#i want to treat him like an angel because that's who he is :( | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hongjoongsart · 3 days

Text

Too Sweet | Jeong Yunho

🥃 Summary: Two complete opposites who are quickly falling for each other, one wanting more but the other afraid of all the things that could go wrong.

🥃 Pairing(s): upcoming rockstar!Jeong Yunho x F!Reader

🥃 Genres/Tropes: upcoming-rockstar au, opposites attract au, what could have been, fluff, angst, suggestive, hurt/no comfort

🥃 Warnings/Tags: Fem!reader, no use of Y/N, kinda yunho centric, explicit language, insecure yuyu, use of alcohol, smoking cig, arguments, mingi is a good friend, mention of religion and satan, stereotypes about rockbands, post-orgasm conversations, making out and brief nipple play (f receiving), a lot of crying, sad ending, not beta read and MDNI!!!

🥃 Wordcount: 19.9K

🥃 Author's note, pt.1: It's been a while....Here's a lil something inspired by hozier's too sweet. The way I have so many drafts for this story in different AUs. I couldn't decide whether to make it into an Idol AU or not, so I did a mix. 😭 It wasn't supposed to be that long either but apparently I have no limits when it comes to writing lmao. Keep in mind that I have little to no knowledge about instruments, rock bands, etc, so everything I know is from given (the anime), KISS and wikipedia. English isn't my first (or second) language, so if there are any errors please do tell.

AO3 masterlist Click on me!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent Yunho in any way or form.

The first time Yunho laid eyes on you he knew you’d never be his. Not because of some ancient family feud forbidding you from one another or because you were star crossed lovers in a dystopian world. No, it wasn’t anything dramatic like that.

You’d never be his because Yunho would simply not let it happen.

Yunho jumped off the makeshift stage set up in the corner of the saloon that waited on them each Friday night and walked through the drunken crowd of people. The band finished their weekly gig at Crescent and were being treated to drinks by the owner for bringing such a big crowd to the bar.

Slightly hunched over the counter, left forearm pressing against the smooth wooden surface while the other idly rested on his thigh and feet propped on the footrest, Yunho silently thanked the bartender for the drinks. One for him and the other for his bandmate seated to his right. The drummer brought a lot of attention to them, with his bleached hair styled to get that disheveled spiked look and handful of tattoos and piercings littering his body. Despite the flashy details, Mingi was quite the eye-candy. His thick lips and equally big and straight nose, made him popular with the ladies as well as the men, and not to mention his chiseled jaw. A big pair of shades covered his fox-eyes – he was too lazy to smudge some makeup on – and the miniature face tattoo reading ‘fix-on’ inked on his cheekbone, unlike the big butterfly on his neck that was fully exposed.

Yunho usually didn’t like sitting at the corner of the long bar, but it provided more space for his long legs and a better view to the rest of the room which, on second hand, he was grateful for otherwise he’d miss the door opening and the group of girls coming through. Each was different from the other, he thought as he skimmed past them only to back track at the last one trailing in.

Staring at you from across the room – a place he never imagined a speck of purity in – he swiveled the drink in hand, allowing the whiskey to swish around in the bottom before tipping his head back and letting some of the brown liquor cascade down his throat. Despite having a speaker right above his head, your angelic laughter still managed to reach Yunho’s ears and it was better than any melody performed by the next indie group. Eyes wandering down your figure, body clad in a white sundress with a pattern of miniature pink roses, he stopped at the heart shaped front giving a little tease of what hid beneath. The fabric hugged tightly around your torso and hips, then widened like a flower in bloom and stopped right above your knees. A gold necklace with a delicate heart pendant rested subtly near the crevic of your chest. Arms and legs bare, only a matching golden bracelet glinting on your right wrists and nails painted in white. You wore the cutest pair of pink ballet flats Yunho had ever seen and it brought a little smile to his face.

“What are you smiling about?” Mingi asked with a teasing tilt to his voice, a brow curiously arched and bottom lip stuck between his teeth.

Yunho shook his head and took another calculated sip of his drink.

“Nothing.”

“Right, so you didn’t just plan a marriage with the angel-look alike overthere, huh?” Mingi nodded towards the girls who were inching closer to an empty table. “She seems sweet.”

And sweet you were. Oh, so sweet. From your strawberry lip gloss to the notes of your brown sugar and vanilla perfume lingering in the air. Eyes twinkling in the dim lights and nose scrunching before a giggle came out at one of your friends’ jokes, hand automatically going up to cover your mouth.

“Well,” Mingi started and tapped his fingers against the bar, “if you’re gonna shoot your shot about now would be the time to do it.”

On cue you passed the two giants and stopped to the left of Yunho where you could get a clear view of the bartender, and hopefully catch his attention. Being the one to cancel the last outing, you took it on yourself to pay for the first round of drinks as a way of apologizing to the girls even if they didn’t chastise you for it.

You were prettier up close, Yunho thought as he scanned your profile. Pretty lips, gorgeous eyes and captivating makeup.

“Hey,” he finally said and slightly turned towards you.

A friendly smile splayed on his face and ears were slightly red either from his drink or the warmth from the heavily packed bar. Never one to turn down a conversation, you greeted him back with upturned lips and faced the front again. Luck wasn’t on your side as the bartender brushed past you on multiple occasions, eyes filtering over you as if you weren’t there. Not giving up, you let out a huff of annoyance and stepped closer. Standing on your tiptoes – not that you needed it, but maybe then you’d get his attention – and arms crossed over the surface you followed his movements, eyes burning into him but to no avail. The man took order after order and not once did you get the chance to speak up. Yunho, who watched the whole thing play out, slightly raised his hand and the bartender spawned before him in seconds. Lips parted in disbelief, you couldn’t believe how easy the dark haired man made it out to be. There you were, waiting like a dog for a crumb of attention while he got it with a lift of his fingers.

“This pretty lady has been wanting to order for a while now,” Yunho stated calmly, yet his eyes were hard as steel.

Saying nothing, the bartender turned to you with a raised brow, quietly urging you to spit it out.

“Two mojitos, one martini and mai tai, please.” As the bartender got to work, you thanked the guy with the helping hand.

“No worries, it tends to get rather busy here on Fridays…That’s a lot for just one lady though.”

“Well, this lady didn’t come alone.”

In any other circumstance, Yunho would interpret the statement as snarky and a telltale of not being interested but your soft spoken words said the complete opposite.

“Ah, there go my plans of buying you a drink.”

Taking a better look at the man you realized he was quite handsome. Face full of delicate features; a long nose, thin cupid’s bow mouth and eyes soft but dark as the handful of oak trees outside. The smokey makeup fit the whole wanna-be-rock-star-look and so did the ring protruding from the left side of his bottom lip. His mass of black and burgundy hair was ruffled up and parted in the middle, revealing his forehead. Blue pants with interesting design swirls fit around his legs and he wore a black sleeveless shirt that showed off his perfectly formed biceps and shoulders. A bunch of silver necklaces hung around his neck and each finger was adorned with one or two rings; some thin and plain, and others thick and covering whole digits. So not only was he handsome, but had a good fashion sense too. All he was missing was the sleeve of tattoos and you’d dub him a real rock star. Eyes crinkling and lips pursing in an almost teasing manner, you decided to take a huge leap of faith.

“Who’s to say you still can’t?”

The teasing remark indicated you didn’t know he was a member of Blue Bird and it sent waves of relief through him. It wasn’t like he didn’t want you to know about the band, but most people that did only approached him because of it and not his personality. Starting a conversation with ‘fuck me like a rockstar’ quote unquote, wasn’t the best way to get into Yunho’s pants.

“Perhaps the partner you came with.”

Yunho’s chin rested against the palm of his hand, brows slightly raised and lips quirked up.

“Lucky for you, it’s just me and my girlies.”

“As much as I’d like to crash ladies night, let’s do this instead. I’ll give you my number and you text me when you’re feeling for another drink, on me, yeah?”

Like a moth drawn to a flame, you subconsciously leaned closer to him. Slightly swaying side to side with eyes trained on him, completely missing the entertained look on Mingi’s face who watched the interaction with glee. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d pick a person up from a night out, even upcoming rock stars had needs to quell, but something was telling Mingi you weren’t interested in a quickie in the bathroom. Forever engraving the image of his friend smiling at a girl that was the complete opposite of him, Mingi smiled. Perhaps you were the cube of sugar Yunho needed with his all too bitter coffee.

The second time Yunho laid eyes on you he really wished for things to work out. That despite your differences you’d find a balance solid enough to keep a healthy relationship. While Yunho usually wasn’t a naive guy, his adoration towards you weighed heavier than any rational thought screaming at him to cut the interaction short. Wanting to bask just a little more in the sunlight that was you, Yunho decided – for once – to be selfish.

It was a Wednesday afternoon when you stepped foot in a, you wouldn’t call it a rundown neighborhood but it wasn’t that wellkept either. The playgrounds made for kids were far from eye-catching with the once vibrant colors taken over by rust that even you – an adult – wouldn't try out the rides. The navigation in your phone chimed as you entered a white building identical to the other structures and began climbing the several flights of stairs, re-reading Yunho’s instructions of how to get to his place. Chest heaving and cheeks ablaze, you sent three rapid knocks against the door. One would believe the resident’s surname to be somewhere near but that wasn’t the case as only the apartment number in metal was drilled on the wall beside. The door swung open and you were greeted by a smiling Yunho, the lip ring glinting in the corridor lights.

“Hey, I was worried you wouldn’t find your way here but you’re a pro.”

