirm underneath him, thighs slippery with your own excitement.  He laves at both nipples slowly, thoroughly, until they are aching and wet.  Then he trails a soft line of kisses back up to your ear.

“I want to taste what’s mine,” he whispers, and a pang of arousal hits you so hard you forget to breathe.  You lift your hips to help him pull your skirt away along with your soaked panties and he sinks to his knees on the floor in front of you. Every muscle in your body locks in anticipation.

Hoseok nudges your legs apart with his hands, placing gentle kisses along your inner thighs.  His dark eyes are half-hooded with pleasure by the time he drapes your legs over his shoulders.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” he groans when you are fully spread open for him.  He drops a kiss on your mound and your body jolts at the sensation, every nerve ending standing at attention.  He moves lower, long fingers tracing the outline of your swollen cunt and you suck in a breath.  

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, dipping one finger into your damp heat.  “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you choke out, hands gripping the sheets as his finger flexes inside of you.

“Only for you.”

Hoseok makes a sound of satisfaction deep in his chest before sealing his lips over your aching clit.  You shudder against his mouth when he pulls back to soothe you with the flat of his tongue.  “You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined how you would taste,” Hoseok groans, licking deeply into your wetness.  “It doesn’t even come close.  Nothing comes close to this.”

“Hoseok --”  your hands come off of the sheets to grip into his hair, “-- Hoseok, please don’t stop.”

Your senses are so heightened that just the pressure of the heel of his hand against your cunt is making you crazy.  His finger crooks deep inside you, stroking against your swollen walls while his lips and teeth toy with your clit.  You whine at the stimulation, at the wet drag of his tongue that has you writhing beneath him.

“You’re close sweetheart, I can hear it,” Hoseok’s voice is ragged with arousal. “Let me hear you.  Come for me.”

You clutch his hair between your fingers, moaning brokenly as the heat between your legs simmers to a boil.

“Hoseok --”

“That’s it,” he praises you with dirty words spoken in the sweetest way. “Let me taste you. Let me hear you.”

Hoseok is prepared the moment you come apart.

He grasps your hips firmly in those large, warm hands of his -- tongue and lips persistent as the live wire inside you tightens and snaps. The force of your orgasm shakes your entire body and leaves you begging and breathless. Hoseok savors every drop of your release until your hips sink back into the mattress and you protest weakly against the threat of overstimulation.

The mattress dips under you as Hoseok joins you on the bed, lips swollen with use and mouth marked with your taste.  His head dips into the hollow of your neck, nipping gently at the skin, while his fingers skate over the soft skin of your stomach and thighs.  

You shiver in his hold, closing your eyes for a moment to savor the feeling of his body on yours.

“I want to watch you come like that every day,” Hoseok whispers into your ear.  “Only for me.”

“Only for you,” you agree in a whisper, finding your voice after what seems like ages.  

You slip one hand between you, fingers wrapping firmly around the rigid cock pressed against your stomach.  Hoseok groans when you tighten your hand around him.

“Hoseok,” you breathe, feeling a pulse between your legs that seems to beat in time with the throb of his cock in your palm, “Fuck me please, I’m losing my mind.”

His hoarse chuckle sends a shiver up your spine as he moves to cover you completely with his body.  He lines up the head of his cock at your entrance and you tilt your hips up into his.  

“Please,” you plead again, lifting your head to brush your lips against his.  “Now.”

He sinks his cock into you slowly, inch by inch, groaning at the tight fit of your cunt around him.  The stretch inside of you is nearly too much -- you whimper when he bottoms out and he drops his forehead to yours.

“You okay? Am I hurting you?”

His entire body feels like a rubber band ready to snap -- coiled energy waiting to be released.  But he holds back the instinct to move until you nod your agreement.

“You feel so good,” you murmur, nudging his hips to move with your own.  You stroke your hands down the slick skin of his back.  “I’m so full right now.”

Hoseok swears under his breath as he tentatively rocks his hips against yours, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside of you.  You wrap your legs around him as the discomfort subsides and the only sensation that’s left is the pleasant pressure of his cock against your walls.

Hoseok’s hips move harder as your whimpers melt into moans.

“Dammit,” he swears, head dropping low between his shoulder blades.  “So tight and wet for me.  So perfect for me.”

You look up to take in the sight of his perfect face slack with pleasure, mouth parted and face flushed with exertion.  His dog tags hang from his neck, swaying as his hips begin to piston in earnest.  You pull on them to force his mouth close to yours.

“Only for you,” you whisper, “No one else.”

Hoseok’s steady rhythm stutters when you whisper those words into his mouth and press your lips to his.  His hips jerk wildly as his release races up his shaft.  He laces his fingers into yours, fucking you deep into the mattress in those final seconds as he loses all control to chasing his end.

He comes with your name on his lips.

************************

Hoseok breathes deeply into your hair as you stroke your fingers across the lean lines of his chest, fingers tracing the metal outline of his dog tags.  You lie together like that for a while, skin to skin.

Your thoughts are loud in the quiet.  

You’re used to the bitter sting of betrayal by now.  

Long before Lee Hyejin or Kang Donghyuk or Park Soo ever sold you out for a check, your own father betrayed you for the bottle.  You of all people know too well that most people aren’t to be trusted.

But then Hoseok’s fingers drag lightly across your back and they bring you back to the here and now -- back to the promise he made to you tonight.

“No one gets to hurt you anymore.”

And you decide to trust just one more time.

************************

@saintjeonofbusan @lemonjoonah @illnevertrustmyselfagain @sunkissed725 @taetaewonderland @shadowhale @sugaminyoonjiji @jinhitwhore @trust-me-im-joly @daydreambrliever @jjeonjoon @ultraanonymousey @yoon-bug @multistantrash17 @poohsaidhi @alyboo-jpeg @sahmfanficbts @yoongissugarmommy @ppersonna @p-polaroid @vi-hoshi @stressedinmedschool247 @jgissle12 @ctvrty @btsnatalena @strawbewymiwk @stephleee @jalexa83 @livanthi @fantasybangtan @trviahope​ @mono-kookie@hauntedlilies @sugasaidbultaoreune @yeojaa @secret-alphabets @hodginss@parkjimin-persona​

#hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #bts mafia au #hoseok mafia au #bts tsundere #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #ksmutclub #btscreatorscorner #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub

[springday-aus]

Hockey Player!AU with Mark

moodboard link

Group: NCT

Member: Mark Lee 

Genre: fluff, romance 

Additionally: college!au

Type: Bulletpoint AU

Word Count: approx. 2.3k 

→ Inspired by NCT U’s 90s Love! 

I’m gonna be completely honest: I don’t know shit about hockey so apologizes in advance

Mark is a left-winger for the team

he plays for his university’s team and they’re actually pretty good

within the three-ish years that he’s been on the team, they’ve won a couple of championships

it’s not really hard considering that Mark takes everything too seriously

(at least that’s what Donghyuk says during practice all the time)

Johnny somewhere: “okay Mark”

Yuta: “let’s not overreact Mark”

Taeyong: “leave my son alone”

Mark: “I’m a grown adult…”

Taeyong: “shhh”

since he used to play for his team back in hometown, he naturally joined the university’s team

he was a natural and everyone easily took a liking to him

especially since now they have someone to make fun of constantly

by they, I literally mean just Donghyuk

I’m just kidding—it’s all in good fun because it just shows how close they are

Mark is just that one college kid that’s still cute even when he’s not a freshman anymore

the other team members still treat him like the youngest even though YangYang and Sungchan are like

👁👄👁 hello ?

speaking of which, their teamwork is incredible and it shows through their games

and, on the rare occasions that they don’t win, they still have dinner together afterwards

well, it’s less of dinner and more of drinks and strategizing what went wrong—which are kind of depressing but it’s fine

at least that’s what Sicheng says as captain, but it sounds like denial

anyways, even though Ten is the co-captain, they all work to make their play plan together

they all contribute ideas, especially since they’ve been in the positions they’ve been in for, like, ever

anyways

again, Mark is like really good

so you know he got that bombass scholarship

and that’s what really pushes him to do well bc let’s be real, college is e x p e n s i v e

he also likes ice skating in general because the cold reminds him of home

so he’s one of those hockey players that also likes figures skaters and it’s funny because he gets so many weird looks from the others

(altho, Jeno goes with him sometimes bc he’s nice)

back to what I was saying tho: Mark is really good

despite his personality, he’s a bit more aggressive on the ice—considering he’s a forward

Donghyuk, the right-winger: he makes sense

there’s the passive aggressive-ness

Mark? who knew he had some strength to him when it’s actually applied

seriously, have you seen his thighs?

speaking of which, the team serves a lot of looks

which means a lot of speculators that show up to the games

which means lots of fans

people typically come for the looks, but then stay for the games bc the team is very underrated

they actually win games and everything but like

advertising for the team? nonexistent

@stupid college funding distributions that focus on mediocre sports like football

so, where do you fall into the mix? you’re an og stan

you’ve been in the stands since you entered university

it didn’t even have anything to do with the members (altho, it is nice to have some eye-candy)

you just……… like hockey

even if you don’t understand much about it

it’s just… interesting to watch

so, whenever the season rolls around, you go to the games

but to say over the years that you didn’t develop a particular attachment to our boy Mark…… is an absolute lie

so, do you have a crush on Mark?

yes

but also like

who doesn’t have a crush on Mark

this man is literally so talented and nice and adorable and he just makes you want to take care of him all the time and ugh

one of your friends went to a game with you and literally was just like “oh he’s cute”

You: “we know”

he’s def one of those guys who everyone has or has had a crush on at some point

and you are no different

the thing is that you are fine with not ever confessing because you’re happy with just being on the sidelines because you’ve. literally. just been on the sidelines…

the idea of confessing feels ridiculous bc realistically, what would you mean to some guy that literally e v e r y person has a crush on?

the thing is though is that Mark knows you

at least, he knows of your presence

if he didn’t, it would be embarrassing considering that you come to every game - he’s got loyalty unless some people

Ten: “who?”

Mark: “dude”

Donghyuk: “is this another one of your imaginary friends?”

Mark: “I TOLD YOU THAT IN CONFIDENCE”

jkjk , they all kind of know you, considering you’re one of the more consistent faces since they’ve been playing in these games (primarily the home ones bc free tickets for students but still)

you also don’t paint your face or anything—you just show up in your university sweatshirt with a couple of those foam light up sticks or something

again, not that wild like signs with his face or anything

you’re just…. a spectator

but yeah, Mark knows of you as a loyal fan ?

who also is kind of cute when you’re cheering for them

I want to emphasize that you have gone to, like, nearly every game, but the main ones you’ve *always* have gone to are the home games bc they’re more convenient

or the final games bc hello

they’re the finals, why the fuck would you miss the finals

I emphasize this because, when you’ve suddenly gone down with the flu, you literally cannot make it to the finals championship game

you thought: no one was gonna notice your absence anyways

haha, you thought

anyways

your friends figured you were sick from the beginning and were like, my friend, it’s flu season, stay away from me and pls stay at home

(wash your hands kids, it’s still covid season)

so you didn’t go and stayed in and binged watched iCarly or something

meanwhile, during the game, Mark was like

where... where are you???

so homeboy is highkey distracted and lowkey worried bc did you die???

(you were dying bc of your clogged nostrils, but otherwise, no)

they somehow managed to win by a couple of points so it was kind of fine

but the teasing was increased by all of Mark’s friends

i.e. Johnny, Donghyuk, Jaehyun, and everyone else

come on, it’s so easy to make fun of him

but like he doesn’t care about any of it bc he was worried about you

which got him thinking

why is he worried about someone whose name he doesn’t even know? is there something more? why is there something more? he literally doesn’t know you? except that you come to the games and you’re really cute cheering him on? what is this?

you know, ✨just Mark things✨

this bothered him for quite a bit more than he liked to admit

and it’s about a couple of days later

things are normal and you don’t feel like everything is dripping out of your nose

until you’re walking through campus from your class

and there’s some footsteps running from behind you that makes you coil up into a semi-standing ball bc you thought a bunch of frat boys were just excited or some shit

but then the footsteps stop at you and you’re standing there, wide-eyed

in front of an out of breath Mark

he was walking out of his class with Jaemin and he spotted you from across the quad

and immediately ran to you

Jaemin: I was talking but okay

this isn’t about you Jaemin

anyways

Mark is in front of you, panting and you’re just like sir?

You: “how are you out of breath? aren’t you an athlete?”

Mark: “oh my God, you’re just like Donghyuk”

you give him a bit of time (and some water bc he seemed like he needed it)

and once he’s caught his breath, he stands up and blurts it out

Mark: “what happened to you during the championship?”

You: “....................... what?”

seeing you blink at him confused, he can feel his ears reddening when he’s realized the situation he’s put himself into

Mark: “um, I just”

Mark: “I noticed that you weren’t at the game”

You: still confused bc how does he know about you

You: “huh?”

Mark: oh my God this is the wrong person, want to die

Mark: “you know what, I have the wrong person, I’m just gonna bounce I am so sorry—”

he starts backing up, but you aren’t letting him escape

You: “whoawhoawhoawhoawhoa, hold up hold up”

You: “I didn’t even know that you knew that I knew you”

You: “wait, did you run here just to ask me that?”

Mark is full on flushed at this point bc of all the questions and realizations and it’s all crashing down on him all too soon

and now you have this mischievous look in your eyes that remind him of Ten when he’s clowning Doyoung and he feels like he’s made a mistake

a good mistake but still a mistake

You: “is it?”

Mark: “well, you like, show up to all of our games and you didn’t go to the finals so I didn’t know if anything happened”

You: “oh, I got sick and I figured I shouldn’t be going into giant crowds while having my insides die internally”

You: “but, I did hear from my friends, congrats btw”

Mark: “thanks”

Mark: “are you feeling better tho?”

You: “yeah, but like, my throat is still kind of shitty”

Mark: “oh, if you want, I have a couple of friends who might be able to cook something up for your throat”

Mark: “I’d offer to make something, but Kun doesn’t let me in the kitchen anymore after finding out about the egg incident”

You: “the egg incident?”

Mark: “I can’t cook, like. at all.”

You: “I think I’m good, I was just gonna go get some tea to make it less scratchy or something”

Mark: “I can walk you?”

You: “sure”

so you two go to a cafe or something for you to get some warm tea and you two end up talking and you get to know each other a bit

and then you end up trading numbers and you make some time together

since Mark doesn’t have to go to practice until the next season, his time has opened up considerably

sometimes you study together

other times, you go check out some other places nearby campus

(eventually, you did get to try Taeyong, Jaehyun, and Kun’s food, to which there was no turning back at that point bc they make the best kind of food—free)

you’re basically dating at this point and his friends know you as his significant other so

Chenle: “is (Y/N) gonna be here?”

Mark: “no? it’s our movie night”

Donghyuk: “aren’t you dating tho?”

Mark: “what”

he told you he took it casually and cool, but considering how red his ears were getting when he told you………………. cute

Mark: “c-can you believe they thought we were dating?”

You: “is that not what we’re doing?”

Mark: “what?”

you both established your relationship after that and Mark got a lot more shy and it’s super adorable bc it makes you wanna take care of him and ugh

he’s precious okay

also cut to him trying to ask the other guys for advice, but then he gets embarrassed as Johnny and Ten tries to educate him about love

or how Lucas gives him cheesy lines to use on you

these boys are having a field day and Xiaojun and Doyoung have never felt more at peace

anyways

def the nervous type that he can’t even hold your hand and keeps asking if it’s okay

so you’re the top of this relationship bc he’s a shy lil boy

after a bit tho, he gets more comfortable and it’s great

he’ll get teased often right? when it happens in front of you, he just runs to you with a whine of your name and buries his face into your neck

and you end up yelling at someone

it’s cute tho

bc they def see you both as an adorable couple

when the hockey season starts rolling around again, you def spend more time at the practices—whether you’re there to watch, do your homework, or just help motivate him to play better

you started dressing up more too, especially since he gave you his jersey so you started wearing them to the games (and also face paint bc Jungwoo had some extra for an unknown reason)

and you make Mark Lee signs and it’s super cute

Sicheng also invites you to the afterparty dinners bc why not

also, remember that thing I said about watching figure skaters?

you two watch the Olympics for that and it’s like tradition now for you two to settle in front of the tv with snacks and watch them skate

so, since he’s an athlete, he has to be careful with his body bc then like scholarship will go poof

that means some of your dates might be physically limited

like he’ll go mini-golfing with you, but he can’t go to like self-defense classes with you

he’ll go to support you but if his foot gets busted, his coach and the rest of the team will be on his ass and he feels a bit bad about it but like you understand

considering that you absolutely refuse to get on the ice bc hockey is hard people

speaking of hockey, you told Mark he’s hot when he plays and he was FLUSHED

bc like the look in his eyes and the way he carries himself…. reminds you of when you’re doing some more………...steamy activities

anyways, stan Mark Lee

he’s a sweetheart who works so hard and you’re there to provide him with lots of love

#admin grandma #grandma aus #aus #fluff #kpop #kpop aus #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #nct #nct mark #nct u #nct 127 #nct dream #nct aus #nct imagines #nct scenarios #mark lee #mark aus #mark imagines #mark scenarios #hockey player!au #hockey player!mark #hockey player!mark lee #group: nct #member: mark lee

[prettywordsyouleft]

Too Late

Prompt: “I wasn’t meant to find this, was I?” -- @challengingwords​ prompt #34

Pairing: Kim Hanbin x female reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: aside from being an emotionally driven angst piece, self-worth issues and lack of communication.

Word count: 676

You jumped with fright when you turned on the lights and found Hanbin sitting on the couch. “Jesus Christ, are you trying to put me in an early grave?”

There was no response, and you frowned, placing your bag down on the entryway table and stepped into your apartment you shared with your boyfriend. Approaching him, you grew concerned when he didn’t look up at you. “Hanbin?”

It was then when you saw the papers he held within his hands, your legs giving way underneath you.

“I wasn’t meant to find this, was I?” he asked in a voice unlike his own. Tears had sprung up in your eyes as he finally stared at you, his own expression strained. “Were you going to tell me about this on the day you left?!”

The truth was, you had been scared to tell him. Things between you and Hanbin had been too easy. Loving Hanbin and living with him was effortless. And in your experience, you had to work hard for everything you achieved.

There was a small part of you that considered Hanbin was your reward for your endless endurance. That there was finally something, someone good in your world after years of pain and suffering. You hadn’t believed you were worthy of love, even self-love was a hard concept for you to practice.

And yet, here you were a year into your relationship with Hanbin, and he had made you feel like he could pluck the stars out of the heavens if you requested him to.

At first, you were excited to share the news of your new job with your partner. This was a huge deal for you, something that you had dreamed for as long as you could remember. You had bought a bottle of champagne on the way home that night from work, ready to pop the cork and the news as soon as you got inside.

And then he had mentioned how his friend Donghyuk was struggling with his partner being overseas for work. Hanbin told you how hard it would be to be separated from you and how grateful he was to not have to worry as his friend was.

So you hid the celebration behind your back, vaguely humming in answer when Hanbin asked if you’d had a nice day.

Since then, you’d been trying to find the right time, except you never felt it arrive.

And now you were out of time altogether.

“How long have you known? Since you signed this contract two months ago or even earlier?” he asked, and you tried to clear your throat to answer, but another lump rose into the place of the last one. Your head hung low, your tears scattering over your lap in an uneven pattern.

Hanbin got up then, lording over you for a moment. You expected him to yell, to get angrier than he seemed. However, he let out a hoarse sob and your eyes travelled up to find his. He didn’t quite meet your gaze. “Had you told me about this sooner I could have made arrangements with work. I could have come with you. I could have, we could have…”

“We still can,” you feebly suggested, scooting forward and reached up for him. “Hanbin, I’m sorry. I just got scared about losing you, and I know I should have told you but-”

Hanbin held up the plane ticket confirmation attached to the contract. “You’re leaving in two weeks for a place halfway around the world for three years. How the fuck am I meant to deal with this knowledge?!”

“I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“You left it too late to tell me, is what you did. What do I even mean to you?”

“The world,” you pleaded, standing up and grappling onto his hands. They shook within your grip and felt as if they were too unstable to get a firm hold of.

Your world was crumbling.

Hanbin shook his head. “If I meant that much, you would have told me by now.”

_________________

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[babiesdreams]

Superhuman +18 Chapter 1 [127]

Warnings: mentions of: blood, rape, traumas, gore (kind of)

Jungwoo’s story:

It’s always been in my blood, but I wasn’t aware of it at first. Maybe I should have noticed in the way my anger came out like a power bust sometimes. Maybe people around me should have noticed before. But now is too late to feel sorry about things.

It isn’t something bad to take advantage of your situations, to help your relatives, It shouldn’t be bad. 

The police’s siren marked the rythm of my heartbeats, but I tried to stay calmed, there was nothing suspicious about a young adult driving his car a few miles /metres away from a recently robbed bank. Not even if they cassually had a bag with a million dollars on the backseat. 

“Can I talk to you sir?” A tall policeman says tapping on my car’s window. “Yes” I politely reply, while I rolled the window down just enough for him to hear me. “Can we inspect your car? There’s been a robbery near by and we wanted to make sure-” My foot quickly stepped over throttle, to start driving through the busy streets. 

My mind was too focused on not driving into other cars that I almost forgot about my powers. After driving through three streets, I stopped the car completely, concentrating like I practiced. Everyone and everything freezed around me. Everything stopped, except me. 

I took my time to escape, as I had literally all the time on my hands. I was so scared of what could happen to me that I simply kept the world on pause for a whole month. Hours, days the all went through like nothing. 

I only stopped because my headaches were getting worse every minute, the pain was way too much to take, so I had to stop using my powers for a while. They eventually got me, and took me to prison, but luckily I could give the money to my family first. I hope they all can enjoy the life they deserved now.

I really hope so.

Taeyong’s story:

It’s always been a curse to me. I never felt normal, I was never normal I guess. I first noticed when I was five. My mom told me I was the best thing that happened to her, and the images passed through my head.

I was a product of a rape, and she tried her best to abort me, but it was too late, and then she just got used to it. She lost her job because of me, and all her friends left her. We moved to a new city and bills were trapping us in. I got to know that when I was only five.

Since then, I could always know when someone lied to me. I thought it was a stupid power, useless and harmful for myself, but it turned out to be harmful for others as well.

Knowing secrets is powerful, much more than what I thought. I got out a job because I knew the boss was cheating on his wife. I got a promotion because I knew a workmate was stealing stuff from the office.

I worked hard since I was fifteen to get to where I am, and I’m not gonna risk it all for a stupid project. I wasn’t gonna, but they have my mother, so I’m here to tell the truth. 

Yuta’s story:

When you’re like me, people misunderstand a lot of things. I was diagnosed with TDAH when I was three. Doctors said I lives a fast life, and that I should relax. They were simply wrong.

I live my life in between pills, xannys and all sorts of medication. But that shit only stops my body, my brain still works an 180% faster than the average human brain. My Iq was qualified as “untestable” and I’ve lives in labs my whole life.

Doctors wanted to figure out what caused my “disease” and they never stopped testing me. 

So I plotted an escape plan on a free hour I had. I faked eating the pills so that I could take back some of my physical speed, and then I left the lab, as fast as I could. When they realized I was out, I was already exactly 10.000 km away from them.

But I didn’t realize how freedom would get me lost, unpathed and really pityful. So I ended up taking drugs, which actually helped me getting some of my brain speed out, and be free of my own thoughts for a while. But drugs led me to a shameful path full of crimes.

Dongyoung’s story:

I’ve always lived apart from other humans. I was trapped into a jail, where the experimented with me. I never saw another human, not that I remembered. Everyone was so scared of my power I guess.

Nobody likes to be manipulated, but it’s something I couldn’t control. They made me believe I was a monster and I acted upon that. I never wanted to be harmful. But do you know how it feels to feel what others feel?

I get to feel others feelings constantly and they all get mixed up, and there’s so much anger in this world, and sometimes I can’t control that anger.

So yeah, maybe I manipulate people, but they made me feel bad first it’s just fair. I don’t want to feel this either.

When I escaped, everyone was too scared of me, I had to turn that into something less harmful, like, like exhaustion. I made them fall asleep, but I didn’t think about the consequences it all may have. 

So when I felt overwhelmed... well you know what happened... I also felt their sadness, the way their souls got out of their bodies, the way they cried their lungs out. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.

So I came here to learn how to control this.

Taeil’s story:

My powers came like something to be grateful for. My family were farmers, and the business kept going down. I still got the motivation to kept the farm going, and helping my family over the hardships of summer. 

I don’t even know how it happened. I guess I just grabbed a bunch of rotten tomatoes and picture them to be the best vegetables I could imagine, and It changed, taking the form I had in my head.

Of course I didn’t tell my parents how I got the perfectly looking vegetables and fruits, but it saved the business, and I kept on doing it until I realized it waisted too much of my energy. 

I want to make sure I can keep this going for more time until we get better, so I want to know how to improve with my powers.

Jaehyun’s story:

Transforming is never easy you know? The way I have to shape my body into something new and different from my original form, is not easy at all. I can transform myself into other humans, animals and even objects. 

It causes my body to get stiff sometimes, and even if the things I transform into are a perfect copy of reality they have certain limits. Human limits I guess. 

I remember this one time I turned into a plane, to escape from a robbery we did at a famous bank, it was kind of epic, but I ended up crashing into the ocean half way. 

The rest is kind of history, everyone knows me and my mate. Rest in peace. But now I want to take a good turn and use my powers for good.  That’s why I came here. But I must say I think I have what it’s needed to be a leader, so if we need a lead I think I can do it.

Mark’s story:

Okay so I was in middle school when this happened. I was too angry at my classmates, because they were always you know bullying me. So the thought came out of nowhere and I was just looking at the boy, and then his nose started bleeding a lot. 

I thought it was just a coincidence, until I bumped into that guy. Yo he was raping a girl, and I got too angry and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know his veins would explode like that. 

He bleed out in front of my eyes, I will never forget how life escaped his eyes. But the girl kept saying I was a hero so I thought it wasn’t that bad you know. I had the good luck that I was wearing a costume for my theatre classes. 

Media named me as the bomb hero. They thought I used some sort of inner bombs, I don’t know honestly. I just want to control myself to have a normal life for once. 

Johnny’s story:

I thought they were healing powers at first. My mother was at the hospital when I first noticed. I wanted her to get back to normal, and I guess I did. The thing is that I have to know exactly what I want to do to the body.

I knew my mother needed that cancer out so I just pictured it out(? I don’t know how to explain I just did it and she got back at her normal self instantly. 

But It is also harmful, like my brother Mark, I can make organs and veins explode, or modify them as I want, tho I’mm better at healing.

We came here together because we wanted to live as a family, without feeling weird or different. And I feel like we can get that in here.

Donghyuck’s story:

I discovered my powers a week ago but you already know that, you also probably know that I’m the most powerful out everyone here, so I don’t get the point of sharing my story when you literally recruited me. 

972: Lee Donghyuk, it’s a formal aspect we all agreed on, please do as you were told.

The robotic voice resounds all over the room, provocking me to sigh. “Fine. You want to know what I do?” I say, concentrating for a second, before I make the gravity dissappear on the said room. Everyone started to float in the air as I kept my feet on the ground. 

Then gravity came back, when I stopped controlling it, making them all fall into the ground. 

“You didn’t have to do that asshole” Jaehyun said in the distance, and I smiled to his stupid expression. “There’s no point in this anyway” I say, but everything turned a weird shade of blue fastly.

972: Welcome to the unit 127, you have been selected to the protection unit, you will be assigned with daily missions around the world that you will have to accomplish. I will always be watching your actions and if you go against the companies policies, we will inform the police to take you away. As long as you are here you are protected. 972 will always look after you.

“Are you like us?” Mark asked from the distance. The robotic voice answered a yes, that felt odd for everyone, but Taeyong started speaking the truth “She is more powerful than us and she’s leggit. Also she’s hiding behind that wall” The boy speaked calmly. 

Jaehyun turned into one of the security guards body, breaking the glass that was covering the misterious girl with a stong punch. Her soft and calmed expression got us all. She got out of the cage she was in gently, supporting herself on one of the guard’s hand. 

“You didn’t have to break that” She says calmly, repairing the broken mirror like nothing. The pieces slowy got back to place, like nothing had happened, at all. “I trust your ability of keeping secrets from now on, Lee Taeyong” her voice said calmly to the boy who simply nodded.

And like that she left the room, leaving us behind with all sorts of doubts. But I guess that’s how 972 worked, always wanting to keep the misterious atmosphere.

------------------------------------------------------

This is like a character introductions sorta so be patient for more parts pleaseee

Masterlist --requests open-- How to request?  Check out your score.

#nct #nct scenarios #nct imagine #nct reactions #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop reactions #kpop scenario #nct superhero au #superhero #hero #superhuman #nct 127 #nct127 #nct 127 blurbs #nct 127 reactions #nct blurb #kpop blurb #nct blurbs #series

[kpopmalereader]

happy, pt.2 ; jung chanwoo

• summary: happy, pt.2 • pairing: jung chanwoo x male!reader • word count: 1644 • to do

happy ; pt.1, pt.2

“Group meeting,” Chanwoo answers before anyone asks. “That’s why I’m here, I want to have a group meeting.”

He managed to catch everyone in the living room. A small box-fan whirs on the coffee table, Chanwoo clicks the speed lower and pushes it to the back edge of the table. The tension grows with every pace Chanwoo takes as everyone else in the room pretends to relax.

Chanwoo stops pacing after a few minutes and stands behind the table. He picks at the peeling paint on the fan as he talks. “I want to talk about my boyfriend.”

“Chanwoo,” Hanbin starts.

Chanwoo holds his hand up to stop him. “Just listen.”

They seem to be paying attention to him, he can’t tell if their focus is a good or bad thing.

“Y/N is a good person. You don’t know anything about him because you choose not to know anything about him. I’ve tried to tell you about him and every time I’ve mentioned him one of you rants and raves about how bad of a person he is.” Chanwoo pushes his hair back.