While you weren’t dressed in a cute sundress, you still looked as sweet with your pink knitted sweater and light blue pants. What really took his breath away were the bright bows in your hair. If you were the sun then Yunho was the moon with his dark bottoms and identical hoodie thrown over the only bright fabric on his body.

“Now you know not to underestimate me, Yunho.”

Hands thrown up in surrender, he walked backwards as you followed in tow.

“Consider the lesson learned.”

The apartment was neater than expected – white walls, laminated flooring and a few family pictures hanging here and there – considering it was in the care of two guys and the interior proved that as the living room solely consisted of a sofa big enough for two with a small coffee table in the middle and the biggest plasma TV you had ever seen nailed to the wall. On the brightside there weren’t any dirty underwear or rotten leftovers lying everywhere.

“Well this is my place, or mine and my roommate’s, but still welcome.”

“It looks nice,” you honestly responded and that counted as a victory in Yunho’s books.

“Thank you, obviously I do all the furniture shopping. My friend isn’t all that interested in the interior of the place as long as we have somewhere to sit and sleep.”

The kitchen was shaped in an upside down L with black tiled floor starting from the threshold, the walls were still white. The slimmer and oblong part consisted of black marble counters and the usual mechanics that had a little shine to them telling you they cost a good penny. In the wider part of the kitchen was a round table and a set of four chairs. Black curtains were drawn together yet you could make out an empty balcony through the small gap. There weren't a lot of miscellaneous decorations in the place, as if the apartment was barely in use but to stay the night. Taking a seat by the dinner table, you rested your chin against your palms and smiled as Yunho opened the fridge.

“Ah, is that why there’s a massage chair in the hallway?”

The cold temperature chilled Yunho’s burning cheeks. Collecting himself, he slid you a can of coke and took out the rest of the preparations he needed to make dinner.

“That’s one of Yeosang’s many dumb investments, once again why I’m in charge of the interior.”

“He’s the one with the neon green hair, right?” You recalled as the different faces came to mind.

“Yup.”

It dawned on you that all of Yunho’s friends were strikingly handsome, but Yeosang was by far the prettiest. With a face of both sharp and soft features he was sculpted better than any ancient Greek statue, and possessed a jaw sharp enough to cut through skin. His eyes were large and dark but with a gentle shape to them, just like his heart shaped lips. A raspberry smudge bloomed by the side of his upper cheek, another pretty and heart shaped detail to his already unique face. His hair was long enough to be tucked behind his ear with some neon green strands falling in his line of sight. This man could very well fit in the Louvre and no one would bat an eye.

The afternoon continued pleasantly as dinner was made. Yunho, who had barely any cooking knowledge, relied on you who relied on an online recipe. Saving you the trouble of accidentally burning down the kitchen, Yunho decided to cut up vegetables and prepare the table while you were responsible for the chicken and ramen that turned out great considering neither having prior-experience of making a real meal. The success was celebrated with a brand new flask of wine that Yunho apparently saved for special occasions, completely dismissing your protests.

“So what does the Yunho do for a living?”

The question wasn’t foreign to him as everyone back in Gwangju asked it – some out of spite and others with genuine curiosity – yet anxiety seeped under his skin, raising the hair along his arms as his doe eyes widened. Noticing the lack of mischief behind your choice of words, he willed himself to relax and masked the surprised expression with a smirk.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Considering we barely know anything ‘bout each other…yes.”

Despite having alcohol in your system you noted the hesitation flash across his features, shoulders sagging and fingers slightly clenching around the utensils. It hit you that everything besides his governmental name – and the fact that he lived with a roommate who was working late – was undisclosed. For a moment you entertained the idea of Yunho going under a false name or that you could possibly be on a date with a geondal. Why else would he invite you to his home and not somewhere public? You made a mental note to share your location in the group chat just to be on the safer side. The motion of his hand going to scratch the back of his neck plunged you out of your wild fantasies.

“Okay, but it might come as a shock…or not, we’ll see.”

That did not help his geondal-agenda and Yunho took notice of your sudden silence, quickly waving his hand in a no-motion.

“It’s nothing bad I promise. It’s just…not a normal nine to five job and it’s, well, not many are supportive of it and it doesn’t…pay much.”

The piece of chicken in your mouth wasn’t as satisfying anymore. Thinking it probably couldn’t hurt to know considering he was so willing to share it, you slowly nodded. Instead of giving an immediate answer, Yunho inhaled deeply and ran his hand through his black locks.

“I’m the lead guitarist of Blue Bird with three other guys…and Yeosang’s our manager.” Yunho scratched the back of his head, “I’m sorry for not saying anything earlier but I figured you didn’t know and I wanted to keep it that way so you wouldn’t build an image of me based on what other people say. Now that I’m saying it outloud I realize how dumb that was and quite selfish of me and I’m sorry if that offends you?”

“Oh, oh! Not that all! It explains a lot actually, I mean I thought you were just dressing as a rockstar but now that I know you’re one, let’s just say it makes sense.”

The sincerity brought him ease and eyes turned soft again. Yunho never blushed but his ears always gave him away, currently glowing red like the organic tomatoes in the cornershop and lips pulled in a gentle smile. The whole exchange was going smoother than anticipated and he only hoped it wouldn’t ruin the friendship you built up so far.

“Plus, it’s not that far from what I had in mind,” you continued.

“And dare I ask what you would guess then?”

“Fine, but you can’t laugh at me for it, promise?”

Reaching over the table you held out your pinky finger, waiting for him to latch onto it with his own.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

Ignoring the swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you took a sip of the red wine and cleared your throat.

“A body artist.”

Almost choking on his ramen, Yunho coughed and recovered before you could think much of it.

“I think you’ve got the wrong impression. I’m not anywhere near suitable for that job, like I hate the feel of shit piercing skin and I can’t draw for the life of me.”

“Well, I blame the rings and clothes. And besides, what is it really that determines how good of an artist you are? I mean art is a personal thing, just like music, right? Obviously not everyone’s going to like everything you do but it doesn’t mean it’s badly done. So I don’t think it’s a question of how good you are, rather a question of personal taste.”

Speechless. You had rendered him speechless. A few years ago, when Yunho revealed he wouldn’t be applying for college and would try the one in a million chance of becoming a superstar, everyone was against it, claiming that the career wouldn’t last long and he’d eventually return back to Gwangju empty handed (not to mention the claims he was being possessed by Satan). The only one giving him enough support to cover for his absent family was Yeosang, who followed Yunho to Seoul, and now you, practically a stranger he hadn’t even known for more than a few weeks.

As you looked up from your bowl, you were startled at his baffled expression and immediately put down your utensils.

“Did I say something wrong?”

His heart beat loud in his chest and palms grew sweaty under your curious gaze. Mouth parted as he struggled to answer the question and finally settled on an awkward chuckle.

“No, it just…caught me off guard,” he assured and quickly averted the spotlight on you. “Enough of me, I want to know more about you. Tell me, what do you do then, is it something more exciting than dancing in a room all day?”

“I don’t know about that, but it’s nothing cool like yours–”

“And I wouldn’t think anything less of you either way.”

Smiling like a thousand suns you said, “I’m a preschool teacher.”

Of course, Yunho thought, even your line of work had to be cute. It was only right for a kind soul like yours to be at a place surrounded by everything innocent and pure. Although Yunho liked performing and singing in front of others, staying awake until the early hours of the morning, perfecting different riffs and learning new pitches of singing, he didn’t like how it added to the growing distance between you.

“Would you look at that, I think you’re even sweeter now.”

You took a bite of the food as you let the revelation sink in. The compliment getting to your head and warming your cheeks. You had been called every sweet adjective under the sun. Cute, endearing, angelic, the words were a repetitive mantra in your life but hearing them from Yunho made you feel like a high schooler buzzing to jump in bed and just write down the whole conversation – dotting your ‘i’s with hearts and stars – to read back in a couple of years and remember the affection bestowed on you.

Waking up to the motion of his phone buzzing violently beside his head, Yunho groaned and pressed the off button without checking the caller ID. He mentally cursed Mingi for being an early bird and not knowing how to respect others' boundaries. The sun creeped through the blinds in his room, reflecting in the body length mirror and hitting him right in the eyes. Yunho covered his head with one of the many pillows surrounding him. A few seconds later his phone went off again and he gave up on catching some extra z’s. Sitting up, hair messy and face puffy, he rubbed the sleep from the corners of his eyes and squinted at the bright screen of his phone. The numbers showed 10:03 AM and below was your name followed by a picture of you staring at a sunflower stopping a few inches above your head. Entranced by the image he took of you a few days ago, when he was free from schedule, he startled as his home screen appeared with a message popping up seconds after.

You [10:06 AM] Does coffee sound like a good excuse to spend time together? :P

If there was one thing Yunho cherished more than his bed then it would be coffee. Black coffee that tasted bitter but warmed him up like a cup of hot chocolate. It dawned on him that he only got around four hours of sleep and he needed at least six to function like a guy who gets the recommended amount, but saying no to you was worse than making a kid cry by simply offering a smile.

Yunho [10:08 AM] Do you even need to ask? I’ll pick you up in ten

Yunho [10:08 AM] Btw you don’t need an excuse to see me ;)

He threw on random clothes scattered around the room, a white shirt and black pants – but not before giving them a few excessively sniffs – and his obligatory leather jacket, the one with fuzz on the inside. Falling asleep with wet hair came to bite him in the rear as the strands wouldn’t cooperate now, refusing to lay down tidely. Lucky for Yunho, nine out of ten times he could just cover it with his helmet. Catching one last look in the mirror he sighed at the dark circles under his eyes. He quickly ventured into his bathroom and dragged the red-ish eyeliner pencil close to his lash line. It looked messy and nowhere near neat as when Seonghwa did it for him but it was alright. If you didn’t sneer at a sweaty Yunho with black liner smeared everywhere then you probably wouldn’t now either.