The plan Chanwoo is carefully concocting in his mind shakes and wobbles but waking up to your beautiful face, watching your glasses slide down the bridge of your nose as you concentrate on new designs, the effortless charisma that exudes from you as you pour and mix drinks at the bar, Chanwoo’s want for you to be close to his friends, to have his favorite people know and enjoy being around each other. Those things are enough to push his hastily made plan into the spotlight.

Chanwoo repeats. “He’s a good person. He’s an amazing artist, he’s fiercely protective, he takes care of his family, sends them money, calls any family he can as much as he can, he gets upset if I stay out too late, he checks my temperature every hour if he even hears a cough, he’s such a good person. His job, being covered in tattoos, those aren’t good enough reasons for you to judge him like you have. How many times have you guys asked to meet him? I don’t think I’ve heard any of you ask about him, meanwhile, he asks about you, wants to meet you, listens intently anytime I mention you.”

Nobody makes direct eye contact with Chanwoo and he continues.

“I want you to meet him today.” Chanwoo crosses his arms, shaking his head when expressions of disagreement appear. “I don’t want any questions or objections. I need you to meet him, see who he really is. I know you’re going to end up liking him. You’re meeting him, today. I want you to see where he works, how he is, who he is. It’s not up for question, everyone in the car.”

*

“Chanwoo!” The receptionist leans forward, pulling her headphones off. “We’re not supposed to be taking any walk-ins today, but I would be willing to give you a piercing or two without putting it on the books.”

Chanwoo shakes his head. “Is Y/N still with his client?”

“Do you want me to go tell him you’re here? See how long it’ll be?”

“Yes, thank you.”

The receptionist walks into the backroom. Bobby walks to one of the walls, looking at the tattoo designs and pictures tacked on the wall. Chanwoo looks over at him and points at a specific picture on the wall.

“That was Y/N’s first big tattoo he did alone. He worked on a bunch of smaller tattoos, working his way up, working with the other artists, but the person that one is on. Austin, I think his name was. He thought Y/N’s work and drawings were amazing and asked him to do this huge piece across his back. It’s still the biggest piece Y/N has ever done.”

“He drew it himself?” Bobby asks, inspecting the big picture and the smaller ones circling it.

“Did everything himself. Austin is like a tattoo aficionado. His word in the business is a big one and after he finished the tattoo, Austin spread his name around. Now he’s a huge name in the business and people beg for appointments and seating at all hours.”

The receptionist returns and sits back in her seat. “And when we open the all-day walk-ins we have lines going down the block. He’s made himself a big name, people come from all around.”

Junhoe and Yunhyeong look at the different piercings while Jinhwan joins Bobby looking at the different tattoo options. Donghyuk and Hanbin join Chanwoo in the middle of the room.

“What’s that?” Donghyuck points to a gumball-machine in the corner.

“They are tattoo vending machines.” Chanwoo points to one end of the room. “They start at fifteen dollars and go all the way to one hundred dollars. You pay, turn the dial, whatever design you get, you get it tattooed.”

Your client walks out of the closed room, smiling at Chanwoo and the receptionist as they walk out.

“Hey Chanwoo.” The client grabs a package of bandages from the front desk. “You thinking about getting anything?”

Chanwoo scrunches his nose. “No, I don’t think so. Is that your last appointment?”

“Yep, left arm down, now to work on the right. It’s a shame Y/N gets booked so far out, he’s one of the best.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Chanwoo smiles. “If you can tell my friends here how good of a tattoo artist and person Y/N is, I will put in a good word for you.”

Everyone begins to pay attention to the client and they pull their sleeve up. They slowly rotate their arm, pointing out a few tattoos.

“Well, you can see for yourself how talented he is. He’s my go-to artist and added a free nose piercing for being a ‘frequent flyer’.” The client nods his head and lets his sleeve fall. “And as for personality, he is wonderful. He gives amazing advice, he knows when someone needs to talk, he put in a good word for me at his old bar, and even though he left and started that new place the managers liked him enough to trust him. Speaking of that bar though,”

“Yeah, thank you.” Hanbin smiles and nods his head. The client walks out. “We get it, Chanwoo.”

“No. I want you to hear about him, meet him.”

“But you don’t need to corner someone who he stabs with a needle thousands of times.” Jinhwan shakes his head. “We’ll meet him, but you don’t need to ask everyone he knows about it.”

You step out of the tattoo room, stretching your shoulders out. You smile down the hallway at Chanwoo, spitting a piece of gum into the trashcan. Chanwoo waves you down and you straighten your back. You take a deep breath before walking down the hallway, a hopeful and friendly smile on your face.

“Hello,”

“What kind of bird is this?” Junhoe asks. You raise your eyebrows and look at the drawing he’s pointing to. “This one, do you know what kind it is?”

Your eyes light up. “Chickadee.”

Junhoe nods with an appreciative grin. “It’s on the wall a few times, and in a few of the books. Why?”

You scratch the back of your head, Chanwoo can see your ears going red. “I had a mentor when I first got into art and tattooing, he was obsessed with animals and symbolism, especially birds. He had a big tattoo of an albatross. Albatross are said to be teachers, they guide you, challenge you. He said I was a chickadee.”

“What’s the symbolism of-”

Chanwoo answers for you. “Unfathomable positivity, courage. Surrounded and loved by good people, I check those two boxes. Trusting, always willing to listen and offer help.”

You clear your throat and move on as your face becomes redder and redder. “Since then, I’ve wanted a chickadee tattoo. I draw them whenever I’m upset or need to take my mind off of things. But because of how much I want one, I can never pin down a style or place that feels perfect. I’ll probably end up tattooing twenty on myself.”

“You can do that?” Yunhyeong asks. He repeats. “Tattoo on yourself?”

You nod and show a spot on the back of your wrist. “This was the first time I worked with glow-in-the-dark ink, wanted to test everything out on myself first.” You pull your shirt up to show your inner forearm, another on your other hand. “I’ve got a few on my legs too. It’s an easy way to practice and fight off boredom.”

“How bored can you be? Don’t you work two jobs?” Jinhwan asks.

“I do. I work here during the day and then most nights I work at the bar.” You shrug, bumping shoulders with Chanwoo as you turn to the door. “I don’t like sitting still.”

“Do you own the bar? Your last appointment said you opened the place.” Hanbin’s eyebrows pull down in question.

You nod slowly. “I do. Me and two of my friends opened it when I graduated.”

“He got his four-year degree early, finished his tattoo apprenticeship, and opened a bar in the span of a few months.” Chanwoo brags. “Then met me and his life got even better.”

“I’m not arguing.” You smile. “It was stressful for a while but it’s very rewarding. I can be a CEO when I want, I can be bartender, give very affordable tattoos without worrying about paying rent.”

Chanwoo smiles at Hanbin as the other guys ask you more questions. “So?”

“He seems nice. He has a stable job. He’s been watching you out of the corner of his eye, he seems to care for you.”

“I could have told you that without forcing you to come here.” Chanwoo joins you and rolls his eyes at some of the questions. “I think they like you.”

#ikon #kpop #kpop scenario #ikon x reader #male reader #ikon imagine #ikon scenario #chanwoo #jung chanwoo #kpop male reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #ikon male reader #chanwoo x reader #chanwoo x male reader #chanwoo x male!reader #jung chanwoo x reader #jung chanwoo x male reader #jung chanwoo x male!reader

[noona-clock]

The Doctor - Part 6, Final Chapter

Genre: Doctor!AU

Pairing: Donghyuk (iKON) x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 | Words: 2,960

You stared at Donghyuk.

Had he... I mean, had he really just said that?

The words “I would like you to be more than a friend” had really just come out of his mouth?

Apparently, you were staring at him too long for comfort because Donghyuk shifted his gaze down to the floor and said, “I’m sorry. I really don’t want to ruin --”

“No,” you interjected, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible even though you were hasty to correct him. Claire was still in the other room, after all, and if she heard the two of you talking about this...

But you still had to talk about it. Obviously. You had to tell him!

“No -- I... I feel the same way,” you said.

Donghyuk had looked up at you when you’d first interrupted him, and when you confessed your own feelings in return, a smile sprang onto his lips that melted your heart in about half a second.

“I just -- after yesterday...” you murmured, starting to wring your hands together anxiously. “I always told myself I wouldn’t jump into anything, for Claire’s sake. You never know what someone is truly like -- and I didn’t want her to get attached and then -- but, I mean, you’re a pediatrician, for goodness’ sake. I know you like kids, and you’re so good with her -- no, but -- I don’t like you just because you’re good with my daughter. I like you because... when I’m with you, I feel -- I feel like I’m... home.”

Had you any idea just seconds ago that you were going to say that? Absolutely not.

But was it untrue? Absolutely not.

Donghyuk took a step closer to you, and just like he had yesterday, he reached over and pried one of your nervous hands away from the other. But this time, instead of simply holding it to comfort you, he cradled your hand in both of his and brought it up to his lips, placing a quick, delicate kiss on your knuckles.

“That’s exactly how I feel,” he said quietly. “Being with you just feels... right.”

You truly couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this weak in the knees.

You nodded in agreement, finding you could only let out a whispered ‘yeah’ in reply.

And then Donghyuk looked up at you with hopeful eyes and an adorably attractive smirk. “So... can I take you out on a date?”

You let out a bashful chuckle, feeling your cheeks warm with slight embarrassment, but before you could say ‘yes’ -- before you could even say anything -- Claire appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Yes!” she cried, wide-eyed and beaming. “Yes! You can take her on ten thousand dates!”

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from bursting out laughing, and you closed your eyes for a moment. When you opened them again to look at your daughter, she was still standing there with that look of joyful anticipation.

“Thank you, Claire,” you said, knowing you were doing a horrible job of not sounding amused. And when you looked back at Donghyuk standing in front of you, you saw an expression on his face to match exactly how you felt. “...But, yes, she’s right.”

Claire, unsurprisingly, whooped for joy and ran to the two of you, colliding with both of your legs.

“Careful!” both you and Donghyuk cried at the same time. Donghyuk instantly reached down to protect her cast, and you let out a breathless chuckle.

“How about we eat dinner now?” you suggested with a wry smile.

While Claire took her ravioli back into the living room to continue watching her Barbie movie, you and Donghyuk sat down at the kitchen table to enjoy your pasta there. You were slightly afraid things would be awkward now that your feelings were out in the open but you hadn’t even gone on an official date yet, but Donghyuk did an impressive job at leaving no room for awkwardness.

He asked you about your day, listening intently to your work woes and your foiled plans for the evening (though you made sure to promise him you weren’t mad about how things had turned out in the end), and then he returned with an account of his own day. Apparently, one kid (who he refused to name, probably because you most certainly knew the parents) had gotten a coin stuck up his nose -- thankfully, that was the most eventual appointment he’d had.

All during your meal, Donghyuk found small ways to touch you. He would briefly rest his hand on your knee underneath the table if you said something amusing. He would reach out and nudge your arm when he asked you a question. He even insisted you try some of his baked spaghetti so he could feed the bite to you.

To be honest, Donghyuk had even been quite affectionate as a friend. He had hugged you, rubbed your back, squeezed your shoulder -- multiple times!

But now it felt different. Was it just because you were unofficially in a relationship now? Probably. But knowing that didn’t make your heart any less jumpy.

When both of your plates were clean, Donghyuk insisted on cleaning up, shooing you into the living room with Claire and assuring you he would join you in just a minute.

“...You’re sure?” you asked with raised eyebrows. “She’s watching Barbie in there, you don’t have to --”

“I don’t care,” he chuckled. “As long as I get to be with you both, it doesn’t matter what we do or what we watch. That’s always been true.”

...You wanted to kiss him right then and there. And you honestly almost did, but you held back. Barely.

“Okay,” you murmured, suppressing a grin. And before you gave in and just went ahead and kissed him, you turned away from the kitchen table and headed in to join your daughter.

Apparently, Claire was too engrossed in the movie to notice when you entered the room because she didn’t tear her eyes away from the television -- not even for a second. But she did lean into you after you plopped down next to her on the sofa, burrowing into your side and letting out a very relaxed hum. You put your arm around her shoulders, pressed your lips against the top of her head, and wondered how you could be so lucky.

And then Donghyuk joined you a couple of minutes later, and you wondered it all over again.

He repeated your actions from two minutes ago almost exactly: he plopped down next to you on the sofa and moved to lay his arm on top of the cushion behind you. If Claire wasn’t nestled against you, you would’ve leaned into his side and let him kiss the top of your head.

“What’s the movie about?” he whispered, leaning in close to you even though his question was very clearly for Claire.

Of course, Claire perked up, instantly answering him with a long and detailed -- but rambling -- narration of what had happened in the movie so far. She even spouted some dialogue in her best imitations of the characters. It was incredibly endearing -- and so was Donghyuk’s reaction to her.

He listened the same way he’d listened to you tell him about your day at the dinner table, even throwing in some oohs and oh boys as she spoke.

He really was just the cutest man ever, wasn’t he?

Yes. Yes, he was.

As the three of you settled into a comfortable silence, you found yourself gradually sinking back into the sofa... and into Donghyuk’s side. First, your shoulder brushed against his arm behind you. Then, your knee rested gently against his. Eventually, your head found its way to the crook of his neck.

A smile tugged at your lips when you felt him press his cheek to the top of your head, and you relaxed completely, feeling fully at ease even though your heart and stomach were filled with butterflies.

After several minutes in this position -- you cuddled up to Donghyuk as Claire cuddled up to you -- you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining this exact picture in the future. You couldn’t stop yourself from wondering how many times the three of you would be on the sofa like this, which movies you would watch during your cuddle train, how much your positions would either change or stay the same.

You found it was actually far too easy to picture your future with Donghyuk, actually. Far too easy, and far too wonderful.

About Two Years Later

It was weird coming back to an empty house.

Over the past year or so since you and Claire had moved in with Donghyuk, you couldn’t remember ever coming home to a completely empty house. Especially after the three of you had adopted a dog (whom Claire had dubbed Serafina and Donghyuk lovingly called “Fifi”), at least one member of your family had always been there to greet you when you’d arrived home.

It was just weird not to hear any playful yips or any “Hi, Mommy!” 

“It’s so quiet,” Donghyuk said when he came in behind you, carrying all of your luggage.

You quickly moved out of his way so he could take everything upstairs to your shared bedroom, reaching out and rubbing his back as he passed you.

“I know, I was just thinking how weird it is,” you replied.

As Donghyuk -- your husband, and you wondered just how long it would take you to get used to thinking about him like that -- headed down the hallway to the stairs, you made your way to the fridge to get out a snack for the two of you once he joined you again. It had been a few hours since you’d eaten the mini bag of pretzels and the packet of cookies on the plane, and if your stomach was rumbling, Donghyuk’s surely was, too.

Your fridge was fairly empty since nobody had been living here for a whole week -- Claire and Serafina had been staying with your parents -- and basically the only choice of snack you had was two of Claire’s chocolate pudding cups. Not ideal since you and Donghyuk had eaten a lot of (incredibly delicious) food for just about every meal on your honeymoon this past week, but it would have to do until you went grocery shopping later today.

Or tomorrow. You were pretty exhausted from traveling even though you had just spent almost seven full days relaxing with your new husband -- nope, still not used to it.

After grabbing two spoons from the utensil drawer, you shuffled into the living room and plopped down onto the sofa, lifting your legs to rest your heels on the coffee table.

Donghyuk joined you just a few minutes later, and you held the unopened pudding cup out to him. “It was all we had,” you explained before he could comment.

A half-smile quirked his lips as he took the cup and spoon from you, and then he let out a long, deep sigh as he fell onto the sofa next to you. Since it was just the two of you -- no child or dog to steal your attention -- Donghyuk moved to lay down, resting his head in your lap and letting his legs dangle over the armrest.

The two of you ate your pudding in companionable silence -- and, again, you honestly weren’t sure if the house had ever been this quiet since you’d moved in -- and once you’d finished and set your empty cup on the coffee table, you leaned back and began to comb through Donghyuk’s hair in your lap.

You were content to simply sit here, resting your head back against the sofa, closing your eyes, and daydreaming about the honeymoon, about Claire coming back home, about your life returning to normal -- all while lazily running your fingers through your husband’s hair.

You hadn’t been this relaxed since... well, probably yesterday. But you hadn’t been this relaxed at home for a while. Donghyuk always made sure you got some time to yourself, though. He would take Claire and Fifi to the park or to get ice cream so you could have a bath or read a book, so it’s not like you never had time to relax. Your husband was far too thoughtful for that.

Donghyuk, meanwhile, had gotten out his phone and was, apparently, scrolling through the pictures he’d taken on your honeymoon.

“Oh, remember that?” he asked softly, tilting his phone to show you a picture of the most gorgeous sunset you’d ever seen.

He then showed you pictures of what you had proclaimed to be your favorite meal, some of the beautiful flowers on the resort grounds, and even the local wildlife -- it still melted your heart how adorably Donghyuk reacted to animals, and you were sure it always would.

After a while, he began to show you pictures from your wedding. And then pictures from the family trip you’d taken to a theme park a few months ago. And then the selfies Claire had taken when she’d stolen his phone. And then from the night he’d proposed to you. And then when you’d first brought Fifi home. And then right after you and Claire had moved in. He ended up going so far back in his photos that he even showed you the first selfie the two of you had taken together as a couple -- on your first date.

Donghyuk had taken you bowling and out for pizza, and even though his score had been almost double yours, you’d had the most fun you’d ever had on a date. And you’d also been convinced he had taken you bowling just so he could stand behind you and show you the “proper bowling form.” He was an incredibly affectionate person, so he would really take any excuse to put his arms around you.

The next two years after your first date hadn’t always been easy -- being in a relationship never was, and when you throw being a parent into the mix, it makes things even more difficult -- but they had probably been the best two years of your life.

Not only was Donghyuk an affectionate boyfriend, fiancé, and now husband, but he was also thoughtful, sweet, and loving. You hadn’t been surprised in the least, though, because you already knew him before you’d started dating. Affectionate, thoughtful, sweet, and loving was just who he was as a person. He was genuinely fun to be around, and Claire never once complained or asked you to stop seeing him. In fact, she brought up marriage before the two of you had even talked about it.

“Man, it really is quiet,” Donghyuk said once he laid his phone down, apparently finished with his photographic trip down memory lane.

“I know...” you murmured, still combing through his hair with your fingers.

Donghyuk tilted his head to look up at you better, and you raised your eyebrows, momentarily pausing your ministrations.

“I was used to a quiet house before you guys moved in, you know,” he said.

“I’m sorry for messing that up for you,” you chuckled teasingly.

Your husband grinned up at you, and then he shook his head. “No... I like it. It’s weird being this quiet. No Barbie movies, no puppy paws, no homework to help with... it’s weird. I don’t think I could ever live by myself again.”

“Well, I should hope you won’t have to,” you said with another chuckle. “You’ll, at least, always have me.”

Donghyuk’s smile widened, and then he reached for one of your hands, bringing it to his lips and kissing your palm. “I sound like an awful parent, but thank goodness Claire got sick that time,” he said.

“I, too, sound like an awful parent, but thank goodness she broke her arm,” you giggled.

If she hadn’t gotten sick, you wouldn’t have met when you did. If she hadn’t broken her arm, who knows when the two of you would’ve realized and confessed your feelings for each other. You probably wouldn’t be where you are right now, so... you had to admit. Claire had been right. Her fever had been destiny.

Donghyuk kissed your hand again, and then looked at you with a hopeful expression. “Should we just go pick them up now?”

You had been planning on waiting until tomorrow morning to go to your parent’s house for Claire and Fifi, but... you realized you didn’t like the quiet house, either.

So, you nodded. “Yeah,” you agreed. “Let’s go pick them up now.”

You’d had the most wonderful time on your honeymoon; you’d spent precious alone time with your husband for a whole week, and you would never take that for granted.

But, if you were being honest, there was nothing you liked more than being a family. Your life just didn’t feel quite complete without your husband, your daughter, and your dog.

You already couldn’t wait to open the door to your parents’ house and hear Claire’s excited squeal as she ran to greet her mom and dad.

While Donghyuk wasn’t officially her dad yet -- he would be getting the papers to adopt her soon now that you were married -- Claire had been calling him ‘Dad’ for months now. You still remember the first time she had, actually. You had, embarrassingly enough, started crying.

But so had Donghyuk.

And, if you hadn’t already known, that’s when you would’ve known.

He was it. He was The One. He was yours, forever and ever.

He was your destiny.

#kwritersworldnet #donghyuk scenarios #donghyuk imagines #donghyuk au #donghyuk fluff #donghyuk fanfic #ikon scenarios #ikon imagines #ikon au #ikon fluff #ikon fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #ikon #donghyuk #kim donghyuk #ikon donghyuk #ikon dk

[jenoptimist]

prompt:

Person A: “Why exactly is an ancient vampire following you around like a lost puppy.”

Person B: “....It’s a long story.”

—

It was Donghyuk’s fault that you were in this mess, you mused as you stared at your surroundings in the evil lair you were currently being kept in. It was somewhere near a body of water of course, because duh kelpie, and you were deep inside a cave that was full of moisture, moss and weird insects. The ground that you sat on was wet, cold and just overall uncomfortable especially because your wrists and ankles were bound with worn out, itchy rope. If Donghyuk hadn’t messed with that stupid kelpie (of all things a kelpie) you wouldn’t have been kidnapped. But oh no. Donghyuk just had to antagonize the guy didn’t he and because of that, you were his lunch.

Inwardly you cursed him, hoping he got a papercut in the near future.

You shifted your gaze from the wall to the to the figure laying awkwardly on your left. The brunet stranger looked extremely, in kinder words, worse for wear; sunken cheeks, skin paler than any you’ve ever seen combined with a willowy looking body. If this was your enemy’s first meal, no wonder he had grabbed you because the guy was barely a snack. There was no way the fiend would be satisfied. The other kidnapee was there before you and hadn’t made a move since you had arrived. In fact if you hadn’t inspected him for as long as you had, you definitely caught the micromovements of his chest as he breathed, then you would have presumed that he was already dead. Fortunately for you, he wasn’t.

The coven was probably working on tracking you but they sure were taking their sweet time and you were getting impatient–it had gotten just a bit darker and you hadn’t seen the kelpie since he threw you in the damn cave. A sigh that echoed loudly escaped your lips as you folded your legs so that they came up to your chest and slid your bound arms over them.

The kelpie was clearly a dumbass for not tying your arms behind your back. What, was he a newbie at kidnapping? Had he not watched any movies for references or something? Although you were thankful that for his rookie mistake because your toes were expertly working on the rope. There was something to be said about the kelpie’s skill when you could undo his work in under twenty minutes but you supposed that also meant that you were too used to being kidnapped.

Tossing the rope aside, you quickly undid the binding on your ankles and finally, finally, you could stand up and stretch.

With one last stretch, you made to leave. That was until you caught sight of the other victim through your peripheral vision. You glanced towards the dim light, just about able to make the shape of the entrance, and decided that if the kelpie were to burst in mid-escape that at least you would have died doing a good deed. Walking up to the stranger, you harshly poked his leg repeatedly. No dice. Your mouth twisted into a frown but you quickly undid the rope around his wrists and ankles. You tried waking him up again but nothing worked. Left with no other option, you grabbed one of his arms and pulled him up. It concerned you how easy it was but you made sure that you had a tight grip on him as you started making your way to the exit.

Getting back to your apartment was no easy feat; the extra weight meant that it took you double, or maybe even triple, the amount of time to walk back to your destination. Any other person would bring the unconscious man to a hospital but you thought it was best to avoid it since you didn’t want to answer any questions that they would have, especially considering that you didn’t even know him. Besides, Taeyong and Doyoung could just do their healing mumbo-jumbo so everything would be just fine.

Once you saw the beautiful sight of your door, you heaved a sigh of relief when you saw your friends surrounding it. Jungwoo was the first to spot you and immediately rushed over to help you carry the man while the others opened the door quickly gathered inside.

“We should get him in the shower,” you said. You hadn’t grown accustomed to the stench that he emitted the entire way back. “While we do that, Taeyong and Doyoung, could you check if there’s anything wrong with him please?” They hummed an affirmative and you smiled gratefully at them as you and Jungwoo, with the help of Johnny and Jaehyun, placed the unconcious brunet inside the tub and turned on the water.

“You should get in too, y/n, you reek!”

In a flash you glared at Donghyuk. “Oh yeah? And who’s fault is that, exactly?”

“Okay, okay. I shouldn’t have kept pranking him but the guy just made it so easy! And I didn’t know he was a supernatural!”

“I miss Sicheng,” you said with an exaggerated sigh as you stepped into the tub as well, your feet on either side of the man’s legs. “At least he would’ve been able to smell that it was a kelpie.” Your werewolf friend was trying to recruit a pack down south to be the supernatural counterpart of your coven and unfortunately wouldn’t be back for three or four months, which was a total bummer because it meant that your Swimming Sundays were on hold. You would go on your own but it felt like you were betraying him and the one time you did try, it was too lonely without him.

“I’m sorry.” Donghyuk pouted at you as you scrubbed shampoo into the stranger’s hair, taking extra time to massage his scalp. You had to repeat it numerous time to get all the dirt out.

“I’ll forgive you if you buy me and this guy dinner tonight.”

“Deal.”

“Okay we’re good.”

Taeil snorted. “You two are idiots.”

After the both of you had showered and Yuta magicked some clothes for the guy, you allowed the others to lay him on your bed as you got changed in the bathroom. You were pretty concerned for the guy because he was super malleable while you gave him a bath, not even a twitch or anything.

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong with him?” You asked the two healing type witches, your forehead creased due to your furrowed brows, to which they shook their heads.

“His body is building up some strength so he’ll probably wake up on his own at some point.” Doyoung replied as he eyed the figure on your bed curiously, his head tilted.

You hummed. “Alrighty then.” You spun around to face Donghyuk who was leaning on your door frame, “time for food!” You chirped.

As the day stretched into night, your friends started leaving one by one but not before charging up the protective wards that they wove around concealed areas of your apartment, bidding you goodbyes with sweet smiles as they made you promise to call them if anything was wrong.

After taking care of your night routine, you stood at the edge of your bed with your arms folded, debating on whether or not you wanted to hop into bed with a complete stranger. Sure, he looked harmless with his boyish features but everyone was harmless when they were asleep. After a few more minutes of standing there like an absolute moron, you decided that you would bite the bullet and just get into bed. It was yours after all and you reasoned with yourself that there was no way this guy would do anything to you since you literally sheltered him. With that in mind, you closed your eyes and drifted off to some well deserved sleep.

*

You woke up to a face hovering directly above yours and immediately screamed, causing the figure to scramble away from you in a panic. You backed up against the headboard as you kept your eyes on him which started a staring competition. As soon as you felt your eyes drying up, you blinked as you shook your head however you could still his gaze boring into you.

“Sorry for screaming at you,” you apologized as you began to get off of your bed, “I completely forgot that you were here. Honestly though, I thought you were dead but I’m glad you aren’t.” He said nothing, just watched as you fixed your duvet and fluffed your pillows. “My name’s y/n, by the way, just in case you were wondering. I got you out of that nasty kelpie cave because, hello, I couldn’t just leave you there knowing that you were alive. Do you know what that would do to my conscious?” Again, he said nothing, just trailed behind you as you walked into the kitchen. “Well, anyways, you aren’t, like, a vegan right? ‘Cause I really want scrambled eggs.”

“What’s a vegan?” Came the hoarse voice of your guest just as you took four eggs from the fridge. You decided to pour him a glass of water while explaining to him what a vegan was, somewhat confused that he wasn’t aware of what it was, and found yourself smiling amusedly as he downed it in one go. “No, ‘m not a vegan.”

“Awesome! Hey, what’s your name by the way?”

“Mark.”

As you began to work on your eggs, you started rambling to fill up the silence because your guest didn’t seem too chatty at the moment, which you totally understood.

“Well it’s nice to meet you Mark! I wish we could have met under different circumstances, but oh well nothing we can do now. Actually I’m sorta glad that I got kidnapped ‘cause then I got to help you get out of there, like, you looked so rough. It was pretty terrible.”

Mark cleared his throat. “Thank you, uh, for saving me.” He mumbled, “anyone else would have just left me there.”

Tutting in response at the thought while you plated up the food, you responded with, “you’re absolute right there. People can be such assholes. I remember another time I was kidnapped and tried to help this girl and she totally was unappreciative, which, like, sis you clearly aren’t. People are just too prideful.”

You startled slightly when you spun around, one plate in each hand, as you caught Mark staring at you intensely with his innocent, wide eyes. He immediately jumped up from his high seat on the other side of the counter and grabbed the plates from you, briskly placing them on the table and pulled out a chair on one side immediately afterwards. He looked at you expectantly as you slowly made your way to the seat, smiling at him in thanks.

“Yeah,” Mark agreed as he sat on the seat across from you. You dug into your food, relishing the taste. There was nothing like a scrambled eggs in the morning, you should have toasted some bread as well. “But they probably wouldn’t have helped, y’know, since I’m a vampire and all.” That had you choking on your food.

“Geez, give a little warning before you drop something like that!” A vampire. Of course he was a vampire. Nothing in your life was ever easy, it seemed. Whatever. You could totally roll with the punches because there was no way you could leave this guy to fend for himself, he just looked too innocent–vampire or not. You were curious about his kind anyway, since your coven hadn’t had any run-ins with them. In fact vampires were among the rarer supernaturals to spot because they preferred to stay hidden from society which was something you could totally get behind. Sometimes society sucked.

“Sorry, y/n! Are you alright?” His brows creased, tone colored in concern.

“Yep! All good! Just, you know, a little surprised is all.”

Mark’s expression shifted into one that was a mix of curiosity and anxiousness. “You didn’t know?” He asked quietly, seeming to melt into his chair.

“Uh, no? But listen, it’s totally cool with me! Promise.” You examined him once again; he definitely looked better after drinking that glass of water and eating his portion of eggs. He finished them pretty quickly, so he was clearly famished. You racked your brain to think of what food you had readily available when a thought occurred to you. “You-” you paused, slightly nervous, “you need blood don’t you?”