The sound of his motorcycle echoed through the block and he ignored the dirty looks passed from the elderly women sitting outside. As promised, Yunho was in front of your apartment with a few seconds to spare. He killed the engine and edged the kickstand into position with his left foot. While waiting on you, he unclasped the spare helmet from the chassis of the bike and made sure it was clean. Hongjoong, the leader and bassist of Blue Bird, had yet to get his driver’s license and would catch lift from the other guys which left everyone with a really small helmet in their possession. Yunho just hoped it would fit you.

The sound of someone clearing their voice caught his attention and as Yunho turned the breathe was knocked out of his lungs. He liked to think he was getting immune to the effect your skirts had on him, but no one warned him for the white lacy tank tops especially not when the material was hidden beneath your blue cardigan. Trying to play it off, he thrusted the helmet in your hands.

“I didn’t know you had a motorcycle,” you started and checked it out.

Whatever brand it was, it looked cool. You especially liked how it played into Yunho’s rock star style and matched his hair; entirely black with red design stripes going from front to back.

“Are you okay with riding?”

The dirty thoughts were pushed to the far back of his mind as he reminded himself of who he was talking to. You weren’t just a random chick he picked up after one of his shows; figuratively.

You hummed and stepped closer, your hand hovering over the seat. “I think so. As long as I don’t fall off.”

“As if I’d ever let that happen. Here, lemme help you with the helmet.”

“It’s fine, Yuyu, you’ve proven yourself a gentleman multiple times and I think I can do this.”

Hearing nothing beyond the unexpected nickname, his brain crashed like a hard disk from overheating. Thoughts a jumbled mess where the only thing making sense was the new abbreviation of his name. Yunho gripped the helmet as if it were a lifeline keeping him from straying away with the tidal wave. The gentle touch of your palm against his brought him back to reality.

“Are you okay?”

Chuckling like he always did when you caught him being weird, he shook his head and gently pushed the helmet over your own.

“Just a bit tired–” the worried scrunch of your brows stopped him mid sentence “–it’s nothing to worry about I promise. I’ll be back to normal after we get some caffeine pumping in my veins.”

“Were you sleeping? Oh, no, I woke you up, didn’t I? Yunho, I told you to tell me off when practices were running late!”

“And you know I’d never bring myself to do that, I like spending time with you.”

“And I’d rather not have you running on coffee and zero sleep! I could’ve just made myself a cup at home.”

“But then we wouldn’t be here enjoying each other’s company. Now, is this alright? Try shaking your head a bit and see if it's not too tight or too loose.”

You did as told and the headgear barely budged which earned you a thumbs up from Yunho. He then flicked the visor down and you let out a ‘hey’ in protest. Sucking on the inside of your cheek, you gingerly studied him. While he looked sleep deprived he didn’t act the part, and you didn’t know if he did it to keep you from worrying or if he was genuinely alright.

“It’s alright. Not too tight or loose, but listen! The coffee’s on me,” you declared and before he could protest you quickly filled the short silence, “or I’m never going with you anywhere again. I’m serious, Yunho.”

“...Only if you call me that again.”

“Call you what? Yunho?”

“No. The other thing, y’know…”

A smile broke out on your face when you realized what he was implying.

“Yuyu?”

The rockstar whipped his head so fast you thought he’d snap it off his neck.

“Oh, you are mean.”

“No, I just did what you asked me to!”

The inbuilt bluetooth did a great job transmitting your sugary laughter and God was he proud of himself for thinking ahead. He could never get enough of it and it was like music to his ears and it warmed him better than the sun of a summer’s day.

“Put this on.” He handed you his leather jacket.

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, I’m a big boy.”

Yunho helped you mount the motorcycle, giving you tips on how to swing your feet and where to hold so the whole thing wouldn’t fall over. Not that it was possible as his legs were glued to the pavement.

“And your hands go here.” He grabbed your wrists and placed them around his stomach so your front was flushed to his back. “Don’t be afraid to hold on.”

The contact had your face burning and you wondered if he was anywhere near as flustered. You wondered if he was always this touchy or was it some exclusive treatment.

The local coffee shop you frequently visited or stopped by before your shift at the preschool wasn’t packed, which came as a surprise considering it was almost lunch hour but nothing you complained about.

“Okay, what are you getting?” You asked and gazed up at the oversized menu on the wall behind the workers.

Maybe you’d get a strawberry macchiato or a caramel one, you couldn’t decide– oh, the matcha tea didn’t sound too bad either. Yunho hummed in fake wonder with his eyes trained on an oblivious you. He didn’t need to read the menu to know what he was getting.

“I think I’ll take a caramel macchiato, I mean I had the strawberry one last time so it’s only fair I try something else now,” you argued mostly to yourself and like your coffee choice, Yunho found the rambling to be cute.

“That makes sense but I don’t think there are rules for what you can drink and when you can drink it, sweetpea.”

Toes touching the wall and hands holding the counter for support, you tilted your head backwards and looked Yunho right in the eyes. The top of your head barely grazed his chest and he restrained himself from gently grabbing your hips. You were slightly taken back at the pet name that rolled off his tongue. You expected a lot but not that.

“Sweetpea? That’s a new one.”

“I figured you’ve heard most of them so I wanted to try something new.”

Trying to keep your eagerness on the low you stifled a giggle.

“Ahhhh, you wanted to stand out, is that it?”

“I didn’t know it was a crime to speak my truth, I guess I’ll just have to call you something cheesy like petal or sweet cheeks.”

“If it makes you feel better, no one's called me either of those things, Yuyu. So you’re doing a good job at both standing out and being cheesy.”

The tips of his ears burned and Yunho internally groaned as all his thousand good comebacks flew out the window, and right when he thought he was going to embarrass himself the barista – unintentionally – swooped in and saved the day.

“Welcome to Star’s Coffee, are you ready to place your order?”

Jumping abruptly from Yunho, you politely smiled and nodded.

“Yu–yes. I’ll take a caramel macchiato”

“Will that be hot or iced?”

“Iced please, and then we’ll take a…”

“An iced americano,” Yunho quickly filled in, “Black with no milk, thank you.”

As agreed you swiped your card and paid for the drinks even if it hurt Yunho’s pride. Deciding to sit at a table by the window, he quickly ran ahead of you and pulled out a chair and beamed brightly. It fit right in with the other chivalrous gestures Yunho spoiled you with and while you weren’t used to being pampered, you could totally get behind it. Before he could occupy the seat across from you, the barista’s voice stole the spotlight as she called out your orders and he was already walking in her direction.

“A caramel macchiato for m’lady and an iced americano for the fine gentleman keeping her company.”

You looked up at Yunho and thanked him through a giggle as he handed you the beverage. An identical paper cup was cradled in his hand, fingers wrapping all the way around and nearly making it as if he was holding air. He occupied the seat across from you and as he got comfortable, you jokingly raised the drink and smiled as the cups bumped against each other. Taking your first sips together, you waited for the sweetness to hit your tongue and cringed at the strong metallic taste that followed instead.

“Oh, God that’s sweet,” Yunho exclaimed as the heavily sugared coffee exploded in his mouth.

“And this is horrible! How can you, ugh– How can you even drink this? It’s strong and bitter and give me back my coffee!”

“Coffee?! That’s like unicorn piss mixed with water and sugar, how can you drink that is my question.”

“At least it doesn’t taste like something straight out of my grandma’s garden,” you bit back and tried washing out the dirt-ish flavor with extra big sips of your so-called unicorn piss coffee.

Spoiler: it didn’t help.

“I don’t get it,” Mingi voiced from beside Yunho, fingers quickly fiddling with the joysticks on his Xbox controller.

The drummer looked nothing like on their nights out. Face bare from makeup and his usually gelled hair was combed and took on the resemblance of a cloud. Instead of skin tight clothes he had a worn out Fall Out Boy shirt he bought a few years back and paired it off with some loose fitted pajama bottoms. His neck and fingers were bare from kilos of jewelry, it was just his colored nails and chest tattoo that were still there. Yunho took ‘bare’ to another level as he walked around in his underwear and just a pair of Spiderman socks.

The boys sat on the sofa which was barely big enough to fit both of them, knees touching and eyes glued to the TV-screen. The gaming session had been running for at least an hour or two and the street outside Yunho’s apartment was slowly being emptied of cars and people. Yunho would soon have to start getting ready for the dinner he invited you out to. Reservations were made at a little pricier restaurant for people with enough money to be deemed important or idols and celebrities who wanted some privacy from the prying eyes of locals and camera lenses. Yunho obviously didn’t have the money for it but with a few pulled strings and a call to his friend in the fashion industry, he made it work.

“What don’t you get?”

The question came a few seconds later and it wasn’t anything Mingi paid attention to as they were both occupied with protecting their base from demons and gargoyles.

“Why you don’t just ask her out. You’ve been hounding her for like, what? Four months now?”

“I haven’t been hounding after her,” Yunho argued, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in a sneer.

“Dude.”

Pausing the game Mingi turned to his childhood best friend and the guy had the audacity to stare back at him with an equally deadpanned look.

“What? I haven’t.”

“Don’t what me, Yunho. Is this thing serious or are you just having fun because from what I understand she’s not a one and done type of girl, is she?”