Without meeting your eyes, he nodded. At that point you already knew what you had to do. Sure, the thought made you a little bit queasy but Mark? Mark looked so dejected, as if he thought you were repulsed by him. Which, hello, it wasn’t like it was 1932 where people still condemned the supernatural. People were generally much more accepting these days. Maybe where he used to live wasn’t? You frowned at the thought.

“You can feed from me.” Mark’s head snapped up as quick as lightning, opening his mouth but you gave him no room to refuse your offer. “Clearly, you need it. And if it’s something that I can give to you that can help you then I will. You need the strength, anyways. I’m sure you’ll get some color back as well, cause there’s no way vampires are like those stereotypes, right?”

Mark looked unsure. “What if I’m a bad guy?”

You snorted. “That’s highly unlikely. I’m part of a coven, well, I’m not a witch or anything, more like their human moral support system. But anyways, my friends have warded my house so no harm can come to me, so if you were a bad guy you wouldn’t have been allowed in in the first place.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh, now how do you want me?”

Mark seemed flustered by the question, which was completely adorable, but answered the question anyways. As you gave him your wrist, he said, “you know, you shouldn’t just go around offering blood to vampires.”

You waved a hand nonchalantly at him, “I appreciate your concern Mark, really, I do. But,” you made sure to look him directly in the eye so that he wouldn’t mistake your words for anything else but sincerity, “I trust you.” He was clearly taken back by your statement, his doe eyes making an appearance once again. “What? Don’t look so surprised. You’ve had plenty of opportunity to maim me or whatever but you haven’t.”

“Yeah because I’m not a monster.”

“Exactly! Now, get on with it, please, before I really start to freak out.”

Mark obliged. It wasn’t as bad as you thought it was, the puncture just felt like a little pinprick which was totally manageable. You could tell that he was being gentle by the way he was holding your arm with the smallest amount of pressure and the way he took little breaks in between. Once he had taken his fill, he surprised you by licking the area but you figured that it was regular vampire behaviour.

“Thank you.” Mark said as he released your arm.

You smiled at him and you were brilliantly surprised when he returned one of his own. “No problem!”

*

Almost a week had passed and Mark was still staying with you. The two of you had a routine by that point; eat, let him feed from you and then do whatever you wanted until he needed to feed again, which was about an additional two or three times. It was honestly kind of scary how easily he slotted himself into your life, however, you found that you didn’t mind. You liked his company. Ever since you had let him feed from you the first time around he was quick to warm up to you and it was quite endearing to see him do cute things to please you.

You were currently playing a game of Guess Who when your phone rang. You scrunched your nose, smiling at him apologetically before picking up the call.

“She’s alive you guys!” Johnny’s voice bellowed in your ear.

“Well hello to you to Johnny boy.” He laughed good naturedly at your nickname for him. “And, rude, Of course I’m alive!”

“We haven’t seen you since forever ago, y/n! Do you not like us anymore?” Doyoung whined, dramatic as always.

“Is it because of Donghyuck? ‘Cause I’ll get rid of him if you want.” Yuta offered which was followed by a ‘hey!’ by none other than Donghyuk himself, causing you to giggle.

“Sorry, I’ve just been spending some time with Mark.” You explained as you met the vampire’s gaze, who smiled goofily at you when you did. You couldn’t suppress the smile that made its own way onto your face.

“Is that the guy you saved?” Jungwoo asked you and you hummed an affirmative. “Okay. Is it alright if we go there and formally introduce ourselves then?”

You heard Yuta mutter something suspiciously like, ‘yeah and threaten him.’ But you said nothing. “Sure,” you replied to Jungwoo, “see you here in half an hour?”

“Perfect!” And with that, he hung up.

“Looks like we’ve got some cleaning to do.” The apartment wasn’t particularly messy but because it could get pretty rowdy with a group of boys, you always moved the more vulnerable items just in case anything were to happen to them. Mark trailed you, copying whatever you did and glanced at you for your approval.

Within no time at all, the boys had finally arrived, barging in like they owned the place as they usually did. They greeted you one by one before turning to Mark, who had taken comfort in pressing into your side the minute everyone else stepped in and started shooting laser beams at him with their eyes. It was Taeyong who started asking Mark various questions before he deemed the man safe enough to have around. All of them got along like a house on fire and it warmed your heart to see the coven accepting him easily like you did. They even invited him to movie night, which was great since you were going to anyway even if they didn’t because you didn’t want him to be left alone.

“They’re very nice.” Mark stated as you closed the door on your last guest. “Very kind and friendly, just like you.”

You beamed at him, “you really think so?”

Mark nodded as he grabbed your hand, ready to lead you to bed just as he has been doing for the past week. “Yeah, I really like them.”

Pleased with his answer, you swung your interlocked fingers wildly in the air and began humming happily.

*

Three months later, Mark was still staying in your apartment. Nothing much changed in your dynamic other than you two getting closer to each other. You knew a lot stuff about him at that point like how he loved the smell of coffee but hated the taste of it, that he loved eating watermelons and tried feeding from deer because he saw it in Twilight. You knew what made him laugh, smile and what little things irritated him. You even knew what he looked like when he was mad, all because of that time he and Donghyuk got into an argument so bad that they refused to talk to each other for about a month and a half. Nobody spoke about That Incident anymore but sometimes you noticed that the others were prepared just in case anything escalated to that level.

Mark seemed to be attached to you, actually, trailing you like a little duckling at all times. You sure were lucky that you worked in the magic shop that the coven owned because there was no way any other work places would have tolerated how he barely strayed a few meters behind you, unless either of you needed to go to the bathroom. The other boys ribbed you about it, teasing about how he must have imprinted on you exactly like a baby duck would their mother but you just rolled your eyes and shoved whatever warmth you felt down into the depths of your mind. There was absolutely no way you were going to expose the massive crush you had developed on Mark because they would never let you live it down. Especially Jaehyun and Donghyuk.

“Have you ever thought about moving out?” You asked Mark out of the blue as you cooked dinner for the two of you. You were curious because any other person would have moved on already and yet there you were, three months after the kidnapping and he hadn’t gone away.

You imagined that he was wearing his confused facial expression, the one where his head would tilt to the side slightly, eyes squinted as he said, “no, why?”

“Just wondering.” You replied with a shrug.

“Do you want me to move out?”

You pretended to think about it. Sneaking a look at his face, you weren’t entirely surprised to find him just a feet or two away from you. The vampire was staring you with those cute wide eyes that you couldn’t resist, eyebrows raised in horror. You rolled your eyes fondly at him and lightly petted his cheek. In turn he placed his hand over yours and leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. You studied him for a moment, soaking in how at peace he looked before turning your attention back to your one pot pasta–your hand being held hostage as you willed your heartbeat to calm itself down a notch, fully aware that he could hear the strong uptick of your heartbeat.

“No,” you replied as you turned off the stove, turning to face him. “You can stay as long as you like.” You said simply, losing yourself in his eyes.

Mark slowly lowered your hand from his cheek, averting his eyes away from yours, fiddling with your fingers in his. “And,” he licked his lips, “if I asked to stay forever?”

Heart pounding vehemently in your ears, you cleared your throat. “I’d say: of course you can.” You inhaled sharply as he slowly started crowding into your personal space, nervousness filling his eyes which were mapping your face like they always did.

“What if I asked for more?” He whispered shakily, raising a hand to caress you cheek.

“Like what?” You could hardly breathe with the way he was looking at you; like you were the answer he was looking for all this time, like you were everything he’d ever wanted.

“You know what,” you did. Of course you did. It was clear in his eyes what he wanted however you said nothing, waiting for him to continue. “I want everything.” He answered truthfully, “everything that you’re willing to give me. Anything I can get.”

Part of you wanted to say a joke. Say something stupid like, ‘that desperate for me, are you’ or, ‘I didn’t know you wanted me that badly’ but you refrained yourself from doing so. You knew how much courage it took for him, could see how anxious he was, because it probably wasn’t easy for him to do this.

“And if it’s my heart?”

Mark leaned in closer to you, his face a few inches from your own. “I promise I’ll take care of it.” And with that he gently pressed his lips onto yours, kissing you slow and sweet. Your hands found themselves around his neck and you could feel him smile into the kiss.

When you pulled away to catch your breath, his smile rivaled the sun with how bright and warm it was. It made butterflies erupt in your stomach and there was nothing you could do but return it.

“I trust you.” You told him giddily, like it was a secret that only the two of you knew.

With a boyish smile, he said, “I trust you too.” Then followed the statement up with another kiss.

*

It was Sicheng’s welcome back party and your boyfriend hadn’t once let go of your hand since Taeyong informed the coven that the pack that Sicheng successfully recruited would be joining. The other witches snickered as Mark wandered around with you as you greeted everyone and chatted with a few people here and there, hand attached to your own as it always was.

Eventually Sicheng couldn’t contain himself anymore and gestured you over with an incline of his head. Once you reached him, Mark in tow right behind you, he immediately asked, “why exactly is an ancient vampire following you around like a lost puppy.” You snorted, of course Sicheng and his super senses would figure out what your boyfriend was.

You dragged Mark to stand beside you, flashing him an adoring smile before replying to your friend. “It’s a long story.”

Sicheng muttered, ‘only you’ but you chose to ignore him in favor of staring at your boyfriend tenderly as he kissed your hand, returning your stare. You figured that you should thank Donghyuk for getting you into that mess because if it weren’t for him you wouldn’t have met one of the most loveliest people on earth.

#@MY MAIN OG BISS THIS ONES FOR U #HOPE UR SURVIVING UR MARK PHASE #i really tried okay guys #it was supposed to be short but somehow morphed into this??? #im like 50/50 about whether or not i like this #bUt anyways tahdah i hope yall like it #its 2am and now im like.....is there a point of me sleepjng #well no actually there is cause last time i pulled an all nighter my eyes were so sore the next day #anyway here come the tags: #NCT #NCT 127 #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct u #nct dream #mark lee #nct mark #mark scenarios #mark imagines #mark au

[monstaless]

NCT 127 - First Kisses

Main Masterlist

NCT Masterlist

Taeyong

He wanted to be 100% sure, so he’d been waiting for a while to make his move. You’d been out on at least a dozen dates by now. At this point, he was beyond sure of his feelings for you. Now he was just waiting for the perfect moment.

Your intertwined hands swung loosely between the two of you as you walked and he watched you talking animatedly with a cute smile on his face. When the two of you were finally in the privacy of his car, he took his chance. You were in the process of buckling your seatbelt, he leaned across the console and when you turned to look at him, his lips met yours. You closed your eyes, savoring the soft press of his lips against yours. When he pulled away, you took a deep breath before opening your eyes to meet his gaze, finding him watching for your reaction. The second your eyes met, you were both leaning back across the console. This time, the kiss wasn’t nearly as slow and soft.

Taeil

Taeil was usually cautious about things. He was never one to just jump right in. He couldn’t help but want to kiss you everytime he was near you. His face lit up with the most beautiful bashful smile when his eyes met yours over the table at dinner. He returned his attention to his food, unable to hold the eye contact when he felt his face starting to heat up.

He was quiet for most of the evening until he’d walked you to your door. His hands were tucked into his pockets and he gave you a small smile.

“I had fun tonight,” you smiled, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for taking me out.”

He was stunned for a moment before he spoke.

“Can I, uh, kiss you for real?” He asked. You nodded and he pressed his lips gently to yours. It was short and sweet.

Johnny

Johnny took you completely by surprise when he pressed his lips to yours in the backseat of the cab. The kiss was incredibly greedy, not at all what you had been anticipating, especially not in the back of a cab. It was still welcome though. One of his hands held the back of your neck to pull you in even closer. Your body was pressed as close to his as possible.

When he pulled away, he gave you an innocent smirk. Then he was leaning in to kiss you again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, completely prepared for the kiss this time.

Yuta

Yuta hadn’t really been expecting things to go this far. The first date had been a blind date set up by your mutual friends, the third had just been him making sure the first two weren’t just flukes, but this one was real. You two definitely had something. He wasn’t sure exactly what that something was, but he was beyond willing to stick around and find out.

When you invited him into your apartment, he has a feeling that he knew what you were hoping for. He was kind of hoping for it himself and really hoping that he hadn’t misinterpreted the invitation.

Once the door was closed, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours and letting you leas him wherever you wanted him to go.

Doyoung

You snuggled up closer to Doyoung as your eyes started to drift shut. The show he was watching was interesting, but you were super tired and he was super comfortable. He held you a little tighter, pulling you in closer so that your face was hidden in the crook of his neck. He sighed in contentment before moving his head to give you a kiss on the forehead.

You looked up at that exact moment to see what he was doing and his lips met yours. You both pulled away quickly, your faces heating up. Then he let out a chuckle and you looked up at him with a smile.

“Wanna try that again?” You asked.

“Definitely.” He grinned.

Jaehyun

Jaehyun was sweet and thoughtful, you’d known this from the moment that you’d met him. He wasn’t the kind of guy to plan out every detail, but he definitely thought of it before hand. That’s how you knew he was up to something on this night. He was quiet, lost in his own thoughts. You just didn’t know what it could be.

He kept his hands tucked into his pockets as he walked you to your door. They stayed there even as the two of you stoped outside the door and he thanked you for going out with him.

“Of course. Thank you for inviting me out,” you smiled. “Um, so, I guess I’ll see you next time?”

“How about Wednesday?” He asked, removing one of his hands from its pocket to rub the back of his neck.

“Sounds great.”

Then he leaned forward to give you a gentle kiss. He smiled when he pulled away.

“Goodnight. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

You were stunned into silence.

WinWin

Somehow, out of miles and miles of coastline, WinWin had discovered a near perfect spot for a picnic. There wasn’t another beachgoer in sight. It was quiet and secluded.

After eating your lunch and wading into the waves for a bit, the two of you laid on the blanket and just talked for a long time. A big smile spread across his face as you told him a very imaginative beach story from your childhood and you suddenly felt a little self-conscious.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” he said suddenly. “Today has been great.”

Then he was rolling onto his side and leaning towards you to press a warm kiss to your lips with a smile still on his lips.

Jungwoo

“Oh my god, this is so good,” mumbled Jungwoo around a mouthful of food. Then he proceeded to stuff even more food into his mouth. You giggled as you watched, glad that he was enjoying the food that you’d prepared for him.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“Really though. This is so good. Thank you! I could kiss you.”

Your face flushed at the thought.

“Why don’t you then?” Your eyes widened as you realized what you’d said. You both stared at each other for a moment before he swallowed the food that was in his mouth and stood. You were afraid that he was going to leave then.

Instead, he walked around the table, cupped one of your cheeks in his hand and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

Mark

Hanging out with your best friend Mark was always one of your favorite past times. He was quirky, awkward, and a little embarrassing, but he was also smart, funny, kind, and talented. You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t developed a slight crush on him. You’d be lying if you said that the crush was ‘slight’. And lately you’d been starting to wonder if maybe, just maybe, he didn’t feel the same way. Mark was confident around his friends, always. Lately though, he’d been stumbling over his words more than usual and somehow seemed at a loss for words. He’d even seemed a little distant, not even laughing as much.

“Hey, is everything all right?” You asked, pulling him aside one day.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” He questioned, but he already seemed a little flustered.

“He’s got a crush and he’s afraid to tell them,” said Johnny peeking into the room before disappearing again.

“I don’t think you have to worry. They’d be crazy not to like you back,” you grinned, noticing the pink that was coloring his face.

“Yeah?”

You nodded and he leaned in to give you a quick peck on the lips before his face turned red and he apologized, his gaze falling to the floor.

Haechan

“Donghyuk, you ass!” You shouted from the living room as you watched yourself die at his hands for the third time that night. You stormed into his room. “You are targeting me and it’s so not fair!”

“You’re an easy target,” he shrugged, not even bothering to look up from his computer. “And everyone else in this dorm is better than me, so I’m not gonna risk it.”

“That’s not fair!”

“All is fair in love and war.”

You stopped your pouting then as an idea came to mind. You pulled on his chair and he protested as he tried to stay facing the computer. When he was close enough, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his.

He stares at you in astonishment, until the sound of his character dying snapped him out of it and he groaned in annoyance.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“I’ll make you a deal...if you’ll go out with me, I’ll stop killing you all the time.”

“Oh my god, Hyuk.”

“That’s the deal.”

“Fine, I guess I accept.”

He grinned and stood from the chair to pull you into another kiss.

#nct #nct 127 #nct u #wayv #nct dream #nct reactions #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 reactions #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #wayv reactions #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #nct dream reactions #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #lee taeyong #moon taeil #johnny suh #nakamoto yuta #kim doyoung #jung jaehyun #kim jungwoo #mark lee #lee donghyuk #nct smut #nct fluff #wayv smut #wayv fluff

[unmanageable-day]

16. Between a friend and another friend

When you are friends for so long, and it has never come across your mind to date one of them. Until one particular guy friend of yours came to offer you a relationship, a new chapter of life like no other before.

prev | next

Taeyong wished he could skip the dinner invitation from Yuta who specially arranged it for you and Doyoung. He didn't have to come though. But you had personally texted him in the morning, asking—making sure that he would be there. Now he felt obliged to come. Despite the fact he had talked with you and Doyoung, basically suggesting he was now (still trying to be) cool with your relationship, how he wished there is a pain killer for his longtime broken heart.

There you were, approaching the group with a big smile. Doyoung walked behind you. On the contrary, he looked tense but he tried to give his best smile. This dinner was held to celebrate you and him after all. Maybe he was just nervous to meet Taeyong again.

Somehow you just made the way to sit beside Taeyong. Doyoung had no choice but to follow you. He would never choose to sit across you to have better sight of you and Taeyong.

Taeyong felt it again. That happiness, warmth, and the comfort whenever you were around, yet pain wouldn't leave him. He must know his boundaries. And he must witness all your interaction with the dearie fiancee. Although, little did he know, Doyoung felt the more or less similar.

Trying his best to shrug off all the bothering feelings, Taeyong would just respond at the bare minimum to everything you said. Yet he effortlessly earned your attention, making him like the center of your world no matter the least words coming out of his mouth.

He lost it.

The initial intention was not to get too close to you. Instead, you were the one who kept approaching him, merely thinking because things were cool and you could have your bestfriend back. Taeyong found himself unable to reject your friendly gestures. He kept coming back at you, like he used to be, with random stories about his niece and nephew, a new dog he was going to adopt, the never-ending battle in games with Jaehyun, and how he wanted to re-decorate his closet. Just like the old days, you would actively respond with enthusiast. The little giggles you let out whem he told you silly stuff of how clumsy he was. Oh, how he had been longing to hear that.

Taking things even further, he also kept making sure you have something on your plate. He knew you were not into seafood dish, beside that you were allergic to some of it. He forgot to tell Yuta to not pick a seafood restaurant. He knew you can't eat spicy food too much, that was why he would always have a taste before giving something to you. He would do all of this unconsciously and he couldn't stop himself. Even after realizing that Doyoung seemed bothered.

Doyoung was mostly paying his attention to the youngsters. Or more like diverting his attention so he didn't have to look whatever Taeyong did for you.

"Doyoung, try this." You had nacho chips with tomato salsa in your hand, ready to feed him. He took a quick glance at Taeyong, who was not looking at you. He accepted the nacho with a shy smile yet he felt a little victory.

"Yummy, right? I think I can eat this my whole life. It looks like it's easy to make too," you commented as you took another bite.

"Don't. Let's just go here if you want to eat this. You'll leave crumbles all over the place at home." Soon he exposed you how he had to do the cleaning after you cooked—more like experimenting a new dish you never did—and ate the food in the living room. Non-stop complains and nagging kept coming out of his mouth.

Taeyong's ears sting at the word home, which followed by the stories he didn't want to hear about your new life. Doyoung's voice sounded like murmurs as sharp as knife piercing both his ears and heart. He instantly lost focus and stayed quiet, while your friends were laughing and chattering. He couldn't even smile when the youngsters were teasing Doyoung.

"Oh, what to do.. Our Joo-ey noona has to spend her entire life with Hyung's nagging," Donghyuk said dramatically.

"Since we live closer now, Noona can visit us easily anytime. Especially when Noona is fed up with Hyung," Jaemin added. "We will send Jeno there and we are very happy to exchange Jeno for you."

"Jaemin, not you too!" Doyoung hissed.

"Be ready to pick up my call everyday, guys," you replied their jokes. "Ah, right. Since I live nearby, it would be easier for me to get a ride home. Johnny, Jaehyun, my office is the closest with you guys." You wiggled your eyebrows at the giant guys.

"What, why? I will pick you up." Doyoung protested.

"It would be faster if I go home with Jaehyun though?"

"Eyy, Hyung, Joo-ey noona already stays with you. She can't even take a rest on the way home? She must want to have some time not being with you." Donghyuk butt in again.

"Look at you speaking, Lee Donghyuk." Doyoung pointed at him with a bread instead of his finger, his expression was rather funny than threatening.

"Taeyong hyung, this hyung bullies me," he cried, still teasing the bunny guy. "Noona, too, you will join us against Doyoung hyung, right?"

You let out a crisp laugh. "Anything for baby Hyuckie."

"That's right!" he exclaimed with his annoying face that never fails provoking Doyoung. "Teaming up with Taeyong hyung is much better than with Doyoung." Donghyuk meant it as a joke. Either you, Doyoung, and Taeyong himself knew that better than anyone else. But the three of you slightly got worked up. If Johnny didn't cut in to save the mood, the tension in the air between you, Doyoung and Taeyong would be too obvious.

Taeyong couldn't help but feeling envious and jealous. He imagined it over and over, would it be the same if you chose to be with him? Would he now sit where Doyoung was sitting, bickering like lovebirds with you?

"Taeyong?" you softly called him, making him flinched now that he had gotten back go reality.

He always liked the way you call his name. It was always soothing his ears. Sometimes he wondered if you call Doyoung that way too. But why would it matter? Doyoung had all the privilege to be with you 24/7 now.

"I think I'll head back home first. It looks like Doyoung's brother sent us something. The delivery guy is waiting for us," you told him.

Nodding was the only answer he could give. Again, how he wished it was him who gets to leave with you. He silently watched the figures of you and Doyoung walking away without looking back. You'd often rub Doyoung's back and stretch up your neck talking to him. Taeyong hated himself for asking this over and over; why it can't be him. Why Doyoung instead of him?

Johnny, Jaehyun, Mark and Yuta ended up taking him out for another round of drinks and some more of late night snack. They kept saying 'good job' and 'you've gone through a lot', hoping it could console him even for a bit. Yet those words couldn't even penetrate his ears anymore. His throat felt numb as he chugged on his drink, not even bothered to feel the burning sensation of the alcohol.

Taeyong felt a buzz from his phone inside his sling bag. He didn't feel like knowing who contacted him this late at night, yet he still checked his phone. When he saw your name popping up on the notification of new messages, again, the mixed feelings filled his heart. To him, you were that close yet so far. He could easily come to you, but he wouldn't be able to reach your hand. If he pushed himself, either he couldn't afford letting you go, or you would end up leaving him again. Pretending to be strong was never this difficult. From : Joo Great to see you today. I know you had a hard time and you went through a lot. But you are stronger than you know. You did well. You always do. Thank you once again. And one more thing... I'm sorry. —

on the way back home from restaurant

"Doyoung?"

"Hm?"

"Don't think too much of what the kids said. You and I know how much jokesters they are," you calmly said, as if having the capability to read his mind. "I would never compare you and him. Both of you are my friends. I cherish you both."

Teaming up with Taeyong is better. With Taeyong is better. Taeyong is better.

Doyoung would acknowledge that. Even when he was the one with you right now, Taeyong would still win.

Yeah, sure, both Doyoung and Taeyong were your beloved friends. But why did it feel like he had to compete with Taeyong? The intention of marrying you was merely for Doyoung to have a normal life as someone's husband who will make the wife, the parents, and the in-laws happy. He knew he was capable of that. You were not someone he chose after going for a deep thinking. He was just 'oh, I think she's good and we both know each other for a long time, so it should be easy' and there he was now. Everything went smoothly until he realized there was this man named Lee Taeyong and his great willingness to walk through fire for you if he has to. It was truthfully one part that Doyoung never thought it would be this severe. None of his intention ever had something to do with him. Thr relationship with Hyemi used to be promising to be the long-term one. Who knew it would get crushed by Taeyong himself? Why can't he just stay with Hyemi? Doyoung even had imagined it before, him and Taeyong being married with the significant other, complaining about marriage life, sharing their old married couple stories, and also the happy and dark days in child caring when they got much older. Honestly it was a beautiful future he had hoped. Yet now he and him became rivals?

"I don't," he lied, giving you a smile to convince you enough.

Was it Doyoung's fault to choose you out of all people?

You smiled back at him, hugging him from the side part and rubbing his back.

No. Up to this second, you never brought up any sensitive topic about the relationship that will be official in a matter of weeks. Doyoung kept reassuring himself that he had made it clear to you if in any time you doubt anything, you could call it off.

Calm down, Kim Doyoung. She already chose to be with you. If she doesn't have any regret, then this should be the right thing to do.

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct au #nct fanfic #nct angst #nct fluff #nct taeyong #nct doyoung #taeyong imagines #doyoung imagines #taeyong angst #doyoung angst #kpop fanfiction #kpop imagines #post by yourblinkies

[xjoonchildx]

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter three: exotic pets

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 3.4K

A/N: i hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! i’d love to hear what you think. thank you so much for your support. things are going to start ramping up on the whole slow burn angle from here. once again i must thank the fabulous @ladyartemesia​​ for both this killer graphic and beta reading for me -- as well as the amazing @taetaewonderland​​. pouring out a sunkist in your honor today xoxo

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

********************

It’s funny how people believe the shit they see in movies.

For instance, most film fans think it’s entirely possible to break a bottle over someone’s head.  One character grabs for an empty beer during a fight and the glass explodes in dramatic fashion with just one crack across another character’s skull.

You know better.

You know there’s way too much give to the human body to shatter glass like that.  

If you want to break a bottle you’ve got to connect with something much harder. The corner of a table.  A fireplace mantle.  That’s how it works in the real world.

You stare into the mirror and run the pad of one finger along the raised scar that mars your left collarbone.  All these years later and it’s paler and smoother but it’s still hideous, taunting you in your reflection.  

Today you cover it with an oversized scarf carefully matched to a silk blouse. Tomorrow it will be a turtleneck.  You’ve come up with dozens of ways to hide the ruined skin, but there’s never going to be a way to get rid of it.

It will always be a physical reminder that there are some pieces of your past you can never leave behind.

************************

Hoseok has a cold.

There was extra gravel in his voice this morning as he went over your schedule for the day. You can detect the faint scent of a cough drop in the shared air of his car.

But he doesn’t mention it and neither do you.

This morning, you’re glad for it -- glad for the absence of small talk.

In a few minutes, you get to walk into your boss’s office and announce that half the evidence in what should be a home-run case has vanished into thin air.  You have to pretend to have no idea why someone would want to sabotage a seemingly minor prosecution of a couple of idiot gangsters and you have to do it without so much as hinting at your family’s connection to organized crime in this town.

There’s a knot in your stomach so tight you feel nauseous.

Hoseok’s phone buzzes with an incoming call from the mount on the dash and he frowns for a split-second before sending it to voicemail.  One minute later it buzzes again and he rejects it again.  Seconds later and he makes it three in a row.

You know damned well that if those calls were about business, Hoseok would have answered them right away.  The knot in your stomach tightens even more and you turn your head to stare out of the window.

It’s an unfair situation, this arrangement.  Hoseok has access to every corner of your life while you don’t know a damned thing about him.  Who would he be going home to every night if he weren’t under orders to stay with you?  Who is waiting for him when this is all over?

Someone, certainly.

Willing women are in abundance in his line of work.  You grew up around them -- a revolving door of beautiful, vulnerable girls who thought nothing of trading their bodies for gifts and cash. Women so eager for security and love they accepted whatever scraps were thrown their way.  

In a way, you were like them -- a motherless little girl living in the midst of male-dominated chaos and desperate for female connection.  You watched the way they styled their hair and applied their makeup and how they went about the myriad tasks of being women.  Then inevitably you’d grow too attached too fast only to have your heart broken when one day they just disappeared.  

And they always disappeared.

You wonder what the woman trying to reach Hoseok this morning looks like.  You wonder if she’s angry that he’s had to be away so long.  You wonder what version she gets of him and how different it must be from the version you get.  The knot in your stomach is replaced by something else.

Something you’d rather not examine too closely.

**************************

“You should let me take you to lunch.”

Donghyuk interrupts what must be the worst morning of your entire career without so much as a knock or a hello.  He drops into the empty chair in your office uninvited and doesn’t wait for you to answer.

“We could ditch the busy work, slip out the back entrance -- ” he grins conspiratorially,  “ -- have a two-martini meal at Congdu and then sneak into the bathroom to fool around.  What do you think?”

You groan out loud. You are not in the mood for this shit right now.

“This is not a good time, ‘Hyuk.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I heard.”

Of course he’s heard. Everyone in a hundred-foot radius has heard. To say your bosses were displeased with the bomb you dropped on them this morning is an understatement.

“So then why are you in my office asking me to go day drinking?  Do you want me to be fired?”

“Of course not,” he says, looking offended. “I just thought you deserved a break from the madness for a minute.”

You laugh without a hint of humor.

“I’m going to get a permanent break from the madness if I don’t rescue this case somehow.  So no -- no lunch today.  Probably no lunch for the next six months, actually.”

Donghyuk frowns.

“Dinner, then?  There’s a new spot in Gangnam I’ve been wanting to try. We could go tomorrow night.”

Christ, the man is insistent these days.

You are too mentally worn out to figure out why your casual arrangement with Donghyuk feels a hell of a lot less casual of late.  If he’s suddenly decided he wants more than just the occasional meal-to-mattress thing you’ve enjoyed for months, he’s in for a disappointment.  You are tapped out.