Almost as if defeated, the lead guitarist slumped back against the couch and sighed. Mingi was right, you weren’t just a girl he picked up from a nightclub hoping for a quickie that would leave him waking up to an absent space the morning after. You were a girl who liked to take things slow. Three dates and maybe on the fourth one you’d reward him with a peck on the cheek. If he was lucky you’d hold his hand as you walk side by side, slowly unraveling each other’s preferences. Early bird or night owl, cats or dogs, sunrise or sunset, the list was endless and he’d know more about you than his own best friend by the end of the day.

Gigs, parties and one night stands were fun. It was a fast life that made him feel alive, like he had a purpose being on stage besides signing autographs for random people or finding a minimum wage job. Then he met you, the girl with the pretty bows in her hair and an unhealthy addiction to strawberry flavored pocky rather than his cancer sticks, and realized you brought him that joy too. Through the jokes you could barely get out between your giggles or your affectionate yet worrisome words reminding him to drink two glasses of water for every cup of coffee he poured. And it was always a pleasant surprise waking up with you knocking on his door, a freshly baked batch of brownies in hand as you bid him a good morning despite it being three in the afternoon. It was the small things Yunho liked, but also despised, because if you were everything good – the white marble in his sack of charcoal – what was he?

“I don’t know,” Yunho finally answered.

“Don’t know if it’s serious or…?”

“I don’t know what I want. If I want a serious relationship or just someone to pass time with, and I know how that sounds; it’s fucking awful, and she doesn’t deserve that nor would she be up for it either. She dates to marry, and well, let’s be honest here I’m not the guy she wants to spend the rest of her life with anyway.”

Yunho pressed ‘resume’, seemingly putting a stop to the conversation he wasn’t currently in the mood for. A conversation he purposely avoided every single time Mingi questioned his lack of action with the exact words of ‘put a ring on her finger, man'. And it was funny the first three times then it just became a walking reminder of why Yunho precisely didn’t do it. Having had enough of his friend's stupid antics, Mingi stood up and parked himself in front of the TV. Hands on his hips and bottom lip jutted out.

“That’s bullshit, Yun. I get being indecisive. Your last serious relationship was ages ago and it’s weird going from being single to taken in one night, but the thing about not being the one for her? Don’t be fucking stupid.”

Growing agitated himself, Yunho paused the game again and tossed the controller onto the sofa as he looked up at Mingi with tired eyes.

“Yeah, what good can I bring her? Tell me, Mingi. I’m nothing. My sleeping schedule is fucked and I work more than twelve hours a day for a minimum pay. If it weren’t for Yeosang’s parents I’d practically be living on the street. I eat take out for breakfast, lunch and dinner and have no college degree and probably won’t be getting one anytime soon. She’s educated, has a respectable job and lives a healthy life that won’t coax her into bad habits. She shouldn’t be associated with someone like me. It isn’t ideal for her to be with me, it’s not safe.”

“Oh my God, would you shut the fuck up?”

Yunho startled at the sudden raise in tone, not expecting Mingi to get so worked up over nothing.

“What does that even mean; too good for you? Yunho, dude, you’re the most selfless guy I know. You’re a kind, funny and quick witted gentleman who cares about those around you and always tries to make everyone smile, even if you’re going through shit yourself. So if you aren’t worthy of her then I should just stop looking for a partner all together! We are going to be rock stars, yeah, people look at us like we’re out of our mind or worship Satan, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of living like a human. And don’t even start with the homeless shit. I’d never let that happen…”

The little speech slapped Yunho across the face and only Mingi’s heaves of air resonated through the apartment. The two rarely got into arguments and while this conversation wouldn’t be jutted down as one, it still left Yunho at unease. Usually being the one to reprimand his friends, he didn’t know how to act while on the receiving end. Especially not when it was Mingi – the softie who took hours to eat a slice of bread and liked being called a princess – beating sense into him.

“It’s true she’s good for you, Yunho, and I doubt she’d stay around if you weren’t good for her either. She’s kind, not gullible.”

On the other side of town you sat before your vanity mirror and carefully applied make up. Yuqi sat on your bed, fingers hastily scrolling through social media apps and updating you about the recent gossip at her workplace.

“I can’t believe you’re not telling me anything about this mysterious man!” Yuqi exclaimed from your bed, legs in a pretzel position and fingers frozen mid air as she stared at the picture you airdropped her. “And the fact that I only now find out you’ve been seeing someone, that hurts you know!”

It wasn’t intentional. You knew if you told them a super cute and handsome man asked for your number, they’d rush right up to the counter and harass any guy who fit your description which, admittedly, only a few did. After the long night out you were all tipsy and too focused on getting everyone safely home that the handsome stranger was pushed to the back of your mind and forgotten until the next day when you woke up to a message from an unknown number.

Everyone was so caught up in their lives that you hadn’t thought of telling them about Yunho, then the whole rock star-identity was revealed and you certainly couldn’t tell them about him after that – already knowing what they thought about guys like that – not even your best friend who with just one glance knew something was different. Not necessarily bad, but just different. The outline of two massive hearts reflected in your eyes and you wore a smile so wide she thought you won the lottery, she didn’t stop to think the reason behind your gleeful expression could be because of a man. Not that you were an untouched woman, you had done a few things here and there, but because you were selective with your partners. So to hear you gave away your number and meet up with Yunho on multiple occasions piqued her interest.

“I told you it wasn’t on purpose! We were just both busy with work,” you pouted and applied mascara to your eyes.

“I know babes I’m just messing with you.”

Yuqi slumped back on your bed and tapped open your Instagram following list, quickly trying to find the guy you had been ‘unintentionally hiding’ from her.

“Are you like a thing now?”

“No or at least I don’t think so.”

Abandoning her search at your words, Yuqi put her phone down and stared at you through the mirror.

“What do you mean? Either you’re or you aren’t.”

“Well we haven’t really talked about that sort of stuff. When we go out we just let the conversation flow and I mean, it’s not like he’s explicitly asked me out on a date-date. And neither have I, for the record. We just go out for lunch or dinner, sometimes coffee, like we do with the girls.”

There was also the fact that he was going to be a rock-star who didn’t even have time to wipe his ass, let alone be in a relationship.

“Yeah, but I don’t invite you to my house and cook you an expensive dinner with expensive ass wine.”

“No, you’d rather tell me how you’d take me then and there if you weren’t painfully straight.”

She waved her hand in dismissal and pushed up to sit on her knees. “Guys don’t just do all those things if they aren’t interested, babes. You know that, you’ve dated a hundred guys before.”

“Yeah, but this is Yunho and not one of my previous dates. Maybe he just wants to be friends, like permanently.”

“You are insufferable. The guy likes you! I mean, you’ve already gone on a hundred mini-dates so this doesn’t come as that big of a surprise but why the hell would he ask you to dinner – only giving you the instructions to dress accordingly – on a Friday night if he absolutely wasn’t smitten with you?”

You sighed and closed the eyeshadow palette. In the softest voice possible you whispered out, “To get in my pants…”

“Oh, sweetie.”

Yuqi was up in seconds, throwing her arms gently around you and caressing the flesh of your biceps.

“Guys are douchebags and I can’t say for sure but what you’ve told me about Yunho, he doesn’t sound like the type to do that.”

“I know but then I start thinking about the what’s and the if’s and it all leads back to that one thing. It would be easier if he just said what he was thinking and feeling out loud.”

“Considering you guys haven’t talked about more serious things, you don’t know each other on that level. You don’t know what’s going through his head, if he’s been wronged before or is scared of commitment, bubs. Maybe he’s scared you don’t feel the same and is trying to play it safe, waiting for a sign that indicates you want more.”

Or maybe he was scared of what his bandmates would say, what their little group of fans would say. Maybe he wasn’t interested in girls like you at all, mayne he was drawn to the…flashier ones who were there for a good time and not a long one. A small sliver of you hung on the hope that it didn’t have to mean anything. That not all rock stars were up for that dirty and fast life.

“I baked him my specialty,” you pointed out, that alone was enough to tell him how you felt without vocalizing it.

“And I’m sure the brownies were delicious, bubs, but he doesn’t know they are reserved for special people, now does he?”

You shook your head and the frown that followed really didn’t suit your dolled up face. There was no time to sulk as Yunho would be arriving in roughly half an hour, but the thought of your intimate gesture flying over his head as friendliness set a bitter taste on your tongue. The thing you could think of to be more obvious was to decorate the dessert with swirls of chocolate reading out ‘I like you’ and while it would be a cute way to confess, you weren’t that confident.

“Enough sulking,” Yuqi suddenly declared and pulled you up by your wrists. “What are we wearing, huh? Are we going for something bold, something that will give poor Yunho a hard time keeping his thoughts in check or are we leaning for a more cutesy approach?”

By the way your lips curved up in a smirk, Yuqi knew exactly what you were going for.

The nerves danced across Yunho’s skin as he aligned the bike with the curb outside your apartment. He stole a quick glance up at your window and sighed. This would be the closest thing to a date and he wanted to impress you, so in good ol’ Yunho fashion he planned ahead. First he’d treat you to a tasty meal at one of the best restaurants in the city, dessert was a given so that would be the next stop and if the night didn’t turn too cold maybe he’d decide on a quick stroll across the Dongho Bridge, but not until he knew what the weather would be like, it was still late February. Otherwise a quick ride through town wasn’t a bad idea either but it left no space for the little things like hand holding, unless he wanted to jeopardize your safety.