“I’ve got -- It’s just complicated for me right now,” you manage.

“Yeah, I get it,” he agrees sympathetically. “The bodyguard thing, right?”

“Right,” you repeat slowly, mind suddenly flipping back to Hoseok. Back to this morning’s car ride.

Back to those missed calls.

Something childish and petty and unbecoming stirs inside of you.

“You know what? Dinner tomorrow night could work, actually.”

Donghyuk leans back and smiles wide.

“Great.”

*********************

Hoseok’s cold hasn’t improved.

The ride to the restaurant is radio silent, but for the sound of his occasional sniffle.  You could have sworn you saw actual displeasure cross his face when you’d asked him to take you to meet Donghyuk tonight.  It feels like the air between you is crackling with tension.  

But it’s probably your imagination.

Hoseok says nothing as he closes the car door behind you, nothing as he holds the door to the restaurant open for you, and nothing when you thank him as you step inside.

Donghyuk has a table waiting. No small feat because this place is packed.  

It’s a brand-new restaurant and apparently one of the most expensive and coveted dining spots in the city.  In an instant, it dawns on you that there’s no table for Hoseok.  You turn to ask him where he wants to be, but he brushes past you to take a seat at the bar.

Again, he says nothing.

You huff your frustration under your breath as you slide into the chair across from Donghyuk.  He’s got a snifter of what’s sure to be some pricey brandy in his hand.

“Germain-Robin Select Barrel,” he declares, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before taking a sip.  “Best stuff in town.”

Of course it is.  

Donghyuk is accustomed to having only the best of the best; a natural by-product of his upbringing.  You’ve known one another since you were pupils at the same prep school, living parallel lives. You both had expensive homes and pricey tutors and fancy clothes -- but his family graced the pages of the society magazines while yours graced the pages of the newspapers.

This thing you have with him is supposed to be easy; an uncomplicated diversion. But lately, it's a hell of a lot less satisfying than it used to be.  Either Donghyuk is really getting more self-absorbed and less interesting -- or you are just starting to not give a shit about anything he has to say.

He’s droning on about something golf-related when you tune out completely. Your eyes wander to Hoseok at the bar.  

He still hasn’t ordered anything to eat and a drink sits untouched on the bartop.

“Sharp dresser, that guy.”

“What?”

You swing your focus back to Donghyuk like you’ve just come out of a trance.

“The bodyguard,” he says around a fork full of food.  “He’s got pretty good taste for some street gangster. I should find out where he shops.”

You’re caught by surprise -- by his comment, by the way it makes your chest tighten.  By the force of the second-hand embarrassment you suddenly feel on behalf of Hoseok.

“He’s not some -- street gangster,” you say quietly, slowly.

“Oh, he’s not?” Donghyuk asks, looking genuinely confused.  “He’s not one of your brother’s guys?”

Red-hot anger blossoms inside of you so fast you can barely contain it.  You stare Donghyuk down with the most venomous look you can muster.

“I didn’t say he wasn’t,” you bite out. “But you have no clue what you’re talking about. And keep any mention of my brother out of your mouth.”

“Jeez, sorry,” Donghyuk fires back, lifting his hands in surrender.  “I didn’t realize I was touching on a nerve. I thought you hated your family. That’s what everyone says, anyway.”

You jerk out of the chair so abruptly it nearly falls back.  The napkin in your lap falls to the floor and the people sitting at the tables nearby stop to look. Donghyuk’s mouth falls open with surprise.

“I’m done,” you grind out, grabbing for your purse.

“Sit down,” Donghyuk hisses. “You’re making a scene.”

“She said she’s done.”

You never saw Hoseok move, never registered him leaving the bar -- but when you rip your gaze away from Donghyuk, he is at your side.  

Hoseok opens his wallet and throws a pile of bills down on the table.  He doesn’t spare a glance at Donghyuk as he calmly ushers you away from the table.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

***************************

The ride home from the restaurant is just as silent as the ride there.

Hoseok drives and you stare blankly out the window as you replay Donghyuk’s words in your mind.

I thought you hated your family. That’s what everyone says.

Yes -- you hated your father.  You had your reasons and you had earned that right.

But Namjoon?  Never.  You could never hate your brother.  

The fact that you’d given anyone -- even Donghyuk -- reason to believe otherwise makes you feel sick to your stomach.  Shames weighs so heavy on your chest it feels like you can’t breathe.

You don’t even have the energy to devote to being embarrassed at how that whole scene played out in front of Hoseok.  By the time he walks you into your apartment, you’re just desperate to wash up and fall into bed.  Hoseok lingers in the living room but you don’t even look at him.  You head straight for your bedroom.

The tears come the moment the latch clicks closed.

Followed closely by the screams.

**********************

HOSEOK

What a shitty way to end what had really shaped up to be an enjoyable night.

Hoseok could see the moment things went south at dinner.  You’d looked disinterested from the second you sat down, distracted the entire time you ate your meal.  But then the strangest look came over you at the end, something Hoseok couldn’t quite decipher.  Until it was replaced by something he understood loud and clear from all the way across the room.

Fury.

It was way too fucking satisfying, really.  

The look on that idiot’s face when you humiliated him in front of an entire restaurant full of his shitty little peers.  The way his mouth dropped open when you told him you were done and the way his cheeks burned red when Hoseok tossed the money on the table.

That would have been the perfect way to end the night.  

But then you started screaming.

Hoseok’s body is moving before his mind does. In seconds, he’s crossed the apartment and ripped your bedroom door open.

“Holy shit,” he breathes.

You are pressed against the far wall of the room, staring down at the floor.  Hoseok follows your terrified gaze down to the large black snake coiled just a few feet away.  

“Okay, wow. Fuck,” he mutters, shoving his hand through this hair, trying like hell to formulate a cohesive thought.  “Okay just...just stay calm for me, okay? Can you do that?”

You say nothing, out of screams and out of words as you stare back at him. It’s clear that no, staying calm is the last thing you can do right now but staying silent is a pretty good second option.

“I have to leave you for a second, okay?  Just one second.  Can you stay calm for me?” Hoseok repeats, taking a tentative step out the door.  “You don’t have to answer me, just nod. I’m going to be back in seconds and I’m going to get this thing out of here.  Are you with me?”  

Hoseok watches as you pull in one shaky breath and nod woodenly.  That’s all the affirmation he needs.

He runs to rip a pillowcase off one of the pillows on his bed.  When he gets back to your room, the snake has stretched it’s long body into a flat line and you look somehow more terrified than you did when he left.  

“I’m back, okay?” he reassures, even though he’s certain you already know that.  But you won’t take your eyes off that snake and he wants you to hear the artificial calm in his voice. “Don’t make any sudden moves. I’m going to get this thing into this pillowcase in my hands.”

He talks you through what he’s doing like it’s going to somehow reinforce that he’s in control when he knows that he’s anything but.  Hoseok has seen and done a lot of weird shit in this line of work, but he’s never had to wrangle a fucking snake.  He has a basic understanding of what needs to be done, but that’s still a far damned cry from actually doing it.  

He takes one deep breath and starts forward with careful steps.

The fact that the snake has uncoiled might work to his advantage, he reasons.  From this angle he can probably reach the tail without coming too close to the head.  He knows that whatever move he makes has to be fast and decisive -- and he understands instinctively that your composure relies almost entirely on him maintaining his.

He sees you clap a hand over your mouth to stop from screaming when he grabs for the snake.  The animal’s long body undulates in his grip, stronger than he expected, and he has to pull back when the snake swings its head in his direction.  The entire debacle couldn’t have lasted any more than five seconds, but by the time Hoseok gets an opportunity to pull the pillowcase over the snake’s body, it feels like an eternity.

He wonders if you could see how badly his hands were shaking the entire time.

*******************

“So wait, what kind of snake is it?”

“Fuck Yoongi, I don’t know,” Hoseok snaps, pulling the cabinets under your bathroom sink open. He rifles through the contents, checking to make sure nothing else has been left behind.

“Black. Shiny. Doesn’t look friendly.  You gonna come help me toss this apartment or do you want to talk exotic pets?”

“Don’t be a dick,” Yoongi chuckles, “and don’t do anything to that snake. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

Hoseok ends the call without so much as a goodbye.  

He takes a break from inspecting your room to walk out into the living room to check on you.  You are seated cross-legged on your couch, staring into nothing.

“Yoongi is on his way,” he says, rubbing one hand across the back of his neck. “He’s going to help me do a deep dive in all the rooms.”

You don’t respond.

“You okay?”

You turn your head slowly and blink up at him like you’ve just registered the sound of his voice.  

“Uh, yeah,” you say slowly, even though you sound anything but. “I’m okay.”

Hoseok tongues his cheek. He wishes he knew what to do or what to say to make you feel more at ease.  He chides himself for the thought almost as soon as it comes.  You probably wouldn’t want to hear it from him, anyway.

“Alright,” he sighs, turning back towards your bedroom. “Just give me a minute to get through everything in here and then you can get some sleep.”

“Hoseok?”

You call to him from the couch and he turns back to face you.  

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

Something twists inside Hoseok’s stomach at the despondent look on your face.  It’s such a contrast to the look he saw tonight at the restaurant -- the fiery, angry one that made him feel like he could understand you a bit more.  He would rather see any other version of you than the one he sees right now.

“You’re welcome,” he says thickly, turning away to get back to work.

***********************

You are still sleeping when Hoseok leaves Seokjin at your apartment in his place.

Namjoon is standing at his office window this morning, like he often does when he’s thinking.  Yoongi nods when Hoseok enters the office and helps himself to the only other empty chair.

“What happened last night?” Namjoon asks, not bothering to turn away from the window.  

Yoongi shoots Hoseok a look that says you first and Hoseok returns with one of his own that says no shit, sherlock.

“There’s not much that you’re not already briefed on,” Hoseok starts, “I brought your sister home from a social outing and when we got home she found a snake on her bedroom floor. I was able to contain the snake and Yoongi and I searched every inch of the apartment after that.  Didn’t turn up anything else.”

“Any sign of forced entry?”

“No,” Hoseok admits.  “I couldn’t find any.  I have a locksmith working with Seokjin on replacing the deadbolt again this morning.”

“Right,” Namjoon says, turning away from the window to walk back to his desk.  “So that makes twice now that we’ve changed her locks, twice now that someone has managed to get in anyway.  What about the cameras outside?”

“I checked the footage,” Yoongi says. “Someone used a pole or a stick to put a physical block over the lens.  It was still up there when I checked this morning.  Duct tape.”

Namjoon scrubs a hand across his jaw, sighs out loud.

“Fuck. Where are we with tracking the Lee girl?”

Yoongi clears his throat.  “I’ve been out on a few runs so far; nothing out of the norm.  Work to home to work. I’ve got Jimin and Tae checking out some other stuff but nothing to report back yet.”

“Keep digging,” Namjoon insists. “She has everything she needs.  The knowledge and the access, but most importantly she has my sister’s trust.  That’s what worries me the most.”

He turns his attention to Hoseok.  “My sister. How is she holding up?”

Hoseok thinks back to the way you looked last night, back to that blank look on your face.

Not well.

“She’s tired,” he replies carefully. “Stressed out because she’s trying to rescue her case.  The snake shit did not help.”

“I’m sure it didn’t.”

“Speaking of which -- ” Yoongi interjects, “ -- that snake.  It’s an Indigo snake.  Not venomous.”

Namjoon lifts one eyebrow.

“I’m saying the Ssijog are not trying to hurt her, not really.  They only want to scare her into fucking up this case,” Yoongi reasons. “Trust me, they don’t want to make shit worse for themselves right now by adding a dead prosecutor to the mix.”

Hoseok winces at the logical-but-clumsy delivery of that last line.

Namjoon’s mouth pulls into a tight line as he leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers.  Hoseok has worked for the man long enough to know that he’s not the type to lash out when he gets angry.  Namjoon is the type to go quiet.  

Like right now.

He narrows his eyes at Yoongi before opening his mouth to speak.

“You’re probably right about that, Yoongi,” he says in a low, careful tone.  “But let me ask you this.  Is that a bet you’re willing to make with my sister’s life on the line?”

Yoongi -- wisely -- doesn’t answer that.

****************************

tag list!

@saintjeonofbusan​ @lemonjoonah​ @illnevertrustmyselfagain​ @sunkissed725​ @taetaewonderland​ @shadowhale​ @sugaminyoonjiji​ @jinhitwhore​ @trust-me-im-joly​ @daydreambrliever​ @jjeonjoon​ @ultraanonymousey​ @yoon-bug​ @multistantrash17​ @poohsaidhi​ @alyboo-jpeg​ @sahmfanficbts​​ @yoongissugarmommy @ppersonna​​ @p-polaroid​​ @vi-hoshi​​ @stressedinmedschool247​​ @jgissle12​​ @ctvrty​​

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts mafia #bts tsundere #hoseok mafia au #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btscreatorscorner #networkbangtan

[dreamsafterhours]

college boyfriend!markhyuk au series: II (donghyuk’s pathway)

a universe in which roommates!markhyuk meet each other's s/o in class

markhyuk are roommates, my/n and dy/n are roommates, mark and dy/n take classes together and so do donghyuk and my/n — how will their fates intertwine?

genre: fluff pairings: platonic!mark+dy/n format: dotpoint AU universe: non idol, college best friend warning: a lil swearing (best get used to it lol)

masterlist

or click here to continue your friendship with paediatrics!haechan!

I ⇤ | II | ⇥ III

II: relationship consolidation.. it’s platonic i swear

the fellowship continues (mark + dy/n)

so the month that follows your first meeting

is full of

a mixture of crackheadedness and tortured artist vibes

a lot of it is sending lit memes and other shit to each other at 2am when u have an 8am the next morning and yelling at each other for keeping u up so late but then laughing again at whatever the ridiculous punchline was

“to quote shakespeare’s hamlet, act v, scene ii, line 270: no”

/deep inhale/ /unhinged laughter/

that’s your inside joke for a whole two weeks mark couldn’t get the numbers right the first few times uwu poor confused thing but he got it after a while so good on him

in the second class after the first day, you try your best to find in him the crowd of people lining up to go into the lecture theatre but you can’t and it’s almost time to go in and—

oop you’re getting swept by the current of the masses

you still try to look for him even then

and luckily your attempts pay off !bc you do see him further up the stairs

,, but he’s

,.talking to another person, sitting in a seat on the end of the row 

slightly disappointed that you can’t sit together and get to know him better and hopefully become friends but !! still optimistic that you’ll just make new friends

you file into an empty seat near his row a little further down the stairs from where he was sitting

you take out your materials and start to go over your notes from the day before when

someone plops himself down on the seat next to you

you look up and before you can smile in greeting, you recognise

it’s mark!!

he says “heyyy” in that rlly soft voice idk if you’ve seen the vid of him going ʰᶦ but that’s the voice he uses here

and you’re like “oh hi! wait i thought i saw you sitting over there” pointing behind u

and he’s like “oh i just met a friend and i was saving his girlfriend’s seat haha.. she just arrived so they kicked me out and i saw u and !!yeah”

and u nod at him like “nice nice i thought you ditched me” jokingly ofc

“no no i was actually trying to find you but.. you’re too short”

“i’m what”

/whispers/ “i’m sorry omg don’t kill me pls”

/stands up straighter to assert dominance/ “say that again, marcus. say that again”

ajsagdfo cuties

“ok then should we meet somewhere before the lectures”

so you decide on the benches outside the building as Your Spot™

the lecture’s just an introduction to the first text in the syllabus bc . second class

and so there’s quite a bit of note taking,, naturally

mark forgets what the prof says before he can write it down and this particular prof, you learn, is prone to talking fast and then switching the lecture slides before anyone can write anything important down

poor mark is doing a lot of looking up at the slides and then down at his notebook and :(((

so r u but u seem to have better memory than him so u either have the lecture slides up if you’re a typer with your notes or manage to write your notes and still listen to the prof if you’re a writer idk yalls preferences so

meanwhile mark whispers under his breath,, half to himself

“what” don’t we all,, mark.. don’t we all

and he does that a few times so you look over and he’s written barely anything so at that point he’s almost just resorted to listening to the prof and not taking notes at all

then he seems to catch himself and he starts writing down whatever key terms the prof is spewing and you realise

kid’s blanking out lmfao

so you tell him you’ll send your notes over to him after class and he’s like !! R U SURE im so sorry im not used to this sPEED and i can’t put my hand up and ask him to slow down someone else has to do that

and u just nod and tell him it’s all g

so class ends and you wave goodbye (confirming to meet at the benches next week too) to go to your tutorial class that happens to be right after the lecture and so does he,,

and this is your thought process for the next five or so minutes:

there’s only one exit so surely he’s only going outside and not the same way as me

oh look he’s going the same way as me.. i’m sure he’s just going to another building ooh that’s a pretty cool tree

hey we can walk to our next classes together and then split up where we have to go in different directions

is he turning left or right left or right i’m going left left or right left or—wait oh cool

ah there’s a bunch of classes in this building too surely he’s on a different floor. see he’s going up the stairs—wait he’s going up the stairs.. so am i..,,,

nah surely he’s going up another floor

wait if he’s going up another floor.. why isn’t he going on the elevator

does he have a fear of enclosed spaces

does he have childhood trauma in an elevator

maybe he keeps fit by climbing stairs

lol this is my floor, be funny if..

hang on a second

HANG ON A SECOND

“HANG ON A SECOND” that wasn’t one of your thoughts btw that was. out loud

very loud

and he turns around, startled at your voice again

looking up from his phone and eyes getting wider than they were in their initial reaction

“wHAT THE—WAIT HOLD UP HOLD UP HOLD UP—”

he’s giggling at this point bc it’s so funny to him

“HOLD—YOU’RE?? in this tute too??”

“are we??—”

“—in the same class?” yall say that in unison bc that’s the proliferation of a Wholesome Friendship™ right there

u laugh bc wow this is my new best friend

“this is crazyyy”

“yeah what the f..” he highkey cuts himself off bc i mean day 2 guys

but then you

“exactly what the fuck...”

lmfao he knows then that it’s ok to swear with you

n e ways

y’all keep talking until your tutor arrives and lets you in the class

ofc you sit next to each other in the tute as well

you have a great time and class ends quicker than you thought bc you’re having fun and that’s always gewd

so the next few weeks u’re just vibing with each other

walking to class together after ur lectures

walking each other to other classes

studying together in the library in your spare time catching up on content and exploring ideas discussed in tutes for your shakespearean sonnets class

"o romeo, romeo, wherefore were thou and juliet teenage dumbfucks”

he couldn’t stop laughing at that for three days straight

“t..teENAGE /wheeze/ dUMBFUCKS HAHAHAHAHA”

getting pretty close basically

sharing hobbies and music tastes (u find out he plays guitar and it’s the biggest possession he brought into his dorm from his house and listens to frank ocean and john mayer a lot, watches fullmetal alchemist)

sometimes you’ll come to meet him at the benches full on catwalking down the path with your airpods in and resting bitch face on listening to some dope shit while the crowd parts for you and he’s just like O.O

how is she friends with me

he thinks you’re so cool it’s cute

but he’s also alr convinced himself that you’re so out of his league he highkey won’t dare try and make a move

n e ways

he sees ur airpods and he’s like “aren’t you afraid you’re gonna lose them one day”

and you just look at him and go “do i look like a fool, marcus”

he laughs so hard at that

complaining to you abt his roommate in real time over text like

marcus the fool 🤡: “dude he’s whining at me to ‘play with him’ i don’t want to play with him”

marcus the fool 🤡: “now he’s getting jealous of u”

marcus the fool 🤡: “he asks who u think u r”

you: “tell him i would fight him”

marcus the fool 🤡: “he says u won’t win”

you: “bet”

marcus the fool 🤡: “i told him u don’t need to fight for my attention bc uve alr got it”

marcus the fool 🤡: “now he’s fake crying”

marcus the fool 🤡: “he’s telling me to leave the house and leave the kids”

you: “am i a homewrecker now”

marcus the fool 🤡: “he calls u a homewrecker”

you: “tell him i’ll kiss it better”

one day like a month or so into your friendship

you rush to the benches with that look on your face that says you’re about to murder someone which usually disappears when you see him and take out your airpods bc rbf

so he ,, approaches with caution ,,, easy does it,,

yes he’s wondering if it’s your time of month

ngl it åctually was which makes things worse

t e n t a t i v e l y he asks on the way into the lecture theatre

“hey dy/n u ok?? u look.. ok nvm”

bc u lowkey glared at him but u didn’t mean to i swear u just looked at him but u were alr in a bad mood

so ure like “sorry yes i’m fine i didn’t have my coffee today so i may be a bit cranky”

“what happened? u sleep in or smth”

“yeah i slept at 4 last night”

“wHY did u do that”

“idK but i was running late just now and the line at the cafe was so long i stood in line for five minutes and i said nop class is abt to start”

“oh okey”

this keeps bugging him all throughout the lecture

so he turns to u when the lecture is over and he’s like

“u have another lecture next right”

“yes marcus i have another lecture that you’re taking with me”

“come ditch with me i’ll shout u a coffee”

“what really”

“for sure, we can catch up on the lecture in the library tonight”

and you remember that you’d made plans with your roommate my/n to go to the library that night anyway so you agree and let him know

so he’s like “oh rlly? can i bring my roomie along too he probs doesn’t have other plans anyway i hear they’re doing some kind of project so he better not be going anywhere” with a lil frown uwu angery mark

“sure don’t see why not. we’ll all study together”

“nice i’ll let him know”

“cool”

cool

u see where i’m going with this

waggles eyebrows

wink wink nudge nudge

click here to continue your friendship with paediatrics!haechan!

I ⇤ | II | ⇥ III

#dreamwritersnet #neohours #neowriters #nct au #markhyuck au #nct 127 au #nct dream au #nct x reader #markhyuck x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader #mark x reader #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #Mark AU #haechan au #donghyuck au #nct college #nct college au #eng lit mark #paediatrics haechan

[laruna]

— epiphany.

characters. lim yuri, kim namjoon, etc.

word count. 19.4k

genre. angst, fluff, friendship, slow burn

warnings. mentions of colorism and homophobia, family issues, arguments

summary. lim yuri keeps a long record of epiphanies, many of which concern a very special kim namjoon. and maybe accidentally falls in love in the process.

December 14, 2007. Lim Household. Seoul, South Korea.

An epiphany is an experience of a sudden and striking realization.

Lim Yuri learned that in English class today. Admittedly, it was the first time in that class that she’d actually heard a word she didn’t know. English was the only language her parents both spoke, so it was all she ever spoke at home. Naturally, it had always been a subject that she breezed through until today.

Normally, she wouldn’t think much of it, but today was the last day of school before the holiday break, her teacher has very cruelly given her class over-the-break work. It’s not like it was anything hard, just the simple task of reciting an epiphany you’ve had over the holidays in perfect English to the class. Unlike most of her classmates, the English wasn’t the hard part.

Yuri has never been very fond of sharing things about herself. She’s always found blending into the background made every aspect of her life easier, so sharing a sudden realization that she’s had sounds like it’ll imply a lot about her. She figures that she’ll just make a list. At the end, she can choose.

Epiphany #01: I look different from the other kids.

She’s not quite sure if that one counts. It’s not something she’s suddenly realized, after all, especially just over the break. It’s something she’s known for a while now, slowly having come to realize it after all the little moments piled up. It’s in everything—the way the other kids in class look at her unless she keeps her head down, the way people talk to her in English first like she’s a foreigner, the way her aunt tells her she has the skin of Jeju and Busan’s beach girls. At first, she’d taken that last one as a compliment, but her aunt had run to the bathroom to give her a bottle of skin lightening cream before Yuri could say anything. Which was mortifying, to say the least.

Sometimes she does wish she lived in Busan instead. Even though her father grew up there, he never seems to have anything good to say about the city, always opting to badmouth everyone he left there instead. He tells her she should be grateful to live in Seoul where the people only say bad things when you’re not around, because they’re blatant about that kind of thing where he’s from. He tells her that the Looks she gets here in Seoul are soft and easy on her. Busanians are too honest.

She doesn’t say it out loud, but sometimes Yuri thinks Seoulites aren’t honest enough. Her mother always tells her not to care too much about what other people think, but she feels like it’d be a lot easier if people just insulted her to her face so she doesn’t have to worry about what they say about her behind the scenes. Is it worse than the insults she comes up with in her head? Is it kinder? Is it pitying? Do they see her and then think nothing at all?

She wishes she didn’t even have to think about these things at all. Sometimes she envies her brothers, because they get treated better than her. Her parents tell her it’s because they look more Korean, but Yuri has no idea what that could possibly mean. She thinks her classmates are distinguishable when she looks at them. They have different shaped eyes and faces and skin tones. Her differences are a smidge more obvious, to be sure, but she doesn’t see why it should be something that affects her social life as much as it does.

But at the end of the day, it does, so Yuri does her best to cause as little problems as possible. She doesn’t meet with her brothers to walk home together until they’re three blocks away from school so that people don’t know they’re related and start picking on them too. 

Her older brother isn’t happy about it, but he understands. He wishes she didn’t have to, but knows that it’s better this way. He apologizes to her for the ‘colorist, xenophobic, homogeneous society’ they live in. Yuri doesn’t understand what any of those words mean, but she nods along anyway.

Daniel, her poor angel of a little brother, doesn’t get it at all. He doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with her. Her heart breaks a little when he says that he wishes his noona would wave back at him when they pass each other on campus. 

Yuri’s mother comforts her with the thought that if she lived in the Philippines, where she’s from, she’d be considered very beautiful. But she doesn't live in Busan or the Philippines. She lives in Seoul. So, being the weird-looking kid it is.

Thankfully, she’s not entirely isolated. Even if her parents aren’t kind to each other, they’re kind to her and she knows they love her very much. And even if the kids from the music program she’s in with her older brother make a couple of insensitive comments from time to time, but for the most part, they’re nice as long as she does her part and sings her songs—that’s what brings her the most joy.

Despite everything that goes on in her life, it’s music that constantly remains her greatest love and comfort. Her older brother, Kyunghee, must feel the same way, because he’s always cooped up in her room with her and making music when their parents are arguing again and he doesn’t want to deal with it since his bedroom is right next to theirs. 

If there’s anything positive to be gleaned from it, it’s that they have something to bond over that isn’t the yelling that comes from upstairs. Over time, he’s even taught her a thing or two about music. She can’t compose anything on the piano like he can, but he’s taught her the basics of beat-making on some cracked version of GarageBand he pirated from the internet.

For whatever reason, he’s been really into hip-hop lately, so that’s what they’ve been making beats for. She can’t blame him, though. As a VIP, she’s kind of in the same boat. The fiery bars and pure charisma of the Kwon Jiyong was too much for a music-obsessed teenage girl to resist. It’s a little more personal for Kyunghee, though. 

Shin Donghyuk is her brother’s best friend and a self-proclaimed underground rapper, despite only beginning to rap around a year ago. He’s not terrible or anything—the dude’s actually gained a good following since he began uploading his freestyles to Hiphopplaya and Jungle Radio. 

Still, Yuri finds it a little bit suspicious that he started rapping around the same time her brother started producing. She can’t help but wonder if Kyunghee began producing to help Donghyuk’s budding rap career or if Donghyuk started rapping because Kyunghee started making beats he could rap over. It’s like the chicken or the egg question.

It’s none of her business, she supposes, but Yuri’s still curious about their dynamic. All she knows is that, around school, she never sees one without the other, and that they’re always cooped up in the music room. She never approaches them because her older brother always looks like he’s in his own little world when he’s with Donghyuk and interrupting would make her feel like an interloper.

Her brother doesn’t seem to mind introducing them now, though. Today is apparently a big day for Donghyuk, because he’s going to be performing at a rap showcase at some club in Hongdae. Yuri thinks that it’s weird for them to be inviting fourteen year-old boys to clubs, but her brother assures her that the whole event is for rapping, so there’ll be no drinks around. So she guesses it’s okay.

“I’m, uh, not sure, though,” he admits to her on the subway. “But don’t drink anything that anyone gives you. Don’t drink anything at all, actually. But don’t be uncool about it, either. Just��don’t embarrass me in front of Donghyuk, okay?”

“Okay,” Yuri says, rolling her eyes. Donghyuk is a figure she’s only seen in passing, but hasn’t actually met. Despite his friendship with her brother, he’s never been at their house, but when Yuri remembers the way her parents’ arguments resound through the walls, she can’t blame her brother for never inviting him over. She also can’t blame him for escaping to his friend’s house after school, sometimes. His escape is usually her bedroom, but sometimes it’s too loud even in there.

Hongdae Station, Seoul, South Korea.

Yuri clings to her brother’s arm as they get off the subway station, and she can practically feel him vibrating in excitement to see his friend. Donghyuk is at the venue early like all the other performers, so they’re meeting him there. She makes it clear that she doesn’t get what all the fuss is about.

“It’ll be exciting to see him in action,” is all her brother says. “You’ve only heard recordings, no? And you’ll get to hear all the other underground rappers that use our free beats and stuff, too. So look on the bright side! Even if their rapping sucks balls, it’ll be funny. Plus, it’ll be a good networking opportunity if you ever wanna go into entertainment. If they look important, just pretend to like it.” She snorts at his insincerity.

“How business-savvy of you.”

Yuri has to squint when they finally get into the club. It’s dark and it’s loud, as one would expect, so she holds tighter onto her brother’s arm in the hopes that she won’t get lost. It was so bright outside, but the atmosphere inside makes it feel like it’s nighttime. If it weren’t for all the yelling, she would probably think of it as calming.

“Kyunghee! Over here!” she hears a voice call over the crowd, and turns to see a figure that she can vaguely make out as Donghyuk. Before she knows it, she’s being dragged all the way across the room towards the stage, muttering awkward apologies every time she bumps into someone.

Yuri’s dizzy once her brother makes a stop, tuning out the niceties and conversation he has with Donghyuk to gather her bearings. She doesn’t snap back into reality until she feels her older brother clap a hand down onto her shoulder.