Yunho sent you a short message, notifying his arrival and leaned against his motorcycle. There was a slight breeze in the air and the weather wasn’t too hot indicating the approaching end of winter, and Yunho wondered whether to scratch the promenade from his plans. Too caught up in his own mind he missed the apartment door swinging open as you sashayed out, head held high and purse in hand.

The click-clack of your boots snapped Yunho out of his daze and eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets at your appearance. The cutesy pastel colored clothes, bows and lace were replaced with something out of your usual wardrobe; a short black dress that clung to your body like a second skin. The hem made it to mid thigh and Yunho just knew it’d ride up even shorter when you’d sit down. The dress was backless and left your shoulders exposed while the front accentuated your chest. You looked hot and you’d be even hotter with his leather jacket on. Your designated heart necklace was still in place and you paired it off with small golden hoops. A pair of leather boots reached up to your knees, revealing a snippet of glowy skin (thanks to your body lotion).

“You look good,” you said and smiled, lips painted a deep red and Yunho imagined the trail of kisses it would leave on his neck.

Clearing his throat, he cast a look at his own attire and chuckled. He too was wearing something out of his usual closet. Instead of ripped jeans and a fishnet shirt, he borrowed one of Mingi’s old high school suits that still miraculously fit. He looked sharp and important, something Yunho wasn’t all that used to, but it balanced it out with his scarlet helmet and motorcycle.

“Well, I couldn’t let you take all of the spotlight, now could I?”

Dressed as a couple even the universe rooted for you to snap the translucents restraints of fear.

“Before I forget.” He snatched the single rose tucked neatly between the windshield and handlebars of the bike. “You are absolutely beautiful.”

Day met night as you reached for the flower, fingers brushing against Yunho’s. You smelled the red petals like the main girls do in movies but with a real smile that their fabricated ones would never reach. When Lord Byron claimed chivalry was dead he didn’t take count for men like Jeong Yunho. Men who bought their dates their favorite flowers after mentioning it one time in passing, men who gave up their jackets when a light breeze swiveled through town or men who never let their eyes wander from one diamond to another. While the acts were nothing of a grand gesture they still sent squeezes of affection straight to your heart. Taking it as a sign of the stars aligning and sending a normal guy your way for the first time in what seemed to be forever, you allowed yourself to relax and follow the stream.

“Right when I thought you slipped up.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

Like always Yunho helped you with the helmet and to get on the bike, and heat pooled beneath the skin of your cheeks as you huddled closer to him. Your legs were glued together and slung over one side of the motorcycle, and Yunho promised he’d drive slow so you wouldn’t fall off – as if that was ever going to happen – with the order that you hold on tight. The thrownless flower was in your hold as you reached around him. He patted your hand twice, the mute signal that he was starting the engine. Throughout the whole fifteen minute drive, Yunho refused to disclose the name of the restaurant, arguing it would ruin the suspense and feigned hurt when you said he hadn’t even planned anything. You couldn’t have been more wrong.

With your arm looped through Yunho’s, you approached a tall building that reminded you of a hotel and just the exterior had you gasping, fingers pressed to your lips. The outside was sculpted with details from ancient Greek architecture. Marble columns pushed out from the black walls as pediments marked the beginning of the second floor. The rest of the building changed hues from black marble to beautiful cream colored bricks full of golden rimmed windows and black balcony railings with swirls and fleur-de-lis. You walked the little path leading up to the double doors and suddenly the pavement underneath turned soft and drowned out the click-clack of your heels. The carpet underneath was a rich red and you were curious how they kept it nice and clean from rain and other mud. By the entrance stood an elderly man dressed in a neat costume, his white gloved hand already pushing down the golden doorknob at the sight of guests and greeted you with kind eyes.

Your whisper of Yunho’s name tugged at the corners of his lips and he wanted to tell you that there was more, keeping his excitement at bay he reached and patted the hand clutching his elbow. Allowing Yunho to guide you, he stopped at what seemed to be a reception where a young lady with a bright smile and red lips waited.

“Welcome to the Red Ruby.”

Completely lost in the details of the place, you didn’t bother tuning in on the brief exchange. The inside was even prettier, you came to realize. It was a small space not much bigger than your living room but probably held more worth than your whole apartment. A big chandelier hung in the center of the room that reflected against the black and white tiled floor. The left side sported a big entryway that led to a big dining area. Its primary colors ranged from red hues to matte gold. Further inside you made out a few tables draped over with long tablecloths and exquisite centerpieces bigger than your head. The chairs were big and soft to the eyes, made out of the finest velvet material you ever borne witness to.

“Thank you. We have a reservation under the name Jung Wooyoung.”

If you weren’t so mesmerized by the place, you’d give him a weird look and ask about this so-called Jung Wooyoung.

The lady scrolled through her tablet and smiled as she came to a halt. “Of course. The elevator will take you to the upper floor and my colleague will further assist you. Have a wonderful evening.”

“Thank you,” Yunho replied once again and gave you a soft tug, finally catching your attention.

“Are we not sitting there?” You nodded towards the majority of people who were happily dining and conversing in the red room.

“Not quite. Only specific people are allowed in the Red Ruby, besides those seats don’t require a reservation and it’s a lot more open than where we’re sitting.”

Specific people meaning celebrities, actors, important people. Not locals like yourself. The ding of the elevator cut the conversation short as the doors parted and for the second time in ten minutes, you gasped. Flashing lights of the outside world stared back at you through the windows stretching from the floor to the high ceilings. Blue and purple hues of the night sky blended with the fading orange color. As the sun was slowly setting, the moon made its appearance with smaller stars dashed across the dark blue canvas, shining brighter than any streetlight and airplane. The view resembled a watercolor painting and its beauty couldn’t even be captured with the most developed camera.

As promised, another worker – a man not older than yourself – waited by the doors wearing a maroon red suit that was adjusted to his precise measures, a towel thrown over his forearm and hair slicked back with gel.

“Reservation for Mr. Jung?” He asked and Yunho nodded. “Right this way. My name is Sieun and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

The second floor – what you soon came to realize was actually the twentieth – was a stark contrast from the dining area downstairs. The whole outerwall consisted of just windows with an overview of the heart of South Korea and the interior took on more of a modern design with black and white colored seats, marble tables and crystal chandeliers that did little to lighten the room. The floor was pipsqueak clean and you could even see your own reflection in the black tiles. Instead of flower bushes, literal trees popped out every now and then and you couldn’t figure out if they were real or manufactured. Mouth open and eyes wide you were at a loss for words as the waiter led you to a table further away from the other guests. Two menus bigger than your head laid neatly on the surface and the waiter left with a promise of someone coming back to take your orders.

“This is beautiful,” you exhaled, eyes glued to the lively city below.

“Right?” Yunho smiled, chest exploding with warmth and pride.

While you were occupied with watching the ant-like people and shimmering stars, Yunho stared at you as if the view outside wasn’t anything special. And it wasn’t, not with you sitting there looking breathtakingly beautiful.

“Personally, I prefer their food over any other restaurant. Their yakisoba is the closest thing I’ve tasted to what they have in Japan.”

“I have no doubt, their water probably tastes like heaven, too. I mean did you see that crystal fountain, in the middle of the room?”

Yunho chuckled at your words and it tore your eyes from the windows. “I can assure you their water is just normal tap water.”

As you opened your mouth, Sieun came back and the ten minutes of thinking were up.

“Are you ready to place your orders?”

“Yes, please.” Yunho closed his menu despite not taking a look inside. “We’ll take a full course dinner with your evening's specials, that way we can try a little bit of everything.”

“Of course, sir and in the meantime would you like anything to drink? If I may propose one of our finest wines, perhaps?”

Eyes on you, Yunho quirked a brow letting you decide. Picking up on the memo, you cleared your throat and agreed to the proposition. Sieun nodded and bowed politely before venturing back to the culinary side of the restaurant.

“This will cost you a fortune,” you sighed and fiddled with your fingers. “And I don’t know what you thought but by the looks of the interior, the food’s probably a month’s worth of salary, my salary.”

Yunho laughed at that. As if he’d ever let you near the bill, let alone split it.

“Don’t think about that, let's just enjoy it and I’ll deal with the rest.”

“Yunho,” you began, leaning forward and mustering up your biggest puppy eyes that he was quick to shut down.

“I know you’re worrying, but seriously don’t. It’s a favor I’ve asked of my friend so it won’t make a dent in my wallet. Besides I wanted to do this for you, okay. Something nice.”

“But why?”

The overwhelming feeling to reach over the table and place his palm over yours was stronger than anything pull he felt before, but he kept it glued to its current position and flashed a smile that made his cheeks pop and eyes crinkle.

“Because it’s what you deserve.”

Preparations for upcoming gigs and events were truly draining him. Practices started early in the morning, hours before the sun peeked over the horizon, and ended after the moon was high up in the sky. It left barely any time for the Blue Bird members to indulge in their own interests. Yunho wanted to spend as much time with you as but it was quite difficult as your schedules didn’t align, mainly because of his impractical working hours. Instead of going out for lunch or dining in grandiose places you couldn’t afford without giving up a kidney on the blackmarket, you opted for quick coffee breaks and late night drives to vacant places; the beach, some random hill with a great view of the city, a kids’ playground.