“This is my sister,” he says, and she waves awkwardly. “I’ve been teaching her beats and stuff, too. I think we used one of hers on your last mixtape…? Her beats are under GLASS. You better get good, because I think she’s been learning more than you have.” 

So her brother is helping Donghyuk learn how to produce, too. Makes her feel a little less special.

“Luna, right?” he asks, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Weird name. Sounds like a video game character.” He puts his fist out. She’s flushing at his bluntness, but awkwardly bumps it, anyway. She’s trying to be polite and not embarrass her brother, after all.

“Oh, that’s what my brother and mom call me,” she explains, “Everyone at school calls me Yuri.”

“Makes sense. I just used Luna since that’s what Kyungie calls you,” he explains, and Yuri feels a little surge of pride at the fact that her brother talks about her to his friends. “Want me to call you Yuri, then? You probably get called that more by your friends and stuff, right?”

“I don’t really have friends,” she admits, wincing as soon as the words leave her mouth, because honestly, that sounded a lot less sad in her head. Donghyuk doesn’t seem to notice though, because he’s practically howling with laughter.

“Fuck, Yuri, you’re funny!” he laughs, clapping a hand down a little too forcefully on one of her delicate shoulders. She winces again at that, but nervously laughs along like it’s a joke and not just… her life. She also accepts Donghyuk’s bestowment of the name Yuri. It’s just a name, but maybe it’s his way of telling her that he’s her friend now. Which is kinda nice.

He seems nice enough, but he’s too brash and loud and blunt for Yuri to comprehend how he could possibly be best friends with someone as soft-spoken as her Kyunghee. Still, she’s glad her brother has a good friend, even if her current interactions with Donghyuk are kinda weird.

“So,” Kyunghee interrupts, having had enough of the awkward atmosphere. “You said in your text they wanted help with sound check?” Seems a little trashy to make teenage boys help out with this kind of thing, Yuri thinks.

“Yeah,” Donghyuk confirms. “They can only have three people in the sound booth, including the guy who’s already there. C’mon!” Kyunghee looks all too giddy as Donghyuk grabs his arm and drags him away, probably to the aforementioned sound booth. In the moment, he looks too carefree to be her worrywart of a brother.

“You can handle yourself, yeah?” he yells out to her as he’s being dragged away. He doesn’t wait for her to answer before he’s out of earshot.

“Totally,” Yuri says sarcastically to herself.

Alone, she finds herself weaving through the crowd again. Without her brother around, she finds herself easily slipping in between everybody thanks to her small stature. She takes in soft lights and harsh voices as she makes her way towards the seats by the entrance, which seems a bit more void of people. Everything around her is too stimulating right now. Soft lights. Harsh voices. 

Yuri’s almost there when she bumps into a tall male figure. She looks up to see sharp eyes narrow at her, so threatening and intense that she almost jumps back. His street clothes help up the intimidation factor, along with the dark beanie concealing his jet black hair.

“Sorry,” she mutters. He doesn’t reply, gently shoving her out of the way before continuing to trudge along his weird, bendy path. She watches as the big guy bumps into a few other people before coming to a realization.

“Hey!” she calls out to him, and he whips around to narrow his eyes at her (again), which she now realizes is more of a squint than a glare. “Are you looking for your glasses?”

His eyes soften, gaze immediately turning away from her in embarrassment.

“N-No!” he sputters, but the way he says it makes it very obvious he’s lying. She really doesn’t know why she’s attempting to help this guy out in the first place. Either she feels bad, or she just wants to be right. 

Probably the latter, if she’s being honest.

“If you admit it, I’ll help you find them,” she says.

“...I lost my glasses.”

They’re probably a sight to see, the tall boy squinting down at the ground with Yuri practically glued to his hip, finding a much easier time seeing with her contacts and closer proximity to the ground.

“How’d you lose them anyway?” she asks, and he sheepishly rubs at the back of his neck.

“It was in my back pocket,” he explains. “To be honest, I didn’t even realize I’d dropped them until I reached for them and they weren’t there.”

“Why weren’t you, like, actually wearing them?” she asks, matter-of-factly.

“I’m rapping soon,” he says like that’s an explanation. “It won’t help my image.” 

“Oh, ugh.” 

“What?” he says.

“Are all you rap dudes like this?” she asks, “Just swallow your pride and don’t hurt your eyeballs trying to look cool. If your rapping is good enough, it doesn’t matter if you look like a loser or not.”

“Gee, thanks,” he says sarcastically.

“Look, I didn’t mean it like that,” she defends herself. “You don’t look like a loser and there’s nothing wrong with glasses. I think the only person who seems to have a problem with it is you.”

“Name one successful rapper with glasses,” he retorts.

“Swings,” she says immediately.

“Shit,” he mutters, and she laughs at him. “Oh, fuck off.”

“Hey, be nice!” she huffs. “You’re a complete stranger and I’m helping you find your glasses. For all I know, you could be leading me outside to kidnap and murder me. Heck, I don’t even know your name!” He rolls his eyes as she points this out, but answers, anyway.

“Namjoon,” he says.

“What?”

“That’s my name. Namjoon,” he repeats, stretching out a hand. When Yuri takes a look at it, she realizes just how big he is. His hand would absolutely dwarf hers. 

“Yuri,” she says formally. When she steps forward to shake his hand, she feels her foot clink against something and hears the light sound of plastic sliding across the floor. “Oh, your glasses!” 

The lenses are thick, she notes as she picks them up. Damn, no wonder he was bumping into everyone. His vision must suck. Other than a few scratches on the lenses, they seem fairly undamaged. Even so, she gently blows a warm breath onto the lenses and wipes them off with the sleeves of her hoodie. Less gently, she pulls Namjoon down by the strings of his hoodie so that they’re at eye-level with one another before putting his glasses back on his face. Even in the low light, she can see the embarrassed flush across his cheeks.

“Thanks for the help,” he says sheepishly, quickly straightening up and pulling away. “Gotta go now. It’s showtime.” And then he’s off.

“Who the hell says ‘it’s showtime’ out loud?!” she yells after him, not ready to give this guy a break just yet. 

“Who the hell wears their jacket like that?!” he turns around to yell back. Involuntarily, she pulls on the side of the puffy down jacket she leaves hanging off of her body. When she flounders for a response, he just laughs at her, a deep, loud thing that booms over the chatter of the crowd. She bets the sound could fill the whole room if it were empty.

She looks away, embarrassed, when she notices people are seating themselves and quickly plops herself down on the nearest seat. Well, shit. It really is showtime.

A lot of the rappers are vaguely familiar to her, and she’s struck with the realization that names she’d only seen online now have actual physical forms. They’re obviously passionate about what they’re doing, and now she kind of feels bad for how her and her brother used to roast whoever they deemed ‘the worst ones’ from behind their computer screen.

When Donghyuk steps up, the host introduces him as Suprema—yes, like the hype beast brand. She shivers as the Douche Chills overtake her body. Despite his overwhelming teenage boy-ness, he’s pretty okay, or at the very least, better than she expected. But the bar was pretty low, if she’s being honest. Kyunghee probably thinks the world of his skills, though.

The only other familiar face she sees is introduced as Runch Randa, and she has to stop herself from cooing at how cute she finds the stage name. She also has to stop herself from rolling her eyes all the way into the back of her head when she realizes he’s not wearing his fucking glasses.

As much as she wants to clown on him, she finds herself speechless when Namjoon steps up to the mic and spits straight fire, his narrowed eyes making him look all the more intense. While he’s not quite as aggressive as some of the other rappers she’s heard, his lyrics are riddled with wordplay and double-meanings that it takes her a couple of seconds to wrap her head around.

She’s snapped out of her reverie when she hears the crowd cheering, prompting her to clap along. Thoughts of Runch Randa dissipate as the next act steps up. She doesn’t quite recognize the name or face, so she lets herself get lost in the music without predisposition. When she recognizes one of her beats being used as background music, her heart beats a little bit faster.

Yuri knows that posting them online for free means lots of people will use them, but it’s another thing to actually see it in action. The amount of amateur rappers, good and bad, using her music and appreciating what she does for them makes her feel all warm and fuzzy. Huh. Maybe that’s why Kyunghee enjoys helping out Donghyuk with his rapping endeavors so much.

By the time the show is over, she’s warm and happy, but also very drained of energy. She has half a mind to head backstage to search for her brother, but the thought of swimming through the moving crowd makes her nauseous, so she heads outside instead. Kyunghee will find her eventually.

It’s dark when Donghyuk and Kyunghee finally come outside, laughing over ‘some newbie’s shitty freestyle’ with their arms slung over the other’s shoulders. They talk animatedly about what they liked and hated on the walk to the station and in the subway. Yuri nods along to the conversation despite having been tuned out for a while now. The only thing in her head is music. In the moment, something about that feels very important.

Epiphany #02: Music is something Lim Yuri wants to do for a long time. Maybe forever.

January 12, 2008. Starbucks, Seoul, South Korea.

Ever since that show in Hongdae, Yuri’s been more in love with music than ever. Naturally, she’s thrust herself into it with a passion, making new instrumentals when she’s at home and working on improving her vocals with the kids from her music program when she isn’t. Other than that, though, she hasn’t exactly left her house. Not until today, at least.

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one meeting new people at that Hongdae show—Donghyuk and Kyunghee had done a good amount of networking backstage, exchanging numbers and starting a group chat with a bunch of other underground rappers. In time, they decided that the others were cool enough to work on music with in-person. So here they are, Yuri and Kyunghee spending their last Saturday of winter break waiting for everyone else to arrive.

Suddenly, Donghyuk enters with a very familiar figure in tow.

Namjoon grimaces as soon as he makes eye contact with her, and Yuri has to bite her lip to hold in her laughter, because damn, this dude really sucks at keeping a straight face. Neither action goes unnoticed, it seems, because Donghyuk sweeps his gaze back and forth between the two.

“You two know each other?” he asks, and Yuri nods, a devilish grin on her face. Namjoon’s expression of anguish only deepens when Donghyuk adds, “Oh, nice. Is he cool?”

Namjoon sends a nervous glance her way, looking like a kid who’s just been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. It endears her, for whatever reason, so Yuri spares his pride.

“Yeah,” she giggles, unable to hold her laughter in anymore, “Yeah, Namjoon’s cool.” His body relaxes at that, but the tips of his ears still glow bright red.

“Hey,” Kyunghee says, nudging her arm. “He’s our age. Don’t go talking to him casually, now. Show some respect.” She rolls her eyes, but obliges.

“Namjoon-oppa,” she corrects herself, and he smiles, looking a bit too satisfied at that. Maybe it’s because now he has something to hold over her head, too. It lowkey makes her want to smack him. Before she can say anything, though, two slightly less familiar figures walk through the door,

They introduce themselves as Hunchul and Ikje, or by stupid-teenage-boy-rap-name, Iron and i11evn, respectively. Yuri finds both monikers considerably cooler than Suprema and Runch Randa, if she was being honest. The guys themselves, though, are a lot less cool.

Ikje is twenty, which is like, okay, weird. It makes sense when Donghyuk cracks a joke about him being a little drunk when they exchanged contact information. What kind of twenty year-old was keen on hanging out with a bunch of fourteen year-old boys and one of the boy’s twelve year-old kid sister? He’s a little immature, to be sure, but passionate about rapping. And that’s what everyone is there for, so she lets it slide purely because he doesn’t seem like a creeper.

Despite being the same age as her brother and everyone else, Hunchul does seem like a creeper.

“You’re Glass, right?” he asks, shaking her hand. “I’m Iron. Our names kind of match, right?” 

“Um, yeah, I guess,” she says, forcing a laugh. Awkwardly, she continues, “My big brother chose the name for me… because my name is Yuri… and that sounds like glass.”

“Big brother?” he asks. “Kyunghee is my age, you know. How old does that make you?” Her cringe reflex nearly kicks in, infinitely uncomfortable at this point.

“Thirteen next month,” she answers honestly, and fights the urge to cringe when he pats her head. As touch-starved as she is, she’s not this desperate.

“Ha, cute,” he laughs. She doesn’t think he’s very funny. She’s always prided herself on her instincts, and something about Hunchul just feels off.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have to deal with him for long. The group all converses for a while, but soon enough, they’ve all kind of splintered off into pairs for conversation. As expected, Kyunghee’s first pick for this is Donghyuk. Naturally, she gravitates towards Namjoon.

“Hey, glasses guy,” she says, and he flushes.

“Oh God, please don’t let that become a thing,” he says, wrinkling his nose.

“Sorry,” she says, even though she really isn’t.

“It’s fine,” he says, scratching nervously at his face. “I actually wanted to thank you again for that. I lose things a lot and my mom probably would’ve killed me if I lost my glasses.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” she assures him, but the gratitude still has her glowing.

“I should probably thank you for producing, too,” he continues, “When your brother said you were a 96-liner in our group chat, I was so surprised, because I recognized your account name since I’d used your beats before, since they’re free and all. You’re really talented.”

“Oh,” Yuri says softly, covering her flushed cheeks and wide smile with her hands. Her glee is soon apparent when she fails to hide a giggle, preening under his praises. Her voice goes small when she finally replies, ducking her head. “Well. You’re very welcome.” He laughs at her sudden bashfulness.

Conversation continues smoothly, even if it’s mostly about music. The atmosphere emanating from their little group in the cafe is warm and lively. Even when the barista has to come over to tell the group to simmer down, she can’t find it in herself to be upset.

She hasn’t had many friends in her life, but the way things are going, she feels like she will soon. She makes a mental note to add it to the list when she gets home.

Epiphany #03: Lim Yuri is capable of making friends, after all.

January 16, 2008. Lim Household, Seoul, South Korea.

It’s been two days since school started back up, but it already makes Yuri want to claw her eyes out. She ended up just bullshitting that English assignment and spitting out some shit about how she had an epiphany about platypi being the only mammals to lay eggs or something.

But for whatever reason, she’s still adding onto that epiphany list. Kyunghee catches her adding onto it one night and says that she probably likes it because it gives her life more structure. She tells him it’s not that deep, bro. 

But maybe it is. Who knows. She adds it to the Epiphany List, just to be safe.

Epiphany #04: I like things that give my life structure.

Her mind jumps to the very turbulent, very unstructured family life they have at home, and thinks that maybe he might be onto something. Thankfully, it’s not that bad today, but her parents are still not speaking to one another and shooting each other passive-aggressive stares from across the table, thinking their kids won’t notice. If she had the balls, she’d tell them how obvious they are.

Unfortunately, her younger brother Daniel does have the balls. When he opens his mouth to speak, their mother must sense the impending bullshit, and quickly interrupts.

“How was school?” she asks, turning to Kyunghee—easily the most diplomatic of the three of them.

“It was good,” he says, “Classes were good. Friends were good.”

“Any friends in particular? Of the romantic variety?” she teases, poking him a couple of times in the side. Their mama loved gossip too much. Everytime they brought it up, she’d say I’m Filipino, I can’t help it! Gossiping is in my blood! Yuri and Daniel roll their eyes fondly at her antics—usually, Kyunghee would be doing the same.

But he doesn’t.

“Uh, n-no,” he stutters. Kyunghee always stutters when he’s lying. There’s a beat of silence before Kyunghee answers. Their mother looks entirely too pleased with the fact that after what has to be the thousandth time of asking about this topic, her hunch is finally right.

“Subtle, hyung,” Daniel snorts. “Way to be fuckin’ obvious.” Their father reaches over and pulls at his ear.

“Don’t curse, Jaeyeol,” he says. Daniel shrinks in his seat.

“Sorry.”

The rest of dinner is tense, their dad having successfully killed the vibe. They wash their dishes and clear the table in awkward silence, every action done hurriedly so they can get the fuck out of there as fast as possible. Afterwards, everyone else files back into their respective rooms, but Yuri follows her older brother instead. Fer and her older brother are both in middle school, so she’s curious if she knows whoever her mom was teasing him about. Always too nosy for her own good, she’s determined to find out. Maybe it’s that Filipino blood her mother was talking about.

Kyunghee doesn’t think much of it when she follows him back into his room. Maybe it was because of the age difference, but he was always closer to her than he was to Daniel, just like Yuri was always closer to Daniel than he was to Kyunghee. Her coming into his room to talk about stuff—especially music, these days—was commonplace. He pays no mind as she flops onto his bed, making his way over to sit at his desk and turn on his computer instead.

“Soooo,” Yuri says obnoxiously, just as a little sister should. “Who is she?”

She was expecting Kyunghee to roll his eyes at her like he always did, not quite spilling the deets but dropping little hints and hoping she’d dig enough to get it. But there’s none of that—instead, he presses his lips into a thin line and shakes his head.

“Drop it, Yuri,” he says through clenched teeth, turning around in his seat to glare at her. His tone is so sharp that she can’t help but to curl in on herself. He must see the fear in her response, because his expression immediately softens.

“Look, I’m sorry, just—just forget about it. It’s nothing, Yuri, okay?” he sighs. Normally, she wouldn’t ask her older brother to do anything he didn’t want to, but Kyunghee isn’t normally this secretive with her. Naturally, she’s more than a little curious. Butting into other people’s business was her favorite pastime, after all.

“I won’t judge, I promise,” she assures him, “Everyone likes someone for a reason, you know? I promise I won’t laugh or anything, even if she’s a total weirdo—”

“It’s not a she, Yuri.” He’s turned back to his screen by now, but even just from his profile Yuri can see the flush of mortification on his face.

“Wait, that means…” she trails off and everything clicks. “Oh, oppa.”

“This isn’t something you can help me with,” he cuts her off tersely. “This isn’t something you can understand. Just—just go to your room, Yuri.” He sounds like their dad. It makes her feel small.

Regardless, she nods, plodding along back to her room with a heavy heart. When she gets there, she sits at her desk and opens up her journal, adding another bullet to her epiphany journal.

Epiphany #05: Sometimes you won’t be able to understand what someone is going through, no matter how hard you try. No matter how hard you want to.

January 18, 2008. DGBD Club, Hongdae, South Korea.

It’s moments like these that make Yuri remember that, oh yeah, these rap clubs are still clubs.

Ikje is the only one of legal drinking age, so he’s the only one downing alcohol on the opposite side of the club. Hunchul is sat right there next to him in the corner of the bar, handing the bartender more and more money so he can witness his friend get absolutely shitfaced. Unlike Ikje, he is not of legal drinking age, but that will not deter him from seeking entertainment in any way he can… even at his friend’s expense. Meanwhile, Kyunghee and Donghyuk mess around in soundcheck and Namjoon looks to sit as far away from Ikje and Hunchul as he can get. 

It’s kind of endearing, she thinks, the way Namjoon is so straight-laced about these things, despite his ‘hard’ underground persona. Outside of it, he comes off as kind of a stickler. Maybe a little dweeby, but it’s why she trusts him more than the others, so she pays it little mind when he situates himself next to her at the opposite side of the club so he’s not alone.

Poor Namjoon, her low self-esteem weeps for him. Having to kick it with Kyunghee’s annoying kid sister.

He’s nice enough, so she supposes he’s good at humoring her. Kyunghee would kill him if he was anything but polite to her. That, or the more likely possibility that he’s being nice because this is a business transaction, which makes sense, too. She’s just here to be the producer to his rapper, the Kyunghee to his Donghyuk… minus the lifelong friendship part.

She doesn’t know why talking to him is so daunting when they spoke extensively in the group chat—which she is very proud to say she made her brother add her to last Sunday—so it’s not like they’re strangers. She didn’t love the vibes in there, but they never did anything to make her feel like she was on the outskirts of it all. That’s something she’s imposed on herself. She just didn’t know what to talk about in the chat if it didn’t have to do with music.

She tries not to think much of it, distracting herself with the notebook in her lap. In it, she takes little notes on all the different rappers and indie artists she sees performing throughout the night. On top of her writing it in English, she doubts anyone would understand the references and shorthand she uses, so she makes little move to cover it when Namjoon leans over and squints at it.

“Nosy,” she chides playfully.

“Sorry.” He pulls away with a flush. “What are you writing about?”

“Oh. It’s just like, an analysis, kind of? Of everyone’s different rapping styles,” she explains. “Like flow and lyricism and genre and stuff like that. It’s kind of just for me. I produce better if I know who I’m producing for and how they sound, y’know?” He nods.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he says. Leaning over to peek at it again, he adds, “Your handwriting is nice, by the way. I didn’t know you were so good at English.”

“Yeah, my brother and I are both fluent,” she says, looking down at her hands. “We speak it at home. But like, I’m no good with words, so I’d be no good for songwriting help or whatever. I don’t know. It’s dumb. I’m dumb. I’m fluent in two languages, but can’t speak like… in general. That’s why I’m a beatmaker and not a songwriter.” 

Oh God, she rambled.

Namjoon is staring right at her when she looks back up. She forces herself not to look away—that would be suspicious, right?—despite the probing, unreadable expression on his face making her cheeks heat in embarrassment. Conversations between them rarely strayed into personal territory, especially when their whole relationship was about music. In her head, she repeats the phrase business transaction over and over again like a mantra. She can’t help but feel like she’s crossed a boundary.

“If it helps any,” he offers with a grin, “My mom’s trying to get me to learn English by making me watch Friends. I can’t make out what your notes say quite yet, but I like to think I’m getting pretty good.” Yuri laughs at that, surprised but relieved.

“You strike me as a Chandler,” she says. “Maybe a Ross.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m very offended by that second accusation,” he says, but he’s still smiling. She giggles into her hands.

“Sorry,” she says, despite not being very apologetic at all. “If you ever need help with English stuff, you know. I’m here.”

She doesn’t know why she says that, but it feels right. It feels like something a friend would say.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he says, “I’d like that.” That feels like something a friend would say, too.

They very coincidentally spend the rest of the night talking about Friends. They both agree that Ross is a douchebag and that Rachel deserves better. They talk and talk until it’s closing time and the club owner starts yelling at them to just say goodnight and go! Before kicking them out. Everyone stumbles out of the door bursting with laughter, with even shitfaced Ikje giggling drunkenly as he hangs off of Kyunghee’s shoulder.

They’re still laughing even as they run through the streets in a frantic attempt to catch the last subway. Yuri can’t help but think that it feels just like those teenage coming-of-age movies, the ones where they go to high school parties with red Solo cups in their hands. It almost feels like a dream, a fantasy that she never thought she’d get to have.

Namjoon lets her hold his hand so he can drag her along as they run, seeing as her short legs don’t allow her to keep up with the others. She wonders if it’s the cold night air or the way that he links their fingers together that make her cheeks flush.

Epiphany #06: Lim Yuri has a friend.

March 15, 2008. PC Bang, Hongdae, South Korea.

Okay, so maybe Kim Namjoon is not necessarily a friend, per se.

Not to say that he’s unfriendly, or that he doesn’t want to be her friend, but friendship is the kind of thing that develops slowly, right? They’d only just started hanging out recently, after all, and the age and gender difference was bound to make forming a meaningful friendship just a little bit harder.

At this point, though, he’s definitely more than a business partner. Maybe not a friend just yet, but more than just an acquaintance. He feels like a classmate, a peer. Her answering his texts asking for help with English homework has definitely helped with that, as of late. Conversations have continued to stay outside of personal territory, especially when the others were around. 

While Friday nights were reserved for rap performances at DGBD Club, Saturdays were for going out somewhere that they could work on music together or just chilling and hanging out together. They rarely ever met up on Sundays, which were reserved for Yuri helping her mom at her job of doing vocal training with the weird musical theater kids. For Kyunghee and Namjoon, Sundays were cram school days, and for the others… she didn’t really care how the others spent their Sundays, if she was being honest.

As of today, they’ve decided to migrate to a PC bang since there’s a distinct lack of baristas yelling at them to shut up. Plus, if they want to take a break to play MapleStory, they won’t have to worry about the club or the cafe having a shitty bandwidth. 

They’ve got a two-person-per-computer policy, and Yuri finds herself immediately paired off with Namjoon. She doesn’t feel like pairing off with her brother—his energy has been kind of awkward around her since his confession—and she doesn’t like the rest of the guys’ vibes, so Namjoon it is.

They’re stuck away from the others, the only available computers in the PC bang spread far away from each other. She notices he’s talking to her a bit more freely. Self-consciously, she wonders if it’s because he’s embarrassed to talk to her around their friends or if he’s intimidated by her older brother breathing down his neck.

“Do you not like them?” Namjoon asks, out of the blue.

“Huh?” she says, blinking a couple of times in surprise. “Who? What? What are you talking about?”

“You know,” he says. “The others. Hunchul and Donghyuk and Ikje-hyung and them.”

“I don’t dislike anyone,” Yuri huffs, maybe too defensively. “I just—I don’t know. I mean, I don’t like them, but it’s not like I dislike them.”

“Why though?” he asks. “Did they do something weird?”

“No, nothing like that,” she assures him. After a long while of thinking, she admits, “I just don’t like their energy, I guess. I get weird vibes from them, you know?” Namjoon scoffs.

“You shouldn’t pass that kind of judgement without reason,” he says. “You’re smart. Use your brain.”

“I’m not really that smart,” she laughs nervously, ducking her head to hide the flush on her cheeks. “I only use my brain, like, thirty percent of the time.” He laughs at that. For whatever reason, it feels like victory.

“C’mon, don’t say that,” he says reassuringly, “You come up with like, five new beats a week.”

“That’s different!” she argues. “Producing is more… subjective? Than words and lyrics and stuff, I mean. So you can just go with your gut to see if it sounds good or not. You don’t have to think too hard like you do when you write lyrics. Putting stuff into words is hard. Feeling my way through stuff has worked for me ‘til now, so I’m gonna keep doing that.” He shakes his head at that, but relents.

“You do you, I guess,” he says. “But I think I’d choose going using my brain over my gut any day.”

“Did you use your brain when you were bumping into everyone at the club ‘cause you lost your glasses? Or were you using your gut?” she asks cheekily. “It kinda seemed like you were using neither, if we’re being honest.” He rolls his eyes before leaning over to flick her on the forehead.

“Shut up,” he laughs, a flush on his cheeks. When he turns back to the computer screen, she can see his profile from where she’s standing next to their desk. She notices something she hadn’t before, and it makes her realize she’s never quite seen him grin so long. She lets out a little gasp of delight.

“What?” he says.

“Nothing.” 

He furrows his brows at her response, but doesn’t press it any further, either. When she gets home, she gleefully adds her newfound discovery to her list.

Epiphany #07: Kim Namjoon has dimples.

It’s an unexpectedly cute addition to the hard rap persona she’s always envisioned him with.

May 17, 2008. Lim Household, Seoul, South Korea.

“Holy shit, this place is nice,” Donghyuk whistles as he takes off his shoes.

Yuri is not exactly thrilled about Kyunghee inviting everyone over to their house.

Chilling together at PC bangs and the DGBD Club was one thing, but inviting these people into her home was… not ideal. She didn’t exactly love being vulnerable around other people, so she considered her house a safe space to do just that. Having guests over makes her feel like she’s in school again—and just like when she’s in school, she would prefer to be blissfully ignored.

Thankfully, she is. The boys are all switching between fucking around on her and her brother’s shared MIDI keyboard and kicking each other’s asses on Kyunghee’s copy of Super Smash Bros. Brawl for Wii. She also gets to stuff her face, so she supposes it’s not all that bad. Their mom had made way too much food, impossibly happy that Kyunghee was finally bringing friends home. It was unprecedented for him. Sadly, she could guess why this was the first time for that, seeing as he had very conveniently picked the day that their dad was gone on a business trip.

She quietly sits in the corner and eats her tteokbokki, careful not to spill any of the sauce on her notebook as she writes in it. She nearly chokes when Namjoon makes his way towards her, because she can’t quite wrap her head around it. It makes her a little tingly when he chooses to spend time around her even though he really doesn’t have to.

Now that she thinks about it, they’ve been doing that a lot lately. Hanging out alone, she means. Texting each other one-on-one rather than in the group chat, heading out to Hongdae separate from Kyunghee and Donghyuk, going out to PC bangs and Starbucks without everyone else. In the beginning, it was just so they could tutor each other, as they’d made the deal that while she helped him with his English, he’d help her with the horror that was linear equations.

Yuri can’t fathom how he can find English so hard but algebra so easy. It’s very Namjoon-like, she thinks. He’s incredible at very niche things, but he can’t do things that most people can do. She’d never want to humiliate him by asking, but Kyunghee heard from Donghyuk that Namjoon can’t tie his shoelaces correctly. And honestly? She believes it. He strikes her as a scatterbrained genius.

She thinks about Namjoon a lot lately, for whatever reason. But not in a bad way. If anything, she regards even his worst quirks fondly, like how he duct tapes his bag because he keeps accidentally breaking the strap off or those times (yes, there were multiple) he made them run back to the PC bang while they were walking back to the subway station because he suddenly remembered that he left his phone there. Despite all this, for whatever reason, she’s been feeling exceptionally shy around him lately. 

Is this what it’s like having a friend? She doesn’t know if it’s just the fluttery excitement of a new friendship, but it makes her face go hot. It only gets worse when he leans over her where she’s sitting at the table, his chest lightly pressed against the back of her seat.

“What are you writing in there?” he asks.

“Just stuff I’ve noticed,” she says casually. “Nothing interesting.”

“I see my name there, though,” he says, and she immediately clamps her hand over the page. Her response makes him chuckle.

“I thought you couldn’t read English,” she says, cheeks flushed.

“I’ve improved. Thanks for that, by the way,” he teases. That bastard. “What is that? What did you write about me?”

“It’s the same thing I was working on in Hongdae,” she admits. “The music analysis notebook.”

“And you wrote about me?” he asks.

“Yes?” she says, like it’s obvious. “You’re pretty prominent, dude.” 

“Interesting,” he says, looking at her expectantly.

“What?”

“Are you gonna tell me what it says?” he asks. “You wrote about me, so it’s only fair, right?”

“I guess,” she says, flushing.

“What’s this say?” he asks, pointing to a sentence that follows his name.