The clock was well past midnight and your eyes were surprisingly wide open, brain awake and ready to run laps around your apartment. How you’d survive the morning shift was beyond you, but with the faith that it wasn’t anything an extra spoon of sugar couldn’t fix, aimlessly continued counting each bump on your popcorn ceiling, willing the time to move faster for something – someone – to happen. Days off were spent alone in your apartment reading books to rid of your boredom but every once in a while you found yourself yearning for even the tiniest interactions with a certain puppy eyed man who also happened to be a future rock-star carrying a calendar with all three-hundred and sixty-five boxes marked. Maybe that’s why you didn’t hesitate at his sudden offer of going for a late night walk to buy slushies; his treat as the message read.

“I’m surprised you were still awake.” Was the first thing Yunho said as you ventured out of the apartment complex.

You pushed the black beanie further down on your head and by the creases around your eyes Yunho knew you were smiling hard beneath your white scarf. A breeze blew through the neighborhood and that white hoodie of yours looked to do little against the chilly night. Yunho pondered if he should wrap you up in his leather jacket or clasp your hand in his – if daring enough, maybe even braid your fingers together – and hide them in the pocket of the black material.

“What? I don’t always sleep early…”

The sprinkle of sulk to your words squeezed his heart affectionately and he imagined a little pout to your look, head free from his previously temping thoughts.

“No, but you never stay awake to see the clock change from PM to AM.”

“Hey!”

Yunho moved away as your arm swung in his direction. Chuckles bubbling out of him as he jogged ahead of your punches, they barely did any damage anyway but it was endearing to see you run after him.

“I’m kidding, kinda.”

“Where are we going anyway…Won’t your friends worry?”

“Not really, I mean even if they did it’s not like we’re doing anything illegal. We’re just getting some slushies.”

Your face scrunched together like you bit into something sour and lips set in a thin line. While you enjoyed Yunho’s company more than you wanted to admit for your own mental health, you also despised it. There was something so gut wrenching about not being able to hold his hand as you walked down the streets of Seoul or adjust his unruly strands of hair after a stronger gust of air messed it up. The worst thing about it all was that his future image was the last thing holding you back, it was the fact you weren’t anything but friends.

“So, what have you been up to today? How was work?”

“It was alright, a bit annoying with the pollen season having everyone act up and sneeze every five minutes but it’s nothing I’m not used to and the kids are cute so it evens it out. What about you, I thought practice wouldn’t be running later than eight?”

It wasn’t supposed to but in the last quarter someone suggested a change in the performance with an added solo, and the three hours of practice were done in vain as they had to re-learn the most important part. Yunho loved his members, his brothers, but they sure could get on his nerves at the most unexpected time. Safe to say the sudden change in Yunho’s demeanor had everyone on edge – despite him not trying to show it – and they were diligent in their learning. It still didn’t stop Hongjoong from having a talk, or a check-in as the leader liked to call it, with Yunho. After some brief but believable words of assurement he was off the hook like nothing. Yunho was lucky he roomed with Yeosang, their manager, and not with Hongjoong. The lead guitarist would never leave the apartment without the elder breathing down his neck. Yeosang was more laid back like that, keeping to himself but still indulging in Yunho’s interests every once in a while and simultaneously taking care of him in his manager role.

“Yeah, no, we had to change up the performance so we were running later than expected…It’s crazy that after all these years it still surprises me that practice doesn’t end on time.”

“I think that’s just wishful thinking, everyone has it Yuyu.”

“What’s your wishful thinking then, sunshine?”

“Well wouldn’t you like to know?”

A laugh skipped through the chilly march night. The smug words he once threw at you long before you knew who he was coming to bite him in the rear; cutie-pie style. Eventually the all too familiar corner store – in which you spent way too many mornings contemplating between choco-chips and strawberry pocky – came to view and the conversation dissolved. The young boy behind the counter paid you no mind, sleep evidently tugging at his eyelids as he barely kept upright in his chair. Working in tandem you separated like the branches of a tree, one pouring up the slushies and the other filling a basket with snacks.

Despite how much Yunho disliked seeing you reach for your wallet, he couldn’t do anything about it – as you argued it to be unfair if he paid for it all – and settled with a mental note lingering in the back of his mind to pay you back. Plastic bag in hand and card tucked back in your wallet, you slowly walked towards the exit.

“I’ll take a pack of red Marlboros, too.”

Out of all the facts about Yunho this was the most surprising one, followed right by him being in a rockband and never having watched Twilight. You stepped out in the open with Yunho close behind, the outline of the pack in his pocket and a slushie in each hand, one brown – seemingly coca cola flavored – and the other a pretty mix of blue and red.

“Thank you,” you murmured as he took the bag from you in exchange for the drink.

“Come on, let’s go somewhere away from the street.”

Yunho’s hand hovered over your lower back as you turned into a random street with different local restaurants and stores, all closed at this late hour much to your pleasure. The further you went, the fewer shops there were and more houses instead. The neighborhood was on an uphill path leading to the top of the mountain and soon a set of stairs popped out of the sleek pavement making it easier to venture by foot. To break the silence settled over you, Yunho first slurped on his slushie.

“Everything alright?”

The question worked as a needle breaking the layer of a balloon, bringing you out of the bubble you were stuck in.

“Hmmm, yeah I was just lost in my thoughts.”

“Are you tired? We can walk back home if you want.”

“No, no! I’m good, I promise.”

Yunho bobbed his head up and down, bag gently swinging from between his fingers and then put down on the ground beside his plastic cup.

“Okay, then at least take this.” Immediately you opened your mouth to say no, but Yunho wasn’t finished. “And I’m not taking a no for an answer.”

Your body was covered in a layer of warmth – the warmth of his jacket – and you gave him a small smile, a thank you for not letting you freeze to death even though that was impossible.

“Don’t get sick on me now, Yuyu. If you feel just the smallest tingle of a cold you tell me right away, okay.”

He pouted, “Why not? Won’t you come and take care of me then, hmmm? Some chicken soup to heal my tummy.”

The motion of his hand rubbing against his stomach had you giggling. The cheerful expression that made him fall pathetically in love with you was back and that was better than any jacket or hotpacket to keep him warm.

You trudged up the last flight of stairs and in front was a bus stop big enough for two, maybe three people if you could squeeze in on the tiny bench. The road wasn’t connected to the path and continued in two directions, one going further up the hill and the other leading down and around the neighborhood to what you assumed was the city. The bus stop was placed right on the curve of the road with a great view of Seoul. It wasn’t anything like looking out the windows of the Red Ruby, this was less hectic. Mountains nearly blended with the dark sky and the distant lights of cars and billboards twinkled light stars, you were sure if you walked a little bit more out of the city the real stars would prevail. It was much quieter here too, no chatter of people or overproduced vehicles making whirring noises.

You leaned your hand against the road barrier and smiled as the wind kissed your cheeks. Following your lead, Yunho did the same but with both hands and knees slightly bent as he put his whole weight against the metal fence. Turning your head to the left, you were once again taken back by his beauty. Features perfectly illuminated by the moonlight and jaw sharp as ever you couldn’t help but step back, snatch your phone up and tap open the camera icon.

“What are you doing?” Yunho asked, amused as he caught sight of your abrupt movements.

“Don’t move! Look out again, it’s great Instagram material and although I’m no professional photographer I think they’ll still turn out amazing. Just fix your hair a bit.”

Heat spreading to his cheeks, Yunho bashfully smiled and did as told. Looking through the rectangular phone screen you moved around a little, stepping closer and inching a bit to the left before completely freezing up in place. The perfect shot was in view and with a few instructions aimed at the unofficial model, you snapped a handful of photos. In some where Yunho looked mysteriously out, others where his gaze was locked in on the circular camera alternating between a relaxed expression and cheek-popping smiles.

“Look.”

You pushed the device in his hands and waited patiently for his reaction.

“Maybe I should buy you a camera,” he said more so to himself but it still drew a sharp gasp out of you.

“Don’t you dare!”

And all you got back was a teasing wink, telling you your words entered in one ear and out the other.

“Send these to me, would ya? It’s been a while since I posted something on Instagram.”

While you got busy airdropping him the pictures, Yunho frantically patted the front and back of his jeans, searching for something that was in the pocket of his coat.

Clearing his throat and gauging your reaction, he said, “Can you pass me the cigarettes?”

In all honesty, you forgot the packet was even in your possession. Digging around in the pockets – first the left and then the right – you passed him the packet along with a red lighter in silence mainly because there was nothing to be said.

“Does it…Will it– I mean…Ah.”

“You can go ahead and light one, it doesn’t disturb me if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh-okay. Wait, let me just.” In three quick strides he stepped around you. “Now the smoke won’t get in your face and clothes.”

You weren’t new to the smell or taste of tobacco. Having friends who smoked and even took a few puffs when offered, you quickly realized it wasn’t something to your liking. The taste was worse than any cup of black coffee and you’d opt for the caffeine filled drinks rather than those sticks. Despite that you couldn’t stop staring, almost as if mesmerized, as Yunho opened the sealed packet, tore out a cigarette with his teeth and lit it with a flick of the lighter. You definitely couldn’t stop staring when a whistle of smoke blew out from between his lips making him somehow more attractive than he already was.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t do it often, just when I’m stressed.”

He tapped the cigarette ash into his empty slushie cup and took another drag of the intoxicating stick. You watched it mix with the few droplets of blue water and replayed his answer.

“Are you stressed right now?”

Always the gentleman, Yunho blew out a cloudy stream of smoke in the opposite direction before looking at you.

“With you here? Not a chance.”

You could never find anything to hate about Yunho. He was funny, kind hearted, thoughtful, smart, handsome, everything, and yet you really disliked the way your heart fluttered at his cheesy lines that would fit right in a K-drama. Your face burned like the end of his cigarette and you forced yourself not to look away, cheeks hurting from your wide smile. With one last drag of his cigarette he extinguished it and let it fall in his cup. Eyes finding yours again he smiled goofily, tracing all crevices of your face, finding you as beautiful as the first time he saw you.