“Oh, that just… that just describes how like, you do this thing, sometimes,” she laughs nervously. “You do this thing when you rap, where you like… puncture the ends of syllables very aggressively. It’s just funny because that’s how English sounds, but like, you’re doing it in Korean, and… I don’t know. It stands out. I just like when you do it.”

“Oh.” He makes a face.

“Hey, I don’t mean—it’s unique. Because it sounds English, but it’s not?” she explains, but it feels like she’s digging herself into a deeper and deeper hole. So she continues, “Uh, I don’t know how to explain it. It probably just stands out to me because I speak English? But it’s still good. It’s really cool, actually. It’ll be good for when you audition for a label or whatever you wanna do.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I…” he trails off, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to audition or do anything like that. To be honest, I was just planning on doing something behind the scenes, you know?”

“What? Why?” she asks. 

“I don’t know,” he sighs. “I don’t think my parents really like the idea of me becoming a rapper as like, a career. I always figured I’d go to college for sound engineering and become a producer or something like that. Technically, they can still call me an engineer. They can’t get mad then, right?” It’s delivered jokingly, but Yuri can feel the underlying truth in it, sad and wistful.

It’s moments like this that make Yuri realize how easy she has it. No matter how rocky her family life has gotten, her parents had always supported her and Kyunghee’s pursuits.

“That’s shitty,” she huffs, lying her cheek against the smooth wood of the table. “What a waste. You’re one of the better rappers I’ve heard, to be honest. Not becoming a rapper would be, like, a disservice to all of South Korea.”

“Don’t say that,” he says sheepishly, but he can’t stop smiling.

“I’m telling the truth,” she says, and she is. “I mean, most of the dudes who want to drop out and become SoundCloud rappers are doomed, but you have actual talent. You could pull it off, though. You could be the chosen one.”  Namjoon laughs, ducking his head to hide his flushed cheeks.

“You’re too much,” he chuckles, shaking his head.

When he leaves to go to the bathroom, she flips her journal to the back where her epiphany list is.

Epiphany #08: Sometimes hardworking, talented people don’t get what they deserve.

What a bummer.

August 15, 2008. Hongdae Station, Seoul, South Korea.

There’s no single observation that makes it all fall into place—it hits her suddenly, like whiplash, as she’s walking home from the subway station with her brother, like all the little moments she thought nothing of before had suddenly come together to form this big amalgamation of questionable. 

Hands lingering on top of each other for an extra long second during keyboard lessons. Glances for just a bit too long when he isn't looking. The constant stream of yeses, even when it’s for something she can’t possibly fathom anyone wanting to agree to.

Of course, Donghyuk. Sure, Donghyuk. Okay, Donghyuk. Donghyuk. Always. Anything.

“Oppa, do you like Donghyuk?”

Kyunghee stumbles, tripping over the question like it’s a brick placed before his feet.

“Huh? What? Huh?” he sputters, too hurried to be casual. “Of course I do? Of course I do. Like him I mean. He’s my friend. I like him.”

“Oh… you know what I mean,” she says, refusing to push the obvious out into the open. Usually, she’d just say what’s on her mind like she always did, but being wrong about this kind of thing would be mortifying for them both. When he flushes and quiets, she knows that she’s not wrong.

“Don’t tell him,” he chokes out, voice cracking he’s going to cry. He puts a hand over his face so she can’t see, so maybe he really is. “Please don’t tell him.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” she rushes over to hug him, letting him lean down half a foot so he can drop his head to cry into her shoulder.

“I can’t just—we’re mixed kids living in Korea, Yuri, things suck for us as it is! I’m not interested in making life harder for myself!” he tells her. Everything comes out rushed, like he’s presenting a PowerPoint and he has like ten slides left to get through but only two minutes left.

“Hey, hey, hey—” she tries, but he doesn’t let her speak.

“And nothing’s gonna come out of it, anyway,” he continues. “He’s the most heterosexual man alive, his—his fucking rap name is Supreme Boi, for fuck’s sake. Like the fucking hype beast brand. And—and have you heard him speak? He sounds like the guys that called me a fag in middle school.”

“You don’t think he’s like that, do you?” she says, eyes sad and droopy as she rubs comforting circles into his back. His scoffs.

“We high-fived and he said ‘no homo’ right afterwards,” he says, like it’s an answer. 

Well. It basically is.

“Why would you like a person like that?” she asks, appalled. Her brother is a good person who deserves nice things, so she cannot fathom why he would subject himself to this kind of torture. 

“I don't know. I don’t even know how or when or why it happened. I just…” he trails off. Then sighs. “I guess you don’t know ‘til you know.” 

To be honest, Yuri has no idea what the fuck he’s trying to say.

“Sounds dumb,” is all she can offer.

“It is dumb,” her brother agrees. “And confusing and controlling for no reason. You just fall into it, I guess. And you barely ever get anything in return for it.”

Yuri’s nose wrinkles at the senselessness of it all, but she supposes it’s something she’d have to learn eventually. When they get home that night, she takes note of it in her journal.

Epiphany #09: Love is dumb. Cost outweighs benefit. Do not attempt.

September 15, 2008. Kim Household, Seoul, South Korea.

Yuri and Namjoon tutor each other on Saturdays.

However, today is Chuseok, so the club and the Starbucks and the PC bang and all their usual hangout spots are all closed. Meanwhile, Yuri’s dad is home and he invited all his siblings over for the holiday, including Aunt Skin Lightening Cream from Busan. None of them are even from Seoul, so she’s not even sure why they’re visiting when you’re supposed to visit your hometown on Chuseok. 

Fuck Busan, her dad says.

Understandably, she doesn’t want any of her friends coming over to the house, especially when she knows her dad is going to use it as an excuse to get even drunker than usual. Namjoon’s place it is, then.

Yuri’s never been to his house. She’s never really gone over to a friend’s house before period, so when she tells her mom about it, she’s… overenthusiastic, to say the least. Yuri spends a good half-hour reminding her mom that, no, she does not have a boyfriend and she is not going over to his house for Chuseok. They are just friends. Regardless, her mom does her up pretty for the occasion, fitting her into a baby blue hanbok and doing her hair and makeup all pretty.

A suited businessman on the subway even tells her that she looks pretty. She thanks him, and begins to wonder if she should maybe wear makeup more often. For once, she does feel pretty, just a little bit out of her element. But not out of place, with so many of the passengers in similar for attire for Chuseok. The feeling only intensifies when she steps off the subway and catches sight of Namjoon, who they agreed would wait there for her so he could walk her to his house, since she got lost easily. He’s in hanbok, too, but that doesn’t stop his eyes from widening when he sees her.

“What?” she says.

“Nothing,” he replies. “You look pretty.”

“Oh. Um, thank you.” She takes his arm as they walk back to his place. It feels natural at this point.

“Is everyone fine with me coming over on Chuseok?” she asks nervously. “Don’t you have anything planned? Am I intruding? Oh God, Namjoon, what if your mom doesn’t like me?” 

“You’re overthinking this. I don’t see why they’d be mad when we’re just studying together,” he laughs. “Seriously, it’s not like we’re dating or anything.” For some reason, the statement makes her heart beat a little faster.

“R-Right.”

When they get to his house, his parents welcome Yuri with open arms. They tease Namjoon profusely about her, to which they both have to repeatedly remind them that they are study buddies and are most definitely not dating. Yuri feels like she wouldn’t mind dating Namjoon, though.

No clue where that thought came from. She files that one away to deal with later, but it doesn’t stop her quickened heartbeat from kicking it into fucking overdrive. It only worsens when he invites her upstairs to his room, and she can practically feel her legs wobbling as she goes up the steps.

It’s so very Namjoon in a way she can’t describe. Little Kaws figures line his desk, textbooks lay scattered on the floor, and a blue-hooded Ryan plushie lies tucked in his bed like it’s a living person. It’s an instant reminder of how soft he is, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. She grabs the stuffed toy coos at it lovingly.

“That’s uh—that’s my sister’s,” he says. She ignores the obvious lie.

“Baby,” she says lovingly to the toy, squeezing its tummy. “Hey Namjoon, can I lay in your bed?”

“Uh.” Namjoon coughs awkwardly, turning away with flushed cheeks. “Do whatever you want.”

She flops down onto it rather unceremoniously, turning over onto her stomach with little care as to whether or not she smudges her makeup or wrinkles her hanbok.

“Smells like you,” she says without thinking.

“What?” he laughs, swiveling around in his desk chair to grin at her, a teasing smile on his face. With her having just said that, his embarrassment over a plushie pales in comparison. Now she’s the one scrambling for an excuse. She sucks at those, so she just powers on and tells the truth.

“The other guys use like, obnoxious amounts of cologne and Axe body spray,” she explains. Embarrassedly burrowing her face into the sheets, she says, “You just smell like boy.” He chuckles.

“I am just a boy.”

She lifts her face from the sheets to look up at him, hands folded nervously in his lap. In the big desk chair, he looks impossibly small compared to the tree of a man she knows him to be. Hip hop albums and posters line the shelves and the wall behind his desk, and it makes him look an awful lot like a dreamer.

Maybe Kim Namjoon and Lim Yuri are the same, she thinks. Two kids with dreams bigger than they will ever be.

October 25, 2008. Hongdae Station, Seoul, South Korea.

She’s quiet today, Namjoon thinks.

It’s not like she’s being icy or anything. If anything, she’s being really objective and professional about everything—no teasing, no joking. It’s so bad she says she doesn’t want to meet at the PC bang because it’s too loud, and she doesn’t want to meet at her house because it’s loud there, too. He doesn’t get what she’s implying with the latter statement, but thinks it better not to pry.

Decidedly, they’re meeting at the same Starbucks they reunited in that week after she helped him find his glasses in that club in Hongdae. Somehow, it makes the distance between them feel impossibly wider. Maybe if things were this way when they first met, he wouldn’t mind, but it’s all so extremely un-Yuri-like that it makes his skin crawl.

Now that he thinks about it, she didn’t respond to his texts last night, either. Usually, she’d leap the opportunity to talk about her school life or the obnoxious musical theater kids, and he’d give her advice on how to deal with it like a good oppa. He doesn’t really mind, though. It makes him feel like he’s taking care of her. Makes him feel needed.

Which is probably why seeing her like this sucks so much. She’s obviously upset, but she won’t even talk to him about it, and she tells him everything that doesn’t involve the forbidden topic of her home life. Even that she’s let up on lately, letting little inklings of it spill out here and there. Her dad drinks a lot. Her mother’s a bit protective. Her little brother is her baby, despite the demonic energy he exudes. Basic things.

He feels like he should ask about it, but also struggles with the possibility that he might be prying into something she’s not comfortable talking about. He spends so much time wrestling with these thoughts that he ends up saying nothing the whole time, all the way up until closing and the barista kicks them out. Yuri’s working especially hard today, he notices, like she’s trying to distract herself from something. Uneasily, he continues to wonder what it is.

His discomfort only grows as he walks her down to the subway station and she still has nothing to say. On the days she veered into the weirdest, most off-topic territory, he reached over the table to flick her forehead and tell her to focus on the music. But even then, she’d find a way to squeeze a couple of personal anecdotes into the conversation, and then elaborate on the walk to the subway since they really didn’t need to talk about music stuff anymore.

Sometimes, it’d be the other way around, and he’d vent about his life problems on the walk back while she listened. But today, whatever problems he can scrounge around for in his mind feel miniscule compared to whatever she’s going through, if her sudden change of character is any indication. She even refused his regular offer of an extra canned coffee for the road.

She doesn’t look particularly upset, though? Just neutral. It’s definitely an unwelcome change of pace from her usual free-spirited smiliness, but she doesn’t seem to be doing too badly, so he just keeps his mouth shut. 

At least until halfway through their walk, when she trips over nothing and tumbles to the ground.

It’s not a particularly terrible fall, and she pushes herself back up onto her hands and knees without trouble. But then she just. Stays like that. Doesn’t get up off the ground. Gently, he taps her shoulder.

“Hey, c’mon. It’s dirty down there,” he chides softly, like he’s talking to a little kid. She doesn’t budge, so he places a comforting hand on the small of her back. “Are you—are you okay?”

It’s crazy how quickly those three words alone can break the proverbial dam, because suddenly she’s crying. No wailing or sobbing, just quiet tears with the occasional hiccup, which really is all the more heartbreaking.

“No,” she whimpers through her tears. “I’m not. I’m not okay.”

“Hey, hey,” he says softly, pulling her up off the ground and holding her tight against his chest. She’s pliant like a ragdoll, like she’ll fall over if he lets go, so he squeezes her tighter. Her arms make their way around his waist, resting just above his hips. 

The weight of the world comes tumbling out her lips, and he just holds her and listens. 

Everything makes her older brother mad these days. Her little brother, Daniel, the scary one, cries a lot. Her mom cries a lot. Her dad drinks a lot. Drinks too much. Her parents are divorcing and her mom is moving back to the Philippines without them.

It’s just so much, she tells him. It’s so much, Namjoon. She apologizes over and over, because I didn’t mean to break down, not like this, not in front of you. Not in front of anyone. 

He frowns as he comes to the realization that she never talks about her problems or her feelings or insecurities, but he spills his to her and she coaxes his out of him all the time. He understands not wanting to share this with everyone, since it’s technically Kyunghee’s personal business, too. He’s glad that she’s able to confide in him like this. It just sucks that it took a breakdown for her to do so.

“I’m sorry,” she says, over and over and over. “I didn’t mean to dump all this on you. You have enough to deal with, you know?”

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” he says, burying his nose into her hair. “Just because my life sucks doesn’t mean yours can’t, either. Just don’t think about me and my shit, okay? There’s nothing wrong with talking about yourself for once.”

“That’s not—I can’t just—I can’t just ignore you. It’s impossible to ignore you,” she sniffles into his chest. Squeezes him tighter. “You’re my friend, you know? I care about you.” 

Namjoon breathes out a shaky sigh at that, goosebumps rising on his skin. His heart swells at her words, despite the circumstances, and all he can do is wish there was more he could do for her. There’s nothing to do but squeeze her tighter.

It’s a while until she pulls away to wipe her tears. He reaches down and smooths out her hair.

“I’m sorry for crying.”

“Don’t be.”

“Thanks, then.”

“Mm-hm.”

The rest of the walk to the station is peaceful and familiar. She picks the conversation back up, opting to ignore her breakdown and talking about literally anything else, instead. She talks about how her little brother has his first crush and how her older brother wants to be drum major next year and how the weird musical theater kids are, unsurprisingly, still off the shits. All the while, she grasps his hand in hers, fingers interlocked. She gives his hand the occasional squeeze, and he squeezes back without fail.

They part once they’re across the street from the station, subway and he finds himself incredibly endeared by the way she doesn’t want to seem to let go. 

“Goodnight, Yuri,” he says, reluctantly pulling his hand from hers.

“Goodnight, Namjoon-oppa,” she sighs, letting her fingertips linger over his for a minute He watches as she turns to leave, but suddenly something hits him.

“Hey, one more thing,” he calls out to her, and tries not to laugh at how fast her head whips around at the sound of his voice.

“Yeah?” she calls back.

“It’s, uh,” he says, “It’s impossible to ignore you, too.” 

It’s just a simple repeat of her own words, but he hopes she knows that he means them, because he wants them to make her feel the way he did when she said them—needed. Important. A little bit fluttery.

Her face crumples then, so sudden that he almost regrets saying it. But then she’s practically hurtling towards him, smacking against his chest with a force that quite literally knocks the wind out of him. She’s crying again, and this time it is the loud sobbing kind. He shushes her softly. Presses a kiss onto the top of her head. He rarely initiates affection, but in the moment it just feels right. 

They hold each other like that for who knows how long. He takes hold of her hand as she calms down, the two staring down at their interlocked fingers all the while.

She misses the subway in her reverie.

“Just say goodnight and go next time,” she jokes, laughing tearily into his chest. “Stupid Namjoon, making me late. Making me cry.” There’s no threat to it, though, because she squeezes him tighter, nuzzles her face deeper into his scent, practically burrowing into him.

“I’m sorry,” he laughs softly.

They spend another thirty minutes waiting for the next subway to come in, two kids holding each other under the Seoul streetlights.

April 11, 2009. Kim Household, Ilsan, South Korea.

Yuri sprints to Namjoon’s house from the subway station at a speed unimaginable.

When Namjoon opens up the door, she’s panting and sweaty. He opens his mouth to question her about it, but before he can say a word, she’s shoving a piece of paper in his hands.

“The final match,” she recites the flyer word for word. Despite how out of breath she is, she still manages to smile brightly and sound excited. “Big Deal Show. August 23. Be there or be square.”

“The final match,” he repeats. His eyes bore holes into the paper even as he walks inside, Yuri following closely behind him. 

“You should do it, Namjoon,” she says. “Everyone’s waiting on you. You’re it, Namjoon.”

“Don’t say that,” he says, shaking his head.

“I’m serious,” she huffs. “They gave it to Kyunghee to give to me to give to you. Donghyuk didn’t get one. They want you.”

Namjoon looks up from the flyer to see her face, bright and wide-eyed and hopeful. He wonders where all those stars in her eyes came from. They can’t possibly be for him.

“Okay,” he says, grinning like a fool.

“Okay,” she says back.

“But there’s one more thing I should deal with before I go into this competition,” he admits. “I’ve been thinking of changing my stage name.” He’s been thinking about it for a while, really, even reserving the username on a throwaway account so nobody takes it, but he still brings it up to gauge her reaction just in case it really isn’t a good idea. Yuri’s always had a good feel for things.

“Aw, I like Runch Randa,” she says with a pout, but continues, “I guess I’m open to change. What are you planning on changing it to?”

“I was just thinking about shortening it to Randa. No big deal,” he says, throwing in that pun for good measure. He’s trying to be nonchalant about it, throwing a shrug in there and all that. But then she does That Thing where she folds her arms over her chest and looks up at him with those big ol’ doe eyes.

“Is this because Fetion called you ‘lunch boy’ in that diss track?”

“What? No. What? No,” he says twice. And forcefully. It’s laughable, really, and he commends Yuri for not letting even a chuckle out because he knows he’d lose it.

“Oh, Namjoon,” she sighs sweetly, and the way she says his name makes it sound like it could belong to anybody but him. It makes his heart fall into his ass. “Don’t look too much into what other people say about you. Rappers like to diss just because, you know? That’s just hip-hop culture.”

“It’s not because of that,” he says, and she frowns like she thinks he’s lying, which is only half-true. “Really. I just wanna go for a more mature sound, you know? Randa just sounds more respectable than Runch Randa, that’s all.”

“Nothing to do with Fetion?”

“Nope.” He even pops the ‘P’ for emphasis. Maybe he’s trying a little hard.

“I don’t know if I believe you, but I won’t press it,” she says. As expected, she sees right through him, but he counts the outcome as a win.

“Good,” he says. “I just wanted your opinion on it.” She gasps dramatically.

“Wanted the opinion of little ol’ me?”

“Of course,” he says, “You’re important to me.” He says it like it’s nothing, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Epiphany #10: Knowing you’re important to someone feels really, really nice.

August 23, 2009. Rolling Hall, Seoul, South Korea.

It’s a really big day for Kim Namjoon.

At the very least, it’s a big enough day that he’s arrived to the venue two hours early, just to be safe. He leans against the wall as he scrolls and scrolls and scrolls again over the lyrics he has written in the notes of his phone.

There’s a sense of finality to it. Logically, he tries to convince himself that isn’t true, but it’s already taken him this long to convince his mom that his interest in rap was more than a waste of time. He just needs this one shot, this one thing, to make her believe in him. That’s all he wants. All he needs. In the meantime, Yuri’s there to support and believe in him. His own cute little personal cheerleader.

Yuri just oozes cuteness, he thinks. If you asked the honest Namjoon, he’d tell you that he just wants to pick her up and put her in his pocket to take home. But the Namjoon in the real world is not only a teenage boy, but an aspiring rapper with a reputation to maintain. Masculinity is a prison. That doesn’t stop him from letting her hold his hand as she helps him practice his lyrics, all the way up until he goes on stage to perform. She even kisses his knuckles for good luck, like they’re in a fairytale. It twists his heart in a way that only pushes him to succeed. He has to do well. He has to win--to prove it to his family, to have something to celebrate with his friends, to make sure that all of Yuri’s producing and support hasn’t gone to waste with him.

But he fucks up his only chance.

He forgets a bunch of the lyrics he’d planned out and ends up having to pull some lyrical miracle spiritual individual shit out of his ass. After it’s all over, his heart sinks at the way that Yuri lights up when she sees him, even after all the performers and judges and audience members have dispersed. She looks at him like he didn’t just completely fuck up, like he didn’t just lose and give one of the most embarrassing performances in his life. Before he knows it, he’s crying.

His hands fly over his eyes in the hopes that she doesn’t see. He feels fucking pathetic.

“Hey, hey, hey!” she says, her soft voice panicked. Cautiously, her hands take hold of his wrists and, for fear of hurting her with his resistance, he goes limp and lets himself be handled. When she places her cool, tiny hands over his eyes, he can’t help but to breathe a sigh of relief. Though he can’t see her, he can feel her dropping her head into the crook of his neck, breath tickling his ear with gentle shushes.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she says softly. “I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I messed up,” he said.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Namjoon,” she sighs. “You did great.”

“I messed up,” he repeats. “I was the worst one there.”

“Don’t say that,” she chides, moving her hands from over his eyes to thread through his hair. “Are you deaf? Just because you didn’t win out of all these people doesn’t mean you did badly at all. There was only one ranking, you know? One of the judges asked for your contact info, right?”

“Just one. Sleepy.”

“I love Sleepy. That has to count for something, right?”

“He probably just felt bad.”

“Oh, Namjoon.” 

She squeezes him as tight as she can. What else can she do? Meanwhile, he reaches out, feeling around since he can’t exactly see, until his hand finds purchase on the back of her neck. Oh God, she’s so small. 

He can faintly feel the ridges of her spine as hand slides lower to find its place on the small of her back. He could easily squish her if he tried, so he feels a tingly sort of pleasure at the trust she’s given him as she settles deeper into his embrace. God, he feels so bad. He hates that she’s almost always the one comforting him and picking up the pieces when all he wants to do is protect her from everything ever. If he weren’t so worried about hurting her, he’d squeeze her tight and probably never let go.

Yuri squeezes back just as tightly. She doesn’t understand why he thinks he messed up so bad. In her eyes, he did everything perfectly. Sleepy wouldn’t have asked for his contact information if he wasn’t any good, right? How could he have been anything but? Didn’t he hear himself?

She wishes he could just see himself the way she sees him.

To make matters worse, he seems to have lost his student ID somewhere at some point throughout the day. Yuri spends a good half hour helping him look for it in the dim lights of the club, and it fills her with a little sense of nostalgia for the night they first met. Unfortunately, they find nothing this time around. Seeing as he needs it to get on the subway, he calls his mom to pick him up instead. It’s just the cherry on top for how pathetic he’s feeling today.

Namjoon dries his tears and regains his composure so that his mom doesn’t ask about it when she shows up. When she arrives, she thanks Yuri for looking after her son and offers her a ride home, not taking no for an answer even as Yuri assures her that it’s okay and she doesn’t want to intrude. With the emotional draining he’s had today, she’d rather Namjoon get home as fast as possible, but she’s terrible at coming up with lies and excuses.

“Her dad is on his way to pick her up,” he lies for her, knowing damn well she’s taking the subway. His mother accepts this, thanking her again before waving her off. Once she’s out of eyeshot, she mouths a thank you to Namjoon. He forces a half-smile in reply.

Yuri plops down on one of the seats to sulk. Something stops her from leaving for the subway right away, and in retrospect, she likes to believe it was fate. It was probably just laziness.

In the midst of her musing and sulking, she notices a very familiar figure—from the judge’s table no less—emerge from the bathroom. Sleepy from Untouchable, she recognizes him as. She knows because her and her brothers have Quiet Storm on loop in their house, so he’s got to have some sway in the contestants they pass on. She’d worry about making a good first impression, but she was a friend before she was a fan. If it meant risking looking like a crazy person, then so be it.

“You!” she yells from across the room.

“Ah! Me!” he yells back in surprise.

“I need to talk to you!” she yells. He gulps as the tiny girl approaches him like he’s prey, not daring to take her eyes off of him. 

Please don’t be a sasaeng, he prays.

He steels himself as she draws closer, relaxing as he takes in her measly, barely-five-foot stature. Yeah, he could handle himself if things went bad. He could punt a child. He sighs gratefully when he realizes he will have to do no such thing.

“H-Hey,” she says nervously, voice immediately going small when she’s in front of him. “You were a judge, right? For the contest?”

“Yes,” he replies, trying his damnedest not to sound intimidated by this little girl.

“I need your contact info.”

“Excuse me?”

“I—look,” she says, sounding more and more desperate by the minute. “I’m not asking for your number or anything, like—just give me your work email or something!”

“Uh—”

“My friend performed today,” she scrambles to explain. “In case some stuff happens to his work, I want you to have it. Or get your hands on it? So you have material to hear if you call back. Um, here, just take this.” She scribbles her email into her journal and rips the paper out before handing it to him. He squints his eyes at it.

“Beats by Glass,” he reads her email address.

“Yes.”

“I know you,” he says, “a lot of the trainees at TS use your beats for their audition tapes.”

“It’s ‘cause they’re free,” she explains. He looks surprised at that.

“Admirable.”

“Thank you,” she says, “I produced his stuff, too, um—yeah. Just let me send you my friend’s work.”

“Don’t you have your own music to focus on? Wouldn’t you rather promote yourself?” he asks. She shakes her head.

“He deserves this more than anyone.” Sleepy’s eyes soften at that.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

October 17, 2009. Lim Household, Seoul, South Korea.

As a surprise to even herself, Sleepy emails Yuri back. She sends him Namjoon’s music that she has saved. He emails back a thumbs up emoji. Ugh.

Unfortunately, just as Yuri had anticipated, Namjoon found himself in a bad headspace and immediately deleted all of his content off the internet in an especially powerful bout of self-loathing.

He could get a callback, she keeps reminding him, but he just won’t believe it—so he gives up before he even tries. He psychs himself out of things before he even gets a chance. His mom says that’s why he hasn’t started driving yet.

Despite this, Namjoon and Yuri still find themselves working together, even as Namjoon assures her that he is not interested in swallowing his pride and crawling back to the entertainment industry. For now, he’s just a songwriter that she’s teaching the basics of her beatmaking programs. She relents to letting him believe that, but she also takes the fact that he’s having anything to do with music at all as a glimmer of hope that he’ll return to his promising rap career.

At this very moment, Namjoon is not writing lyrics, and a good dozen pages of his notebook now half-filled with content he’s apparently dissatisfied with. For now, Yuri’s relented to letting him absentmindedly scribble on her left arm with a pen while she works her producer magic on GarageBand. She’s allowed it on the simple condition that he doesn’t draw any dicks or write any curse words on his arm because her mom might see.

“No promises.”

“Try it, bitch.”

Fortunately, he does not scribble any dicks nor fucks. It’s all just mindless doodles, like stars and swirls and hearts and that one pointy S everyone drew in elementary school. The only one she actually pays any mind to is a little crescent moon on her inner wrist.

“Aw, that suits you,” she says.

“How so?” he asks.

Yuri doesn’t know how to tell Namjoon that he reminds her of the moon, bright and calm and watchful and constant and underappreciated, without embarrassing herself. So she doesn’t.

“You’re… I don’t know,” she says. “It just does.”

“What were you gonna say?” he presses, raising a brow. As expected, he can see right through her.

“Nothing. There was no end to that sentence,” she says.

“Okay.” From his tone, it’s obvious that he doesn’t believe her, but he doesn’t press the issue any further. He was a lot better than the others at making sure not to stray into uncomfortable territory.

They usually sit together in comfortable silence, which she’s noticed has since become a staple of their relationship. She doesn’t mind, though. There are no expectations between them. It’s a nice change of pace from the constant expectations present in both their day-to-day lives. His silence today, though, seems a little tense. She doesn’t know how she can tell, but she can feel it. Maybe their hearts are connected, she thinks.

“Are you okay?” she asks, hoping she’s not wrong.

“I don’t know,” he admits with a sigh. “I don’t really like anything I’ve written at all. I feel like I’ve reached my limit, you know? Maybe I’m just out of good ideas. Maybe I never had any in the first place. Maybe I was never meant for this at all.”

She shoves at his arm, pouting up at him once she’s fully distracted him from his absentminded scribbling. There’s a wobbly line running down the side of her arm now, but she can’t bring herself to care very much.

“What?” he asks, annoyed.

“C’mon, Namjoon,” she huffs, ignoring the way he scoffs and rolls his eyes at her. “You’re really gonna let one bump in the road throw you off momentum for good?”

“That ‘one bump in the road’ was my last shot, Yuri,” he says hopelessly. “It’s over for me.”

“But you’re still trying,” she says. “I like to believe that means something. C’mon, let’s see what you’ve got.” She reaches over him to grab his notebook, flipping it open to a random set of lyrics. They’re close enough now to where Namjoon barely bats an eye at this—he is, both literally and figuratively, an open book to her.

Smoothing it out, she reads, my heart is like a detective who is the criminal’s son. Even as I know who the criminal is, I can’t catch him. She blinks a couple of times in surprise. Reads it again.

“You wrote this?”

“Yeah,” he admits sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Look, that one is really old. It’s from before we even met, I think. I know it’s kinda corny—”

“It’s good,” she cuts him off.

“Yeah?” he says, surprised. She just nods in response, even though there’s so much more that she wants to say.

She wants to tell him that everything he says leaves her in awe. That he’s the smartest boy she’s ever met. When she writes her lyrics, it’s always about something she’s seen or done or felt—but the lyrics he comes up with are written like stories, like there’s an entire universe in his mind. His mind is filled to the brim with different worlds and swirling galaxies, and hers does nothing but walk along a path already laid down by the cosmos.

But she doesn’t.

“It’s good,” she repeats instead.

She doesn’t know why it’s so hard to say what she feels. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t even know how to word how she feels.