“I really, really want to kiss you right now.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, the blood practically boiling beneath your skin and fingers tightly clutching the long sleeves of his coat. Of all the days you spent with him, from the extravagant dates to domestic hangouts at your place, not once did you think your first shared kiss would be under the stars while dressed with minimum effort. Nonetheless you really wanted to kiss him too.

“What’s stopping you?”

The last string keeping Yunho from doing what he’s been dreaming of snapped and he quickly dropped everything in his hands to cup your face. Thumb gently caressed your cheek like he was molding clay into a beautiful piece of art, his palm rested against your jaw, fingers long enough to graze the back of your neck as the other hand fell to your waist, the touch burning through the thick layer of his coat. High on his touch, your own hands clasped around his wrist and neck in a poor attempt to ground yourself. The faint stench of tobacco reached your nose but it was quickly drowned out by his pleasant scent of rain-soaked earth and camp fire.

Gaze flickering between your eyes and lips, Yunho slowly inched closer, noses millimeters away from brushing. A light smirk crossed his features as you rose impatiently on your toes, quietly yet so loudly telling him to do it already. Right before you took matters into your own hands and nearly yanked him by the collar of his shirt, Yunho tilted his head and brushed his lips softly against yours, and they fit perfectly. The little squeeze he gave your waist sent shivers down your spine and cliche as it sounded, fireworks and confetti poppers exploded in your stomach. Eventually relaxing in each other’s embrace you worked your lips against his, parting them and allowing his tongue entry as you simultaneously stroked his wrist in a slow motion. Your fingers tangled in the hair at the back of his neck. The kiss was great with no tongue being shoved down the back of your throat or mouth vacuuming your whole face. All your senses were overtaken with Yunho, Yunho and Yunho.

It was sweet, gentle and soft – everything you hoped for – and then it was not. The aftertaste of his cigarette and coca cola slush rolled off his tongue and left quite a bitter tang on yours. It wasn’t strong, but it wasn’t pleasant either and you willed yourself not to pull away too soon yet that’s exactly what you did. Yunho, still lost in the daze of the kiss, chased after your mouth wanting to claim your lips again. Panicking, because on one hand you wanted to feel him on you again – the perfect curve of his lips massaging yours and noses brushing against each other – but on the other hand you also didn’t want to taste ash and smoke, and would rather kiss Yunho and not the remainder of his cigarette.

The soft call of his name brought him back to earth, ears painted that perfect shade of crimson clover and you probably weren’t looking any less flustered. Going from this confident guitarist with the world beneath his feet to an awkward man who still hugged his pillows to sleep, Yunho visibly deflated like a balloon.

“Did I do something wrong? Did–uh, did I make you uncomfortable?”

The whisper hit you square in the heart and you shook your head. There was no bone in your body that didn’t think kissing Yunho was perfect, in fact it was everything and more and you’d want to do it again but maybe with the taste of something sweeter like chocolate covered strawberries.

“No. Yunho, no, I promise. It was great, I liked it a lot actually–”

“But…? I’m sensing there’s a but coming.”

“But the taste– the cigarette taste isn’t that nice.”

Yunho licked his lips and surely there was an ashy sprinkle besides the faint flavor of strawberry that was you. He had never wanted to smash his head against concrete as much as then or go cliff diving without a parachute.

Winter surrendered to spring and days turned longer, and so did the time you spent with Yunho. The kiss you shared with the moon as your only witness was one of many, much to your delight, and ever since then it was as if you became inseparable. Late night drives turned into weekly hangouts at each other’s places (mostly at yours), hand holding was exchanged for cuddles on the couch – bodies pressed together and legs intertwined – the empty side of your wardrobe was suddenly full of large hoodies with prints of different bands and sweatpants, and your digital phonebook showed hundreds of calls to a ‘yuyu 🐶💘’ lasting up to hours. Nights together were always an adventure as Yunho watched you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, and then put you back together with those same limbs.

“Have you ever considered getting a tattoo or more piercings?” You asked one night as you laid bare in his bed, skin against skin and his blue blanket the only thing shielding you from the outside world.

It wasn’t the first time you imagined his body covered in ink or new shiny rings glistening in the moonlight and from his sole lip piercing, you knew you’d need a few days off work to recover if he were to get some more. Heat flooded your cheeks at the idea of Yunho sporting a full sleeve and the previously subdued ache between your legs slowly grew again. Most of Blue Bird had done some body art and were eager to do more. You knew Mingi’s body was prickled all over, from his face down to the tips of his fingers, and the man was always eager to do something more. Hongjoong and Seonghwa had a few tattoos here and there although Hongjoong’s was the crown holder of having the most piercings. Yunho was the one with least the altercations and if it weren’t for a dare back in his last year of high school, he probably wouldn’t have added anything.

“Yeah, whenever I accompany Mingi to a tattoo parlor and lemme tell you, that bastard really does a good job at persuading people.”

“But?”

“But I know I’ll change my mind in the future or probably regret getting it done and then I think of how it will look when I’m eighty and all wrinkly. Like imagine an eighty year old Mingi with a face tattoo…and I get that not everyone thinks that far or simply doesn’t care but I don’t know…It’s just weird to me. I like my skin bare.”

“I like your skin like this too,” you replied and kissed the spot beneath his collarbone. “I’ve always wanted a tattoo since I can remember.”

Not in a million years did Yunho expect to hear that. Caught so off guard, he leaned back on his forearms to get a better view of you.

“Really?”

“Yep. My parents blame it on my uncle. He was like eighteen, I think, when he got his first tattoo – without grandma’s approval of course – and I was the only one who knew. I could barely speak back then so I guess he didn’t think it would matter if I saw it or not. Well, no one could explain the sharpie-drawn cat on my forearms that they definitely weren’t allowed to wash away or I’d throw a tantrum. Long story short, I accidentally rated him out to my grandma when he was sleeping, pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and everything so yeah.”

You chuckled at the fond memory and Yunho fought the urge to kiss you until he was on the brink of passing out.

“What would you get done then?”

“I don’t know, I’m really indecisive but I’m thinking of a back tattoo, you know those that go along your spine?”

For being someone opposed to getting tattoos, Yunho nearly took note from Mingi’s 101 guide of persuasion and got down on his knees. A back tattoo – any tattoo really – on you would have him barking like a dog and living up to the name of being a golden retriever and he felt no shame about it.

“Th–at would look good on you,” he coughed.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like that perv.”

Yunho poked you in the side and you immediately curled up on yourself which only made matters worse as you moved closer to him.

“Stop! I’m sorry,” you said between giggles and he immediately ceased his advances.

“That’s what I thought, now up. Gotta give you a bath.”

The gentleman he was, took care of you in many ways besides worshiping between your legs. Always attentive and vocal about your needs, he made sure you were comfortable even while you floated between consciousness and dreamland.

“Nooo! I’m tired.”

The grip around him tightened but with legs like jello and your brain only recently coming back from the post orgasm haze, Yunho could have you in the bathtub in seconds. You nuzzled against his chest and blinked slowly while asserting your thoughts. As dizzying as your vanilla perfume was to him, Yunho’s scent of burning wood was completely intoxicating and it nearly lulled you to sleep if it weren’t for his fingers caressing the back of your neck. How he got you to pee was a mystery of its own.

“Okay, a few more minutes but I’m getting you in that shower either way.”

“Thank you, Yuyu!”

He earned a kiss to the apple of his cheek and triumph fluttered through your veins at his red tinted ears. It was funny how he was more flustered over an innocent peck than staring straight at your wet core. Yunho felt the smugness radiate off you in waves and quickly redirected the attention elsewhere.

“Have you always wanted to be a preschool teacher?”

“No,” you started and softly ghosted your fingers on the spot beneath his peck, a trail of goosebumps trailed after your touch. “It’s silly, but I wanted to be a cat shop cashier.”

“A cat shop cashier?”

Yunho craned his neck and if you weren’t so tired you’d laugh at his frozen expression. Instead you mustered up a hum and drew an invisible cat on his body, much like the one from your childhood days.

“I warned you it sounded silly.”

“I’m not judging you, I’m just…what is that?”

“A girl who sells things with cats on them,” you said like it was as clear as the sky being blue and the grass green.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t have the money for it. A shop doesn’t just fall from the sky, you know? Plus my parents weren’t, I wouldn't say they were against it but they were worried I’d end up on the streets or something so I did the next best thing and studied hard, enrolled in college and now I’m waving bye to kids wearing backpacks with dogs on them.”

Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around you and squished you closer against him, and leaned down to press a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. Hearing about your cat-shop-dream not even having the chance of leaving the four walls of your childhood bedroom really struck a chord in him. If it was someone who understood how it felt to not have anyone in their corner, it would be Yunho. With a five dollar bill, a guitar case and a poor impression of Spongebob he took the first train to Seoul to pursue his dreams and while he wasn’t exactly famous, he wasn’t whatever his parents thought he’d be.

“But it all played out in the end,” you finally said and closed your eyes.

“How come?”

“Because I found something better.”

One of the many Spiderman movies played on the TV in your living room. It was Yunho’s idea to have a movie marathon over the weekend and you were currently watching the second movie starring Tobey Magiure. Snacks and soft drinks littered the table, but you weren’t craving them as much as Yunho’s touch. Laying in his embrace, back against his clothed chest and one arm thrown over your waist, you wondered if the movies were an excuse to get cozy with you.