Especially with Namjoon, as of late.

Epiphany #12: Talking about feelings with Namjoon is hard now. Like getting over a great big hill.

March 07, 2010. Starbucks, Ilsan, South Korea.

Against all odds, Namjoon gets a callback. 

It comes directly from a man known as Hitman Bang, the CEO of Big Hit Entertainment—according to Namjoon, he’s a very successful songwriter (that’s where the Hitman part is from… how cheesy) who’s worked with big wigs like JYP before. Yuri hasn’t heard of the guy or his company. Probably some poor, weird indie label, from the looks of it. She’s not exactly sure how credible they are, but when the man sings Namjoon’s praises and offers him a contract, she pushes her doubts aside.

As soon as the phone call ends, Namjoon envelopes Yuri in a hug, warm and all-encompassing and very, very Namjoon-like. He feels like he’s on top of the world, like all the dreams he felt he’d thrown away as only dreams were tumbling back into the realm of possibility. It’s like all his wishes are coming true—in everything, there’s only one problem.

Namjoon has yet to tell his mom that he’s been rapping.

Of course she knows that he does it, but it’s just a little hobby in her eyes. She still believes the lie—well, half-truth, he prefers to say—that he’s going to PC bangs all the time, and not rap clubs in Hongdae. She’s found a couple of his lyrics tucked into the pages of his textbooks, but he bullshits excuses about how they’re extra credit poetry for his literature class. He’s been lying about it for years now, but now that he’s going to get signed for rapping, now’s as good a time as any.

He’s nervous. It’s one thing to confess that you’ve been lying for three years, but it’s another to beg your mom to sign a contract that’ll help you pursue your rap dream immediately afterwards.

Yuri was just there for emotional support. They’re walking to his house back from Starbucks because really, he could only gather the courage to do this when hyped up on overpriced espresso. They walk back with Yuri’s hand linked in his, and despite him never being the best with physical affection, it feels natural, supportive. Loving, even.

“You got this,” she says, squeezing his hand in hers.

“I got this,” he repeats, even if he sounds like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s saying.

“Just be honest about how you feel and everything’s gonna be fine,” she assures him. He doesn’t quite believe her (feeling things out was never his forte) but he supposes he’ll just have to take her advice on this one. He wishes she could just be there next to him, but having her randomly sat into their family discussion would just be weird. Instead, the plan is for her to sit in that same Starbucks they were just at until she gets the text that he is 100% okay.

“If it goes really bad, I am four blocks away!” she reminds him, putting up four fingers for emphasis. “Hopefully your dad won’t threaten to kill you, but you know. Just in case.” Namjoon grimaces, but nods. He wonders what her home life must be like for her to make comments like that.

“Okay,” he says.

Yuri’s heart falls into her ass as she squeezes Namjoon’s hands one last time before letting him go back into his house. Once the door shuts behind him, she practically sprints back to Starbucks, not wanting to stay close and accidentally hear yelling or some other part of the argument. She heard enough of that kinda stuff at home.

She can barely sit still at Starbucks, fidgeting anxiously as she thinks about what her friend must be going through right now. She brought her laptop and her notebook in her messenger bag so she could at least take advantage of the free Wi-Fi to work on stuff, but her mind always strays back to him. She periodically checks on her phone for any new notifications (her group chat with the boys has been long since muted) and heaves her shoulders in disappointment every time there is none. It’s been nearly four hours and he has yet to text her anything. 

Suddenly, the blip of a text notification on her phone catches her attention.

[18:27] Namjoon: look outside

Yuri whips around to see Namjoon grinning behind the glass walls of the building. Carelessly shoving all her stuff back in her bag, she practically flies through the door to greet him.

She practically crashes against his chest, but it’s okay because he picks her up and spins her around like he’s just returned from war. He’s so bright and giggly and infectious that Yuri finds herself laughing, too. She almost feels like it’s a little romantic, but quickly kicks that thought away, as always.

“They said yes,” he says once he sets her down, like he’s still surprised, even now. “My parents said yes. They’re gonna sign the contract with me. I’m gonna be a rapper, Yuri.”

“Oh my God.” She’s in disbelief too, because that’d be tough news for any parent to handle. But Namjoon is the most articulate person she knows. If anyone could break that kind of news, it would be him. “How’d you win ‘em over? What’d you say?” Namjoon laughs nervously.

“It’s kind of—it’s so lame,” he says, embarrassed, but Yuri nods for him to go on. “My grades are 5,000th place in the country, right?”

“Nerd.”

“Shut up. Anyways,” he continues, “The part I think I really got them with was—basically, I asked my mom whether she wanted to have a son who was a first-place rapper or a 5,000th-place student.”

Yuri bursts into laughter.

“Cheesy!” she yells. “Namjoon, that’s so—that’s so cringey.”

“It worked, didn’t it?!” he defends himself.

“It was gonna work no matter what,” she laughs. He shakes his head.

“I think I just got lucky,” he says. She doesn’t believe it.

Kim Namjoon could take over the world, if he wanted to.

March 06, 2010. Ilsan Lake Park, Ilsan, South Korea.

It’s a Saturday night, and Namjoon and Yuri hold hands as they walk through Ilsan Lake Park.

They do this a lot, now, and it makes her feel a little tingly. It’s just walking and talking, she knows, but it’s different. Whenever they’d go over to each other’s houses to study or work on music together, she’d psych herself out of any sense of excitement with the reminder that, as close as they may seem, they were still both getting things out of it. But this isn’t like that.

Neither of them are obligated to spend any time with each other outside of helping one another, but they do anyway. Namjoon ends up talking most of the time, but it’s okay. She’s no good with words anyway, and she likes his voice and the things that he has to say. Sometimes the skip rocks, even though neither of them are any good at it, before giggling at their failures.

Are these dates? she sometimes wonders. They feel an awful lot like dates. She doesn’t know how that makes her feel, but she feels it in the pit of her stomach. Yuri has always been upfront about the things she wants, but with Namjoon, she isn’t quite sure what she wants. She thinks she just wants to be around him.

“I’ve been discussing contract stuff with Hitman Bang,” he says casually, “and he’s thinking about changing it from an underground rap-based group to an idol boy group.”

Yuri freezes in her tracks beneath the streetlights.

“What?” she asks, making a face. “Seriously? You can’t be serious. You’re joking, right?”

“Why the hell did you say it like that?” he bristles. “Jesus. You’d think I told you I was planning on dropping out of school and becoming a stripper.”

“I’m just trying to warn you. Idol life is hard,” she says. “Netizens will have a field day with you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I—fuck, I didn’t mean it like that, okay?” she huffs. “It’s just that—you saw how people treated Nacseo when he signed to an entertainment label. I like idol music, too, but not everyone around us is open to that kinda change, you know? They’re gonna eat you alive, Namjoon,”

“I don’t care about their opinions,” he says, and she scoffs.

“You’ve never not cared about what people think of you,” she shoots back, her mind jumping to every time he’s thrown away a good set of song lyrics because he thought it’d make him sound lame or corny. Or God forbid, soft. “Why would you want to leave? Everyone in the underground scene already loves you. They’re gonna call you a traitor, just like they did to Nacseo.”

“Do you think I’m a traitor, Yuri?” he asks. When she responds with a beat of silence, he looks more betrayed than she could ever feel. “Yuri.”

“Why would you want to leave?” she repeats. “Look, I’m just saying—why would the company suddenly switch gears like that? Don’t you think that’s suspicious? What if they’re scamming you into debt? What if they’re trying to force you into a slave contract or something?!”

“God, why are you suddenly so against this? You sound like my parents right now!” he yells. “You know, of all people, I would’ve thought you’d be the one to get it.”

“What—of course I get it!” she huffs. “I handed you the flyer, I watched you perform, I waited for you when you told your family about it! There’s just no good reason to leave the underground scene to become an idol. The risks are just too much, Namjoon!”

“Well, I—no, you know what? I don’t need to justify myself to you!” he yells, despite proceeding to do just that. “I’m not just gonna stay in the underground because—because you want me to!”

“I just—why would you want to be an idol anyway?” she shoots back, scrambling for some bullshit reason that doesn’t sound as desperate as please don’t leave me. “They’re gonna control what you eat and who you see and everything! Everything’s gonna be different, Namjoon! We won’t be able to go to DGBD and we won’t be able to go out together like this anymore because they’ll throw you into a scandal over some stupid rumors and they’ll never let me see you again.”

“Wait, so—so this isn’t about me, right?” he says. He scoffs, shaking his head, “Yeah, this isn’t about me at all! This has nothing to do with what you think is going to affect me and everything to do with what’s going to affect you! This is all about you!”

“Shut up!” she yells back. “It’s not like that!”

“Really? Because I’m not so sure,” he says, and immediately regrets it when his doubt makes her look at him like she’s been struck. But he just keeps going. He can’t stop himself, no matter how much his conscience screams at him to. “If you were actually thinking about me, you’d be listening to what I have to say, you’d be taking everything that’s happened up until now into account—but you’re not! Why is that? Thinking with your gut instead of your brain again?”

“You’re—you’re talking too fast! Slow down!” she’s crying now, but it doesn’t register for either of them. She puts her hands over her ears, like she’s a little kid listening to her parents fight again. “Just shut up for one second, okay?! Shut up! Shut up! You know I’m no good with words!”

“I thought you were more mature than this!” he yells. “Fuck, you’re just—you really are just a little kid, you know? Seriously, you want me to throw away an opportunity for my family to let me do what I actually wanna do? So I can stay with you and the rest of the losers—”

They both freeze, mouths open in shock as the weight of his words set in.

“Wait, I—I didn’t mean that, I—” he’s stuttering, trying to find the words to fix things, even though he knows in his heart that he can’t take it back. “You’re—you’re not a loser—” He takes a step toward her, arms outstretched with the promise of comfort. 

But she refuses it, taking a step back into the streetlight. She looks so small, hands curled into her chest, so far away from him.

The world hits him all at once. They’re just two teenagers yelling in the Ilsan streets at night. She bows her head down, but he can still see the tears in her eyes, glistening under the street lamps.

“You should go home,” she says softly.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“I’ll walk with you.” 

“Okay.” 

It’s an awkward walk back, to say the least. He’s still mad, and he knows she’s still mad, so he makes no move to touch her as she walks next to him. She doesn’t reach out to grasp his hand like she always does, instead awkwardly linking her pinkies together, like she doesn’t know where her hands belong if not in his.

“We’re here,” she says, stopping at the sidewalk across the street from his house—like she’s not welcome, like she wasn’t lying on his bedroom floor just weeks ago. Weird how fast things can change.

“Hey,” he says, feeling a sense of relief when she looks up at him instead of ignoring him. He almost doesn’t want to break eye contact, like if he does he’ll never have another chance. Still, he reaches into his bag, fishing through the energy drinks and coffee cans at the bottom he’d bought earlier that day, originally purchased with the express purpose of keeping himself awake during training. But this is ok, too. He settles on giving her a Baba Vanilla Delight, because he knows she likes sweet things.

“Drink this,” he says as he hands it to her. “So you don’t fall asleep on the subway. There are weirdos on the train, you know. If any weird old guys try talking to you, call your brother, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, popping open the metal tab and drinking. After a couple of gulps, there’s silence, before Yuri leans forward and gently presses her head against his chest. Reflexively, he places a hand atop her head. No patting or stroking. Just a gentle, awkward, weight.

“You should go inside,” she says.

“Yeah,” he agrees, but neither of them make the move to part. He doesn’t know why. He’s still mad at her and she’s still mad at him. But it just feels right. When it happens, she’s the one to initiate it, breaking away from his touch to sip at the coffee in her hands again.

“Bye,” she says.

“Bye,” he says back, even though his gut tells him not to. 

There’s a sense of finality to it, somehow.

Namjoon turns around sharply so he doesn’t have to think about it, but makes the mistake of looking over his shoulder one last time. She has yet to budge, sipping at her coffee and watching to make sure he gets into his house safely, even though she’s still upset. 

I care, I care, her gaze says. He thinks he’ll know that forever.

But he doesn’t know that she starts crying as soon as he steps inside his house, or that she cries the whole way home, or that when she’s on the subway, she takes her journal out of her messenger bag and plops it in her lap to scribble a pathetic, self-aware message onto her epiphany list.

Epiphany #13: Lim Yuri will never stop caring about Kim Namjoon. Never ever ever. Not in a million years.

What a coincidence that it lands on such an unlucky number.

April 07, 2010. Big Hit Entertainment Building, Seoul, South Korea.

Lim Yuri makes her way to the Big Hit Entertainment building with nothing but a coffee in her hand and conviction in her heart. She’s nervous for a multitude of reasons.

For one, she’s about to interrogate an old music mogul when she’s a fifteen year-old girl that barely scrapes five foot nothing. No matter what bullshit her father has put the family through, she still stands firm with his advice that old men in the music industry are bad news. 

Secondly, she’s not supposed to be here. Nobody knows she took the subway here—she told her brother she was taking the subway to a friend’s house and really, it’s his fault for believing her lie. He should know damn well that she doesn’t have friends.

Thirdly, the coffee enhances every nervous feeling beating inside of her body. She feels like her heart is going to beat out of her chest. Regardless, she’s come too far to turn back now. Yuri raps her knuckles on the Big Hit building’s front door three times before ringing the doorbell.

As she waits, she can’t help but notice that the building is pretty small, especially for an entertainment company. Kinda shabby, if she’s being honest. Man, this place is poor poor. She wonders if they can even afford trainees.

When a staff member opens the door, she tells them she wants to talk to the CEO. He narrows his eyes suspiciously at the little girl and tells her to schedule a meeting ahead of time. When she hands him ₩20000, his eyes widen and he directs her to sit in the waiting room. Damn, really? These people were cheap.

Minutes later, another staff member directs her to the Hitman Bang’s office upstairs. She hates to be judgmental, but this place is like. The shitters. The floors are dirty and the paint is peeling off the walls and the halls are a tight squeeze through. When she makes it up to his office, she’s not surprised to see how small it is. She sits herself down onto the seat in front of him and opens her mouth to speak, but he quickly cuts her off.

“Here, sign in first,” he says. She expects him to direct her to a computer or a card reader or something, but he hands her a clipboard with a stack of binder paper on it instead. The sight makes her wrinkle her nose, but she signs it anyway.

Whew, this is trashy.

“Lim Yuri,” he reads her name off the clipboard, “What brings you here today?”

“I, uh,” she pauses to shrug. “Just wanted to talk, I guess.”

“About?” he asks, quirking a brow.

“Kim Namjoon,” she admits. She’s not sure why saying his name aloud makes her face so hot. “He’s, um, a trainee in your company, I think. Or is going to be. I’m not really sure, uh, we haven’t really talked recently. Gonna need a status check on that one.”

“He’s coming in to sign his contract with his parents next week. It took a while, but he wore ‘em down,” he jokes, shaking a fist in victory. “So not yet, but soon.”

“This sounds like the kind of information that a company shouldn’t be sharing so freely. Haven’t you heard of contract confidentiality?” she huffs. “I came here to protect Namjoon, and you already seem like you’re not doing a very good job.” Old man Bang’s eyebrows shoot towards his hairline in surprise, obviously not expecting the little girl in front of him to be so serious about all this.

“Well, uh, he hasn’t signed any contract with us yet,” he justifies himself. “So I haven’t technically said anything confidential.”

“Nice save.”

“Thanks,” he says, before awkwardly clearing his throat. Regaining composure, he continues, “I can assure you, we’re doing our best to protect our artists, and will do the same for him once he’s with us. What do you think you need to protect your friend from?”

“I don’t know, weird industry stuff that he doesn’t know about!” she says, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. “Like a slave contract or eternal debt or some weird shitty concept that he doesn’t wanna do, okay? I don’t know!”

“Relax,” he says. She huffs and folds her hands back into her lap. “Your friend is in good hands. It’s easy to take advantage of young trainees, but I can assure you that this is not the case here. We’re forming this next group around him. Because of him. We respect his creative decisions and will be giving him near-full reigns on whatever projects he wants to work on. I’ve heard him rap before, so Lord knows he can.”

“Which one?” she asks after a beat of silence. She can’t fight the hint of a smile off her face, despite the circumstances.

“Huh?”

“What song did you hear him rap?” she asks curiously. “Was it the one about the detective? I like that one. That one’s my favorite.” He blinks a couple of times in surprise.

“Yes, I heard that one,” he says, nodding. “He’s very talented. Incredibly introspective for your age.” 

“I know,” she says, almost boastfully. “Everyone knows except him.”

“Do they now?”

“Yeah. I even asked Sleepy,” she continues bragging. “You know, from Untouchable? ‘Tell Me Why’? Yeah, him, and he agreed, too. I just know he’s destined for greatness, and—”

“You’re right,” he says. “When I first heard his audition reel, I thought, ‘this person deserves to be an idol.’ I didn’t even have to see him to know that.” Yuri lets herself smile at that.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

“And I do know Sleepy,” he adds. “In fact, he’s the one who showed me your friend’s mixtape and passed his contact information onto me.” Yuri’s eyes widen, genuinely surprised that he did that even after she harassed him at Rolling Hall. Outside the bathroom, no less.

“You know, I’m surprised that you know Sleepy,” he continues slowly. She can practically hear him thinking as he narrows his eyes at her. “Are you Glass, by any chance? The one from outside the bathroom?” 

Is that her thing now? She hates it here. His tone isn’t exactly flattering, but what’s she gonna do, lie?

“...I am she.”

“You’re that Yuri?” he asks, and she grimaces. 

“Yes.” She’s expecting him to like, shove a cross in her face or something. Instead, he just laughs.

“I heard you gave him an earful.”

“Well. Harassing old men on my friends’ behalves has recently become a hobby of mine,” she says wryly. He shakes his head, but even the old man can’t resist another laugh at that.

“That also means you made those beats, right? The ones in his audition reel?” he asks. 

“Yes, sir. Every last one,” she says truthfully.

“Interesting.” He folds his hands in front of his mouth and leans forward in his desk, and Yuri can practically see the cogs turning in his head. She can’t imagine what he’s thinking so hard about.

“Hypothetically, if we were to debut your friend in a boy group,” he begins.

“Oh God, I don’t like hypotheticals,” she interrupts. He laughs at her antics.

“It’d be a smart idea to have a female producer,” he continues. “Because if you think about it, that’d be our main audience, right? Girls around your age, give or take a few years?” She nods slowly as she thinks about the implications of what he’s saying.

“Yes,” she says after a long pause. “That would be smart.”

“And we’re already understaffed,” he admits. “It’d be a great help. I don’t know how much I’d be able to pay you—” 

“I can tell—”

“—but you’ll be working with your friend, right? Isn’t that a good idea?” He raises a brow at her, and he doesn’t need to say anything more for her to know that it’s a question and an offer all in one. 

In all honesty, it doesn’t sound that bad. Doing what she likes and working with a friend? Getting ‘near-full’ creative reigns? It sounds too good to be true, even to herself. She can’t exactly say she trusts in this, but it seems like it’s worth a shot. She heaves a sigh.

“You got a business card?” she asks. He seems to panic at that, awkwardly scrambling around his desk. Yuri nervously links her pinkies together as he spends a good five minutes opening and closing and opening his desk drawers again and again.

“Uh, you know what?” He pulls a sticky note off the top of the stack on his desk and writes his email address and phone number. Yuri has to stop herself from grimacing. The disorganization of this little company makes her cringe, but she guesses she’ll just have to take a leap of faith.

April 17, 2010. Han River, Seoul, South Korea.

Yuri links her pinkies nervously as she sits, staring down at the dosirak boxes in her lap.

She’s on a park bench by the Han River, praying to every God she can think of that Namjoon shows up. She’d texted him earlier that week asking him if they could meet there, to which he replied with a simple ‘okay’ text—a very bad sign when coming from the wordiest guy alive. But they did just have a really bad falling out, so she supposes beggars can’t be choosers.

“Hey,” she hears a familiar voice say from behind her, accompanied by a tap on the shoulder. It makes her whip around so fast she nearly smacks him with her ponytail.

“Oh, um, hey! Hey,” she says nervously. Namjoon laughs fondly, shaking his head.

“You look like you got stood up for a date,” he jokes, taking a seat next to her on the bench. She can’t help but blush as his knee bumps against hers. They sit in silence for a moment, as was usual in the Namjoon-Yuri dynamic. Despite the awkward air about them, it dawns upon her just how much she’s missed him, even just by sitting next to him like this.

“Here,” her voice cuts through the quiet as she drops one of the dosirak boxes in his lap. “I, um. I made this for you. And I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Namjoon clicks his tongue.

“Don’t be,” he says, shaking his head. “I should be the one saying sorry. I overreacted and said shitty things to you that I shouldn’t have. I’m embarrassed, really… I’m the older one, you know? I should’ve been the one to apologize first, if anything. I know you say things because you care, or because you don’t want to be lonely… and I get that. Nobody wants to be lonely. Nobody deserves to be lonely, especially a person like you who always does things for other people.”

“Namjoon-oppa.”

“Hm?”

“You have this—” she cuts herself off, voice cracking. “You have this bad habit of making me cry.”

Wordlessly, Namjoon shrugs off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders and placing a comforting hand atop her head. He coos when she leans into his touch. It makes her chuckle softly, even through the tears. She slips her arms into the sleeves, using them to wipe those tears away.

“Sorry for getting snot on your jacket,” she sniffles. He shakes his head, moving his hand down from her head to rub comforting circles into her back.

“Keep it. It looks better on you anyway,” he assures her. He drops a jab in there, too, if only to reach for a bit of normalcy. “And I just took it off, so. It’s got that boy smell you like.” He laughs when she smacks him with one of the long sleeves.

“Suuuure,” she says sarcastically. She rolls her eyes at his words, sincerely doubting that she looks good in anything in her current snotty, teary-eyed state—let alone a jacket that’s like, four sizes too big for her. But Namjoon has, embarrassingly enough, read her for filth. She will very much be keeping the jacket for as long as it has that very distinct Namjoon smell.

She leans her head on his shoulder and realizes she really, really missed him. That’s just the truth of it. She missed him and his smell and his dimples and his weird metaphors and his big wrinkly brain.

“I just want to make things clear,” she begins nervously, “If you think signing with Big Hit is the way to achieve your dreams and stuff, I want you to do that. I want you to know that I’ll be right there with you.”

“Thanks,” he says. “It’d be tough to know someone I cared about wasn’t supportive of this.” The admission makes her blush, but she shakes her head.

“No, I mean like, literally,” she admits, laughing nervously. “Um, I went to their building the other week, you know? To check it out and see if there was anything weird happening there. I, um, talked to the old man upstairs—old man Bang, not God.” He laughs at that. It melts her heart a little. “But, um, yeah. He was talking about how they’re understaffed and had heard about my producing and stuff and thought it’d be a good idea since we worked together already. We’re not discussing contract stuff for like, another two weeks? But before that happens, um, I just wanted to let you know before you sign yours. I won’t do anything that like, forces you to work with me or—”

“You don’t need my permission to do anything,” he says. “You want to still work together, right? Isn’t that why you went there?”

“Yes.” A half-truth, but she’s not gonna admit she harassed that poor old man to ensure his safety. That’d probably be a blow to his ego, and seeing as they just made up, that’s the last thing she wants.

“Then you should. We already know how the other works. It just makes sense,” he says. “And we’ll be together.” And her whole stomach does flips.

Her whole mind is going a mile a minute, then. It barely registers when he holds out his fist, and a couple awkward seconds pass before she has the brainpower to bump it back.

When he smiles at her, dimples on display and teeth poking out from between his lips, it feels like a punch to the gut. The relief she’d felt swell in her chest when she heard his voice is nothing compared to the tingling sensation she feels in her stomach right now. Suddenly, she understands what her older brother meant that night she asked about Donghyuk, and he said some bullshit about not knowing until you know.

She gets it now because she knows. It’s going to race through her mind every time she looks at him. She doesn’t need to write it down, but she knows she will when she gets home, if only to get it out. She needs an outlet for what she feels like is going to be etched into her heart forever.

Epiphany #14: Lim Yuri is stupidly, uncontrollably, undeniably in love with Kim Namjoon.

#era.glass #fic.epiphany #laruna.conn #laruna.dev #ship.yujoon #writings

[feelingsobloom]

No Matter the Rain

“I wished it was raining," he said.

Coffee Shop AU + Fluff

- When you woke up it was raining, and honestly, you were so excited you could hardly keep all of your emotions contained.

You had been waiting for a rainy day for so long that you couldn’t even remember the last rainy day you had been able to enjoy. Most of the time when it was raining all that you could do was work or go to school and you never got the time to just sit there and enjoy it, but not today.

Today it was Sunday. Today you got to enjoy your rainy day exactly where you wanted to.

You were quick to kick of your socks off, almost falling over as you tried to get your legs out of your pajama pants and into the outfit that you had been wanting to wear pretty much all week. Your most comfortable pair of pants, a baggy shirt, and a bag with everything that you would need for a perfect day.

You hesitated as you slipped on a pair of sandals, standing at the door wondering if you should just stay inside of the apartment... It had been a while since you had gone out and since you didn’t really have anyone to hang out with it might be a little lonely to go out all on your own.

But on the flip side you had been really wanting to go to a café on a rainy day. It felt like the perfect college experience, and since you didn’t have any homework today, or work to worry about then it was the perfect opportunity for you to wander out and forget your cares for a day.

You nodded once to yourself and then purposefully left the apartment.

A new small coffee shop had opened up recently not far from your apartment, and you had been absolutely dying to try it. It was one of those cozy spots, buried away in the nook of an always hustling city, with oak wood walls, and large shiny windows.

Inside you could almost always see people in large soft hoodies typing away at their computers as they sipped from a large coffee mug with a substance inside that you knew just had to be delicious.

Everyone at work had been there already. All of them going on about how good the coffee was and how nice the employees were at it had gotten you to the point in which you had started to get frustrated that you hadn’t been yet. Even all of the customers who came in everyday seemed to have something to say about the place.

So, this was your absolute dream opportunity to go there and try the place out.

You practically ran down the streets, not minding the cold water droplets on your warm skin as you raced through the puddled sidewalks, only letting yourself skid to a stop once you had made it to the door of the place.

You pushed into the coffee shop and a small bell rang. The action seeming to startle whoever was working because immediately afterwards you heard a small crash, a soft: ow, and watched as a mop of black hair popped up from behind the counter.

“Hi there welcome to-” The boy interrupted himself by banging his head on the front counter as he dipped into a bow. You felt your mouth cover your hand in surprise, and you stepped towards him, your free hand outstretched as you bowed as well.

“Oh my- Are... Are you okay?” You asked him softly. He laughed, giving you a pained expression as he turned his body back upwards.

“Uh, I’m used to it at this point,” he murmured back. He gave you a smile. “But enough about me, what can I get you on this rainy day?”

The person being the counter was very friendly, and despite the fact that he had to still be in a bit of pain while he was taking your order he didn’t let it show as he brewed you one of the prettiest caramel lattes that you had gotten in a while.

You took a seat near the counter at one of the tables by the windows, and pulled out your book, glancing out the window at the puddles that were gathering on the sidewalk.

“What are you doing?” You looked up in surprise when you realized that the barista was looking at you with a curious expression on his face. You smiled sideways at him and pulled the book you had packed for the day out of your bag.

“Reading,” you replied. “Just thought I would take advantage of the beautiful day.”

The boy- you glanced down at his name tag noting that his name was Donghyuk- laughed at your words, pressing his hands carefully on the counter in front of him.

“You think that a rainy day is a day to take advantage of?” He asked you. Most of the time when people accused you of liking a rainy day, you could note that it was somewhat judgmental. As if you should be ashamed that you preferred dark clouds and rain splattered streets. But Donghyuk didn’t sound like he was judging you. On the contrary, he just seemed generally curious by what you had to say.

“Of course. The cool breeze, the heavy atmosphere. The sounds of the rain as it splatters against the window,” you trailed off looking outside as you spoke. At the moment the rainfall was pretty soft. Only pitters against the glass panes telling you that there was in fact a rain pour at all. But you hoped that soon it would start pouring again like it had earlier. “I can’t explain it but when the rain starts falling in that thunderous roar, and all you can hear is it as it pounds against the building, you’re in... I don’t know, I just always feel so calm.”

When you turned back, you were a little surprised to find that Donghyuk was staring at you with careful eyes. He seemed embarrassed to have been caught and turned his face to look out the window, his cheeks flushing with color.

“I understand what you mean,” Donghyuk commented softly. “The rain can be... Healing.”

“You like it too?” You asked, honestly a little surprised. He nodded.

“Late night walks in the rain are the prettiest,” he replied. “Sometimes me and my friend Jinwoo will go out together when it isn’t raining too hard.”

You smiled softly.

“I wish you could star gaze on a rainy night,” you admitted. “It would make the night perfect. Just walking outside with someone, hand in hand, looking up at the sky.”

Donhyuk laughed at your words, dragging you out of your head for a moment and back to the starry-eyed boy in front of you. While you felt like you should be embarrassed for your clearly ridiculous statement, the minute that you looked at Donghyuk, the shame left your body.

It wasn’t often that you meant someone that seemed like they were genuinely interested in what you had to say. Especially not a boy and especially not a boy as cute as Donghyuk.

But the way that Donghyuk was gazing at you, his eyes wide, his lips slightly parted in a smile. You were suddenly struck with an odd feeling that you weren’t really used to. Like... He actually wanted to be talking to you.

You couldn’t help yourself. You leaned forward on your hand, your book sliding down flat on the counter for the first time since you had arrived there.

“How has your shift been so far?” You asked him. Setting aside the rainy conversation for the moment. He shrugged.

“Slow,” was what he decided on after a short moment of thought. “A few of my friends visited earlier. They’re pretty much the only people I’ve seen so far.”

“Besides me,” you said, bordering on giddy. The statement made Donghyuk smile.

“Besides you,” he agreed. “Does that mean you’re planning on keeping me company?”

You looked down at the book on the counter and placed your hand over top of it. Donghyuk watched you, an air of curiosity surrounding him as you the slid the book towards you on the table, and down into your lap, stowing it away in your bag.

You looked back up at him and smiled.

“I guess it does,” you agreed softly.

You didn’t often click with people very quickly. It was easy for you to get bored of a conversation and to return to the activities that you were meaning to get done before everything had happened in the first place. Unluckily for you, that usually meant that even when you did click with people (which again, was rare) your conversations usually fell flat. People just assumed that you weren’t very interested in them or the conversation.

But Donghyuk, didn’t seem to be one of those people.

“What book are you reading anyways?” He asked you. As he spoke, he walked around the counter, setting a rag to the side as he approached you. He smiled at you softly, seeming to find solace in the surprise on your face at his approaching body.

You looked down at your hands.

“Oh, uhm.” You looked back up and smiled. “It’s called the Drifting House. It’s a number of short stories about people who feel out of place. Not really sunshine and lollipops but I thought this would be a good time to check it out.”

You gestured to the window, and Donghyuk laughed, taking a seat at the table as well.

“I suppose the stormy stories have to be explored at some point,” he murmured softly. “But I don’t ever look at sad stories. I prefer the ones with happy endings.”

You laughed at the concept, the idea of a happy ending was so silly, something that so many people sought for but was so difficult to achieve anyways. Everyone around you these days seemed to be a pessimist. You never met a single person these days that looked onto the world in as positive a manner as you.

And you always did look on it in a positive manner. Even when you were down, you knew that realistically, the sun would rise eventually.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Donghyuk mumbled, his cheeks turning a shade of crimson as he sat there in front of you. “I just like it when the two main love interests get together in the end. Or the main character finally accomplishes their lifelong goal. Or they find their missing dog.”

Donghyuk sighed and looked out into the rain.

“I mean imagine a story about two lovers. They meet one day in the rain and spent the most magical time together. The story just illustrates them as they bond in the rain, enjoying one another’s company, but when the rain stops, they don’t see one another again.”

You leaned forward on the table, your elbow digging into the smooth wood in fascination at Donghyuk’s words. You knew that he had more to tell, and you wondering exactly what it would be.

“Until the next time it rains. Again, and again the story is the same. They meet when it’s raining, they have a magical time, and then when the rain stops once again, they are alone. One day, one of them, the boy, proposes, but even the rain can’t hide the girl’s tears and hesitation.

She cries out, wondering what they did to deserve this, why they can’t be together all the time. How he could ever love her, when he can’t even see her every day of the year. And just like that he gets down on his knees in the puddles in the ground takes her by the hand-”

He interrupts his flow to take your hand in his, startling you up just so. His eyes are so wide and genuine.

“No matter what the circumstance, when I see you my heart feels happy. I look forward when dark clouds flood the sky because I know that it means I will see you. What’s the point in spending the rest of my life wishing I could see you every day when I could just take advantage of the you that I get to see when I do. I want to cherish every moment of my life that I get to spend with you, even if I never get to see you in the sunshine. Because I love you.”

You felt like your heart was stuck in your throat. You couldn’t breath. Your mind was racing. You knew that Donghyuk wasn’t talking to you of course, but still your heart pounded, your face turning the reddest that you supposed it ever had to have been in your life.

“And then the rain stopped, and he was there, and so was she and for once in their lives the sun shone on them, and their hands held firmly unto one another, and he could see the tears streaming down her face as she began to nod her head...”

He hesitated, and instantly you knew why. You placed your other hand over his, a smile creeping across your face.

“I love you too. Never let me go.”

“And he never did. And the sunshine never parted the two lovers ever again.”

His fingers slipped from yours, leaving your hands ice cold in the air, but you didn’t say so. Instead you just smiled warmly.

“You just came up with that? Right here? On the spot?” You asked him in awe. He shrugged offhandedly.

“It was nothing,” he assured. “I’m just a bit of a dreamer I guess.”

You scoffed.

“If that was nothing then you just put a whole group of hard-working people out of work,” you mumbled. “Are you a writer on the side?”

“No,” he seemed to consider the response. “Maybe I should be at some point.”

You scoffed.

“Definitely should at some point.”

You shifted your attention back out the window, and sighed.

“You know, it’s been a long time since I have met someone like this,” you murmured. “How often do people make connections off their phones nowadays? I have nothing against dating apps but... This is kind of exhilarating.”

Donghyuk smiled and followed your gaze.

“You know what, I can’t help but agree,” he stated. “Uh, I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help but ask... Do you want to maybe go on a date with me sometime?”

You were so caught offguard by the question that you whipped your head towards him, your eyebrows raising up quickly.

“Date with me?” You blurted. His face was still red and he turned his attention away from you.

“Yeah! I mean, if I didn’t overstep any boundaries,” he responded shyly. You gasped out softly.

“Of course not! I would love to go on a date with you,” you assured. He turned his attention back to you, smiling.

“Will you stay then? For the rest of my shift?” You reached across the table, allowing your fingers to brush his.

“Does it seem like I’m leaving?”

-

"I don't need the rain," I said. "I need you.” ― Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

#enoi #enoi kpop #enoi fanfiction #enoi fanfic #wE caN dO It #Enoi Avin #Enoi Donghyuk #Kpop Fanfiction #Kpop Fanfic #Kpop #underrated kpop groups #Kpop Avin

[lovely-sanie]

𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚢𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚝. 𝟹

⎬𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: NCT Hybrid!AU

⎬𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: ??? x OC

⎬𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2,812

⎬𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: dissociation, beginnings of panic attack, lots of angst

⎬𝚊/𝚗: All parts dealing with dissociation were run through my friend who deals with it. I’m sorry if it’s not 100% accurate, but she said it was pretty close to what happens to her. 

➤ 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷 || 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸

➤ 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

Eunmi wasn’t sure she was hearing Ten correctly.

“They want us to model?” 

Ten nods, flipping through a magazine. “The companies will do this from time to time. They’ll invite a model’s hybrid to pose with the for a spread to make their model seem, I don’t know, more approachable? More real? Whatever it is.”

“But I don’t belong to Taeyong. Surely that’s an issue.”

“Not really. They don’t check papers and tags and backgrounds. We probably won’t even be wearing our collars so no one else will know. You’ve been here for over a month so no one will question whether Taeyong owns you or not.” Ten sets the magazine back on the coffee table. “Honestly, it’s just because we’re Taeyong’s hybrids that we’re posing. If he didn’t have any, they’d rent him one for a couple weeks.”

Eunmi frowns. “That sounds terrible.”

“Yeah. It is. The “renters” get all the money. The hybrids get nothing. It’s honestly pretty disgusting. The hybrids don’t even get to keep things that the models or companies give them. The “renters” take it all.”

“And that’s legal? Like renting human beings is legal?”

Ten shrugs. “The hybrids are supposedly there willingly so it’s similar to an escort service. And I suppose it isn’t the worst life to live. They always have food and a roof over their head. Sometimes that roof is luxurious, other times it’s not. They’re kept healthy so they look nice for photos.”

Shaking her head, Eunmi pulls her knees to her chest. “I couldn’t do it. Not knowing what type of human I’d be rented to. Being rented to humans at all, actually.”

“I couldn’t either. Taeyong is the only human that I trust, even after all these years.”

Eunmi hums. “So what all does this posing involve?”

“They’ll do our hair, our makeup, give us clothes and jewelry to wear, take some photos and that’s it. It’s a lot of chaos, but our part is relatively simple.”

“Me being in the middle of chaos doesn’t seem like the best idea.”

Nodding, Ten slides over to sit next to her, his hand finding her ears and rubbing. “You don’t have to do it. It will be a lot and I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“I want to do it. I’ve been feeling good lately. I want to try and see what happens.”

“Okay. You can leave the moment that you’re uncomfortable.”

Eunmi nods. “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.”

That’s how Eunmi finds herself being dolled up by a makeup artist and hairstylist. A stylist was off to the side picking out an outfit for Eunmi to wear out of a rack of clothes that looked more expensive than her life. 

Eunmi fidgets as the makeup artist steps away to grab something.

“Please stop moving,” the hairstylist says, a glare on her face. “This is already hard enough.”

“Sorry,” Eunmi murmurs, sitting as still as possible.

“Go easy on her, Somin. It’s her first photoshoot,” the makeup artist says.

Somin scoffs. “She shouldn’t be here. Neither of these hybrids should.”

“Somin!”

“I’m saying what everyone is thinking. It’s disgusting that the company wants us to deal with these creatures.”

“Speak for yourself! Hybrids are beautiful creatures and deserve just as much attention as human models.”

Somin shoves her brush and hairspray into the makeup artist’s hands. “You do her hair then. I can’t even do anything good because of those stupid ears.”

Eunmi shrinks down in her seat, covering her ears, her cat ones, with her hands. Somin was the type of human she usually avoided but she couldn’t this time because of this stupid photoshoot. 

Seeing movement somewhere above her, Eunmi looks up. The makeup artist is speaking and gesturing to her, but Eunmi can’t hear her. She’s so lost in her own head that the real world has lost all meaning.

She watches, blankly, as the woman steps away, a panicked look her face.

When she returns, she has Taeyong and Ten in tow along with an annoyed looking older man. Ten immediately kneels in front of her, speaking to her, but hse can’t make out anything that he’s saying.

The next thing Eunmi remembers is sitting on the couch in Taeyong and Ten’s apartment.

Looking around, her brows furrow in confusion. How did she get home? And where was-

“Ten!” she exclaims, running up to the other hybrid as he enters the room.

“Eunmi!” He immediately envelops her in a hug. “You’re okay! Taeyong and I were so worried! You weren’t responding and you just looked so blank and Kun said it was okay and that you would come back but it didn’t seem like it and-”

“Kun?” Eunmi questions. “Dr. Qian was here?”

Ten nods. “He said something about disassociating or something?”

“How did I get home, Ten? I don’t remember.”

Ten steps back, looking concerned now with a frown on his face. “Taeyong and I brought you home, Eunmi. You don’t remember?”

Eunmi whines, shaking her head. “I don’t remember any of it, Ten. What’s wrong with me?”

Ten’s arms back around her immediately. “Shh. Relax for me, please. Kun said that you might not remember certain things and that it was normal for what was happening to you.”

“I’m broken,” Eunmi whispers. 

Ten lifts her chin. “You’re not broken, Mi. You’ve dealt with a lot and this sort of stuff is a natural response to the amount of trauma you’ve been through.”

“Did you go through any of this?”

“The disassociating? No. But I had many panic attacks in the beginning.”

Eunmi looks up at him. “How did you overcome it?”

“I still deal with it,” Ten tells her. “I go to a psychiatrist whenever things start to spiral. It’s a lifelong process. You can get better at dealing with it, but it never truly disappears.”

Frowning, Eumni asks, “How do you trust a human with, like, everything?”

Ten smiles. “It was hard. Especially since I couldn’t keep an eye on him at all times. But he’s really nice and he didn’t push. He let me reveal things at my own pace.”

“Do you-” Eunmi considers her question for a moment. “Do you think something like that would be good for me?”

“Yes. I would say so. But when you feel comfortable. Don’t push yourself too much. You have to get outside your comfort zone, but don’t throw yourself into the deep end with no way back to safety.”

Nodding, Eunmi steps back. “Thank you. Not just for that, but for everything. You’ve helped me so much over the past month.”

“It’s what any being with a heart would do.”

“Still. Thank you.”

“You can thank me by getting better.”

Eunmi’s smile is bright. “Definitely.”

Eunmi’s first therapy session was nothing like what she thought it would be. She expected to lay down on a couch as some old man analyzed every word that came out of her mouth. 

Instead, she sat in an extremely comfortable chair across from the psychiatrist named Dr. Kim, though he had told her to call him Dongyoung. 

The first question out of his mouth wasn’t some weird push into her subconscious.

It was simply, “How has your day been?”

From there, things were even weirder.

There were no in-depth questions pushing her to reveal everything. The questions were soft like what her favorite hobbies were, where her favorite places to nap were. Things most people didn’t care about. 

It felt good to talk about mundane things with someone that wasn’t with her every moment of the day. She had ranted about Ten taking arguably the best spot to nap, which was under the window in Taeyong’s room, and Dongyoung had simply chuckled. He didn’t scold her for acting like a child or sneer at her. 

“Um,” Eunmi pauses at the door as she’s about to leave the session. “What exactly was… this?”

Dongyoung smiles. “Trust is important, Eunmi. If I force you to open up, it’ll send you back ten steps. You need to reveal what is troubling you in your own time. Until then, we will talk about the things Ten does to annoy you.”

Her face scrunches. “I thought therapists were supposed to try to get to the root of things quickly.”

“Sometimes. Other times, we have a notion of what’s wrong and simply have to let our patient tell us.”

Eunmi nods. “Okay. So, next week?”

“Next week,” Dongyoung agrees. “Try to have a good week, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

In the month she had been seeing Dongyoung, she had had 2 dissociation episodes, each caused by a rude human in some sort of setting. The latest one had actually been on her way into Dongyoung’s office for her weekly session. She had bumped into a businessman and spilled his coffee which he yelled and ranted about until she just shut down. She didn’t remember going up to Dongyoung’s office or even the first half of the session. When she came to, Dongyoung was scribbling something down in his notes as she cuddled with a stuffed animal.

“Welcome back,” he had said and smiled. “You were just telling me that you loved soft things a lot.”

He hadn’t treated her like she was insane. He had been worried and expressed his concern then talked through the encounter with her, but not once had he made it seem like there was something wrong with her.

Ten and Taeyong tried to be calm about everything, but when she had shut down during a shopping trip, they had immediately called Dongyoung to figure out how to fix her. It had hurt after she came back to hear it being called “fixing” like there was something broken inside her. She didn’t feel broken. She felt happy. 

They had apologized when she had mentioned it and had assured her that that wasn’t what they meant, but there was still a little nugget in the back of her mind saying that that was exactly what they meant.

Apart from all of that, Jisung and Donghyuk had come to visit again. As promised, Eunmi plays hide and attack with Donghyuk with Jisung and Ten joining in. It was chaotic, to say the least.

“Okay so Jisung will be it first,” Donghyuk states, with a grin.

“Why me?” Jisung whines. “I’m always first.”

“Because you’re the youngest,” Ten offers.

Donghyuk scoffs. “We all know it’s because he’s the only dog.”

Rolling his eyes, Ten shoves the younger boy. “You could at least try to be nice.”

“Nice? What is that?”

Eunmi giggles. “I can go first if you want, Jisung-ah.”

Jisung immediately shakes his head. “No. I’ll go first, noona. It’s okay.”

“Suck-up,” Donghyuk says. “Oh well. Let’s shift!”

Within moments, there are three cats and a dog all sitting in the middle of the living room.

“You know,” Johnny says as he comes to sit on the couch. “It’s kind of funny how tiny you cats are.”

Even in cat form, Donghyuk manages a deadly glare. 

While he’s distracted, Ten nudges her and motions to a box on it’s side that Donghyuk had brought with him specifically for the game. It was in shambles, certain parts barely holding on, but that was apparently what made it so good to use.

She and Ten dash over to it and hide inside, peering out the hole on the bottom. 

Donghyuk, noticing them in his box, lets out a loud complaining meow. 

“Should have been quicker, Hyuk-ah,” Johnny teases.

Donghyuk hisses then jumps when Jisung pounces down behind him. Turning abruptly, he swipes at Jisung’s muzzle making the dog back up.

Donghyuk’s tail whipping angrily catches Eunmi’s attention and her eyes zero in on it. Quietly stepping out of the box and around it, Eunmi lowers her body to the ground and prepares to pounce on the wiggling appendage. 

She’s in the air, halfway to the tail, when Donghyuk whips around. He smacks at her with his paw then pounces on her, sending her tumbling backwards. The two begin play fighting, Eunmi getting distracted by Donghyuk’s tail every few moments. 

In a moment where Donghyuk has her pinned, he’s pounced on and lets out a ‘mrow’ sound as he’s taken down. 

Ten holds him down and bites at his ears and neck. 

Sitting up, Eunmi watches as Donghyuk wiggles around before finally turning on his side and knocking Ten off his back. The two then roll around pawing and biting at one another for a while.

Eunmi, bored, stretches out on her stomach and lays her head on her paws.

Jisung plops down beside her and flops his head onto her back. His body curls around her and she ends up wrapped in a very warmth puppy shaped blanket.

Eunmi doesn’t even notice her eyes drooping as she dozes off.

She’s nudged awake what feels like moments later by a cold, wet nose which must be Donghyuk since Ten’s is usually dry.

Opening her eyes, Eunmi is confused at seeing Donghyuk laying on top of her curled up form, staring at her. He meows then snuggles into her, eyes slipping closed as he starts purring.

“You’re lucky that we’re here until Taeyong gets back later,” Eunmi hears Johnny says. 

There’s another meow from somewhere around the pile she’s in that sounds like Ten, but she really doesn’t have the space to look up to check. That dilemma is solved when Ten wriggles his way underneath her head and curls up with the majority of his body laying on Jisung’s flank and back legs.

A camera clicks above them and Eunmi internally huffs but can’t be bothered to express her dislike of the photography.

“Taeyong will love that one,” is the last thing Eunmi hears before she dozes off again.

It’s that weekend that everything implodes.

It was a calm Sunday with all three inhabitants lazing around the apartment. Taeyong was actually relaxing for once, flipping mindlessly through channels on the TV with Ten’s head in his lap. Eunmi, restless, was walking around, straightening things up.

She was dusting off some glass objects on the shelf underneath the TV when it happened.

She sneezed, knocking one of the knick-knacks off the shelf. She watches in horror as it drops onto the floor, shattering into a hundred pieces.

Tears gather in her eyes as she hears shouts. This was it. This was when Taeyong finally stopped pretending. She knew it was too good to be true. 

Unable to sit and wait for the inevitable punishment, Eunmi jumps up and rushes to her room, locking the door before dashing into the closet and hiding in the back of it.

Rocking back and forth, Eunmi tries to stave off the oncoming panic, nearly succeeding before she just goes blank. 

Staring at the blackness around her, she can vaguely hear someone banging on her bedroom door, but feels nothing about it. 

When she comes back up, she’s sitting on her bed, swaddled in a blanket with her arm in the grip of Dr. Qian who is cleaning a wound on her hand.

“What happened?” she murmurs.

Dr. Qian looks up at her and smiles. “Just a little accident.”

“Please.”

He sighs, looking back down at her hand as he continues gently cleaning it off. “You tried picking up the glass from the knick-knack and sliced up your hand. Nothing major, just looks bad because there’s so many cuts.”

Eunmi buries her head in her blanket. “When am I leaving?”

Dr. Qian’s head snaps up. “You’re not leaving, Eunmi. It was an accident. Taeyong knows that. Hell, Ten has broken more of those knick-knacks than I can count.”

“But Ten belongs to him. I don’t. I’m just a stray that they feel sorry for.”

Dr. Qian leans forward and, with his voice almost a whisper, says, “That’s not true, Eunmi-yah. They love you. You are no different from Ten in Taeyong’s eyes.”

Eunmi sniffles. “Those words sound nice, but I know they’re not true.”

“They are very true.”

Eunmi looks over towards the door and sees Taeyong standing there.

“Ten and I planned to do this in a much more special way, but I guess now is good enough,” Taeyong says, walking over. He sits on the bed beside Eunmi and rests a hand on her back. “I want to adopt you, Eunmi. I want you to have a permanent home here with Ten and I.”

Eunmi’s eyes water. “But I-”

“Ten has purposefully broken hundreds of those. It was an accident. An accident that even I could have had.”

“So you’re not mad?”

Taeyong shakes his head. “Not in the slightest.”

Eunmi looks unsure for a moment, her face scrunched up. “You want to keep me?”

“As long as you want to stay.”

A smile blooms on Eunmi’s face as tears roll down her cheeks.

“I want to stay forever.”

⎬𝚊/𝚗: All that’s left is the epilogue! I may play around with this universe a bit more and involve some other NCT members, but I don’t know yet.

#lovely-sanie #s: halcyon #180knet #nct #nct au #nct hybrid au #nct imagines #nct scenarios #kpop #kpop au #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

[greennct]

buy flowers for your boyfriend | haechan

this is a tiny tiny drabble i had stuck in my head last night. its a lil filler until my jisung thingy comes out sometime this week,,,,,,,,,, basically i think boys should be surprised with boquets too, so i wrote this because my favourite flowers are sunflowers, & my favourite sunflower is donghyuk !! 💞💖💘

(just over 500 words, pure fluff, i should probably put a warning for flustered haechan bc that shit does things to my heart)

song rec: corduroy dreams /loving is easy by rex orange county (i love rex so fucking much lol)

“What’s going on?” Donghyuk smiled at you, confusedly, trying to catch a glimpse of your beaming face hidden behind an obscene amount of golden petals. “Should I be concerned? Are these from your other boyfriend?” He chuckled at little, trying to move some of the sunflowers away from your eyes.

“No, silly, these are for you!”

A small pause. “F-for me?”

Even from your limited viewpoint, you could see how quickly your boyfriend had gone bright red.

“Yeah!” You replied. “I walked past them on the high street, and I just couldn’t resist.”

You managed to manoeuvre the enormous bouquet into his arms, studying his facial expression closely. Donghyuk stayed quiet, staring determinedly at the huge yellow object in his arms, still incredibly flushed.

“Is something wrong?” You started to frown, concerned you had done something wrong. “Sunflowers are your favourite, right?”

He looked up at you for the first time, the beginning of a smile ghosting his lips. “Yeah, they are. Sorry, I just-” He collected himself, shaking his head slightly. “No one’s ever done this for me before.” He grinned at you, properly this time. “Thank you. I mean it.”

You giggled at him, enjoying how your boyfriend was so happy with your tiny surprise. Sidling closer to Donghyuk, you felt an arm snaking around your waist as he tugged you closer, until your nose was inches from his. You felt your knees going slightly weak at the combination of the sunflowers’ delicate earthy scent wafting around your nostrils and Donghyuk’s familiar, fragrant cologne.

“You like them?” You breathed, trying to keep your tone light and not noticeably affected by your close proximity to Donghyuk.

“Of course. Almost as perfect as you.” He replied instantly, voice low, smirking. He was enjoying how quickly the tables had turned, how fast he had made you flustered.

“Good.” You replied curtly, pink dusting the apples of your cheeks. “I’ll buy you flowers more often, then.” You wriggled out of his grip, turning to start walking down the street briskly.

You heard your name being called as Donghyuk immediately jogged after you, shedding petals right and left in his haste. The boy grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers and pulling you backwards, stopping you in your tracks.

“Don’t tease me,” he whined, lips ever so slightly puckered into a pout.

You couldn’t help but to snicker at your boyfriend. “C’mon, loser. Let’s go home.” You gestured towards his bouquet. “We need to put those in water.”

However, when you tried to tug him along, Donghyuk suddenly stood stock still. You heard a soft groan.

“What is it now?” You turned around again, eyebrows raised.

“The guys are going to give me so much shit for this.” He moaned. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He quickly added upon seeing your stormy expression.

You laughed again, leaning up to place an affectionate kiss on his cheek. “Admit you love them.”

Grabbing your jaw gently, Donghyuk brought your lips back to his face, this time placing them softly on his own.

“I love them because you gave them to me.”

#lee donghyuck #lee haechan #haechan #donghyuk fluff #donghyuk drabble #donghyuk drabbles #donghyuk fic #haechan fluff #haechan drabble #haechan drabbles #haechan scenario #haechan fic #nct #nct haechan #nct dream #nct 127 #nct fluff #nct drabbles #nct dream fluff #nct dream drabbles #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 drabbles #nct 127 drabble #writings #soft haechan #donghyuck

[ofwizardsandmen]

Heartbreak Monday (Part I)

Word count: 1.3k

College AU

The smell of freshly baked croissants poured out the kitchen door, making it hard for Mark and co. to concentrate on the assignment at hand. It was Monday morning and the other very plausible explanation was that the overindulges from the weekend hadn’t cleared up from their systems yet, but Mark chose to believe Doyoung, Donghyuck and Jaehyun were only having a bad case of the Monday Morning Blues.

“I can’t deal with this anymore, I’m hungry!” Doyoung complained, letting the book he was holding fall back on the table, causing Jaehyun to wince as though he were in pain and massage his temples.

“How about a break?” Mark questioned, his signature gentle smile spreading over his face.

“Please.” Doyoung said eagerly while Jaehyun only nodded indifferently. “I really need one and this one needs something that wakes him up” He said pointing at his right with the thumb.

Donghyuck had already started his break a while ago. Head resting on his folded arms, back hunched as low as possible, he had been sleeping for a solid 15 minutes while his friends worked on what was supposed to be HIS assignment.

“Alright” Mark agreed easily, but Doyoung ignored him, too focused frowning down at Donghyuck’s notes, that included the doodle of something oddly similar to a heart accompanied by the words DY&Adela.

Huffing, Doyoung gave the young guy a hard elbow and grunted something that sounded a lot like “Get up, you fool”, but that Mark settled for thinking it was “get up, there’s food”.

Startled, and glaring at him, Donghyuck rubbed the spot where the older guy hit him, but he didn’t dare to add a word once their eyes met. After all, the fact his frat bros were there was his fault. Not to mention that convincing them to help him had cost him more than he was willing to admit, well, mainly Doyoung and Jaehyun… Mark, poor Mark was just easy to guilt trap.

“What, are you guys leaving already?” Donghyuck’s eyebrows went up after registering the way Mark had started bookmarking pages and piling the books in a corner of the table. “Hey, Yang! you said Tara was going out with her friends.” The guy reminded him judgmentally while still feeling betrayed by who was supposed to be one of his best friends. It wouldn’t have been the first time Mark left him to suffer on his own while he spent time with his girlfriend, but he couldn’t stop himself from pouting a bit.

“We’re just taking a break for croissants and another round of coffee” Doyoung sent an eye-roll, closed the book he had been reading —or pretending to— and went to stand  behind a few people waiting to place their order.

“I don’t think I’m ready for croissants yet” Donghyuck whined in the typically childish voice he used to manipulate his older brothers and never failed to get him out of trouble.  

“After all you drank last nigh, I’m pretty sure it’s too soon to try solid food” Jaehyun mocked, standing up and moving to join Doyoung.

“Get me a coffee?” Donghyuck blinked cutely at Mark, scooting closer and placing a hand on his chin, eyelashes batting coyly.

“All you’ll get is a beating if you don’t stop being gross” Mark snarled, his smile never fading from his lips even though his hand had already balled into a fist and he was threatening his friend with it.

Conveniently enough the ringing of the tiny bell heralding the arrival of new customers distracted Mark, making him look over his shoulder just in time to see Tara walk in, followed by Arabella, her high school friend and a business major Donghyuck had a crush on.

“Tara! You came just in time to see your boyf-“ Donghyuck restrained himself from speaking further when his eyes met Arabella’s intense gaze. For some reason, she already seemed upset and as much as he normally enjoyed teasing Tara and Mark, Donghyuck came to the conclusion that this was not a particularly good moment to do so.

“Hey, what are you doing here, I thought you guys were going to-“ Instead of greeting him with a kiss, as Mark hoped Tara would, the girl only approached enough for her to throw a piece of paper into his face. Mark blinked confused, not really grasping what was happening until a heartbeat later when he picked the pink post-it from his lap and noticed Mindy’s handwriting —he knew it was hers because she was the only person he knew, who still put hearts instead of dots on the i’s.

“I hope you had spent a very good night with Mindy, Mark” Tara said without preamble, expression almost unreadable. Arabella, standing a few meters behind Tara only nodded vigorously, apparently approving of her friend’s words.

“What?” Mark asked, still dumbfounded by Tara’s unexpected arrival and even more unexpected words.

“Yes, Mark, I found the note your little whore friend slid in your book to thank you for the amazing night you two spent this weekend while I was home working on our assignment for Ms. Fletcher like the idiot I am” She said, speaking so fast, that for a moment Donghyuck thought he didn’t understand the actual problem until Tara threw a folder and a literature book onto the table “There you go, you can finish something for the first time in your life” She darted a frightening glance at Donghyuck —probably thinking he would make a joke about the finishing part— before taking a deep breath and going on. “We’re done.”

The next bit happened just as Donghyuck expected and in his humble opinion thought as quite inevitable. Tara turned her back on them and started to exit the room. She walked right past Sungjae who greeted her with a smile that faded the second she ignored him and reached for the door escorted by Arabella.  

“Tara, please-“ Mark faltered in a rather deceptive attempt to stop her.

“Not now, Yang” Arabella spoke for the first time, eyes looking at him sternly as she held her hand up to stop him from getting closer “You’ve done enough for the day” she added, her tone equal parts condescending and threatening.

On any normal day, Donghyuck found Arabella Black quite scary, beautiful with her long locks of blonde hair framing her pretty face, but scary nevertheless. There was something about the way she stared at people that always seemed to keep everybody around her at bay —something he loved about her—, but this time the girl seemed genuinely ready to mete out justice and cause Mark severe injury.

On any normal day, Donghyuk would’ve also been the first person to jump in the let’s-ruin-Mark’s-life-for-fun bandwagon, but even Lee Donghyuck with his utter lack of tact realized that his friend looked appalled enough. He thought to himself that maybe Arabella could’ve turned the hostility down a notch. After all, whatever was going on was supposed to involve Mark and Tara only —and probably Mindy, if he’d understood correctly—. But then again, supporting your friends through thick and thin was an unspoken rule of friendship.

Mark really looked like he needed that support when Tara and Arabella walked out of the café and squeezed in the back of Enzo’s Porshe with the rest of their friends, so Donghyuck jumped from his seat and wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

“I told you to stop being gross” Mark muttered, his eyes itching strangely.

“I know you don’t really mean that” Donghyuck shrugged, his hand patting the side of Mark’s arm.

Mark remained silent, not daring to move as though he were expecting to snap back to a reality where Tara and he were still meeting up for lunch and breathing didn’t make his chest ache so unbearably.

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#story #tara #mark #jaehyun #nct #college au #oc #otp #arabella #friends