Throwing a quick glance at the digital clock in the corner of the tv screen you realized it was nearing midnight and you could feel the sleep sneaking up on you. It was gradually becoming harder to keep your eyes open and just when you were about to succumb to dreamland an electric like jolt shocked you awake. The hem of your shirt had risen through the night and Yunho’s fingers found comfort on the exposed skin of your tummy. His hand flew from you as if being burned by a hot stove.

“I’m sorry, was that too much?”

You shook your head and smiled at the instinctual worry. There was something so attractive about his attentive side. You were one month into…whatever this labeless thing you were having and not once did he make you feel uncomfortable. He always checked in on you, made sure you were on the same level and asked for permission about the smallest of things but it was appreciated, nonetheless.

“No, it was just unexpected…but not unwanted.”

You steered his hand back over your stomach and fought the shiver wanting to glide down your back. Despite their humongous size, his fingertips were soft and gentle, and the warmth of his touch sent goosebumps trailing along your skin. Face burning and heart doing somersaults, you nuzzled against his bicep taking on the task of a pillow under your head. Pushing yourself, you pressed a chaste kiss to the muscle and glued your attention back to the movie, refusing to meet his eyes. In that moment Yunho swore he could feel his heart jump in his throat and he didn’t even need to touch his ears to know they were burning red.

You had gotten quite intimate with each other. Never being able to finish a movie without locking lips or being in the same room for more than five minutes without one hand straying to the other. Not to say Yunho wasn’t affected by your sudden displays of affection – because he was – yet those small innocent acts did far worse things to Yunho’s well being than anything else.

“Who’s your favorite Spiderman?” You asked to distract him from what the hell you just did.

The lack of answer didn’t go unnoticed and as you turned your head sideways, lips parted and ready to ask again, your breath hitched in your throat at his half lidded eyes drinking you up. They were blown out with lust and desire, a look you’d gotten familiar with.

“Yuyu–”

“I want you so badly,” he said, voice low and soft that you simply couldn’t deny him.

You also couldn’t fight the fact that you wanted him equally as much. Saying nothing you pressed your lips against his and he was quick to set the pace, starting gentle and then turning needy and sloppy with tongues rolling against each other. Consumed by the heat of the moment, Yunho grabbed your hips and perched you on his lap while he simultaneously sat up against the sofa. Like two puzzle pieces completing each other you slid your hands to the back of his neck and played with the hair on his nape. The movie was long forgotten and all the sound effects were drowned out by the muffled whines and moans filling the apartment.

“Yunho,” you panted and rolled your hips against his.

In return his hands roamed the sides of your body, squeezing at every curve and dip, and smirked at your beautiful noises. His every kiss and grope of flesh was driving you crazy and you were seconds away from begging for his fingers, mouth, cock. Whatever he wanted to do, you’d let him.

Breaking apart for air, Yunho didn’t stop showering you with affection and peppered kisses from your jaw down to your neck that you oh-so generously exposed by tilting your head sideways. Sucking, nipping and licking, he gave you no rest and awakened a needy pulse between your legs. Your breathy moans grew louder and shot straight to his groin and he had to physically restrain himself from bucking up against you. Thighs so thin you could feel the hard tent in his sweats that also did barely anything to cover his length. Wanting something else to occupy your hands, you slid them down his shoulders and chest, and with burning cheeks you sneaked them under his shirt exploring the muscles over his stomach. You traced each and every outline with feather-like touches that sent his stomach contracting and a deep groan reaching your ears. Your ego rocketed at the bodily reaction and quickly faltered as licked over the spot right between your jaw and ear, earning himself another breathy moan,

“Yunho, please.”

“Please, what?”

You could feel his devilish smirk against your skin. To coax you into speaking, he did it again followed by the graze of his teeth.

“Need yuh, please.”

“What, darling? What do you need?”

You whined as he continued the assault on your neck, covering it in beautiful love bites, and all you did in return was grind against his cock trying to find some relief to your aching cunt.

“Want me here?”

He flicked his thumb over your covered left boob and a sharp sensation shot from your cunt to your breast like lightning. The sudden change of atmosphere left you more courageous than usual. Grabbing the hem of your shirt you tore the material off yourself and left Yunho stunned. Despite not being completely nude, he’d be damned if he didn’t appreciate you like the art you were.

“You’re beautiful,” he said and traced the edge of your bra cups.

Not expecting the night to take a drastic turn, you didn’t think to wear anything nice but a set of black underwear.

“May I?”

He reached around your body to the clasp holding your bra together. High on love, you nodded with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth. His fingers grazed the skin on your back and left exploding tingles in his wake. With your consent he unclasped the top and cupped your breasts in his hands, giving them light squeezes that had you arching your back in response, pushing more into his touch.

“You’re perfect,” Yunho whispered and hovered his thumbs over the hardened nipples. “I wonder if they taste as sweet as they look.”

He breathed hot air over them making you squirm more in his lap and looking up, he was meet with your fucked out gaze – eyes barely open, lips swollen and shiny from his spit – and he was yet to even touch you properly. Easing you into it, he pressed a chaste kiss to your breastbone before latching around your left nub and sucking hard. Your hands flew up around his hair, pressing his head further into your chest. Yunho then released and blew gently on your puckered nipple.

“Mo-h, more!”

“I haven’t even touched you, baby, and you’re already whining? Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Yes! Yes, I can handle it, I’ll be so good, just pleas–”

Wasting no time, Yunho wrapped his lips around the other boob, giving it an equal amount of attention. His tongue drew circles around it, making it shiny just how he liked it and then sucked again. It was messy and nasty but felt so good. Your brain was already short circuiting and hips moved on their own, practically humping his hardened dick that stood proudly against the gray fabric. The thought of his cock – large and thick – had you soaking through your panties and you wondered how he’d make it fit. Would he use his long, nimble fingers or his tongue?

A lewd image of you laying in bed on your stomach with Yunho behind, dick aligned with your wet pussy, popped in your mind. Him groaning in your ear from how hard your pussy clenched around his cock and you moaning from the delicious stretch that came with every thrust, reaching deep into you. That alone could make you come right on the spo–

A sharp ring cut through your sinful thoughts, but Yunho kept sucking on your tits. In your dazed state he even shifted to the other one, saying something about taking care of his girls as he pinched the wet nub between his thumb and index fingers, squeezing and rolling it until you were left breathless.

“Yun-ah! Yunho! The phone,” you whined out.

“Ignore it,” he growled and kissed your neck again, hands coming down to squeeze your ass.

The feel of his large hands on your backside quickened the pace of your moving hips. You almost obeyed his order as the phone stopped buzzing only for it to pick up again. Finding the light in your hazed mind you put the intimacy on pause. Hands pushing at his shoulders until he complied and leaned against the sofa.

“It may be important. What if it’s one of the guys?”

Your words were distant as his eyes were locked on your chest dripping and bruised from his work.

“Yunho!”

“Wha– I’m listening!”

“Answer the phone, you weirdo.”

Standing up on wobbly legs you nearly toppled over and you would, hadn’t Yunho caught you by your hips. The ‘thanks’ died in your throat at the sight of his stiff cock. It wasn’t the first time he got hard from a make out session and it probably wouldn’t be the last either. You quickly put the shirt back on while he awkwardly grabbed his phone.

“Don’t cover up just yet, doll, I’m not done with you.” He answered the call with a, “This better be important.”

And it was judging by the way his jaw unclenched and eyes widened.

“Finally! Where the hell have you been?!” You could make out the faint and distressed voice of Yeosang. “We’ve been trying to reach you for a while now, we need a group meeting.”

“Group meeting? For what?”

Panic rose in a sickening surge as you listened to the one sided conversation.

“That’s the thing. I can’t say over phone so get your ass to Hongjoong’s.”

“Is everything alright?” You whispered from beside him.

“I’ll be there, just give me a few.”

The call ended and Yunho stuffed the phone in his back pocket.

“Yeah, or at least I think so? Yeosang called for a meeting but didn’t say why...”

A mischievous smirk tugged at your lips as you took his hand in yours.

“Well then, pretty boy. I say you get over there and hurry back to me.”

The wiggle of your brows had you both bursting out in laughter and Yunho closed the distance between you once again.

Of all the things Yunho could expect the meeting to be about, he never imagined it to change the trajectory of his life. In less than twenty four hours Blue Bird would be signing a record deal with one of – if not the – biggest music companies in Seoul. Their teenage dreams of making music and performing in front of thousands would come true and Yunho couldn’t be happier. The one thing he was praying for, despite not feeding into his parents’ religion, came to life and in that moment he cursed himself for not sharing the same joy as his bandmates. Because all Yunho could think about was what that meant for you.

“We have to celebrate,” shouted Mingi and slung one arm over Yunho’s shoulders.

Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yeosang jumped in tow, all sporting wide grins and even tears shining in their eyes.

“I’ll call Wooyoungie and see if he wants to come,” replied Yeosang as he left for the kitchen.

“We should see if he’s up for designing us some clothes. It would give us more exposure for sure.”

Seonghwa clapped his hands together and immediately imagined the crazy clothes he’d have on stage. He’s always wanted to try corsets and heels, and pretty skirts and with Wooyoung’s magic he’d definitely not be disappointed.

“I’m bringing out the champagne!”

Yunho watched Hongjoong run after Yeosang, his platinum hair shining in the dim light, and slumped back against the couch. It was weird. He’s been dreaming of this opportunity ever since he was introduced to KISS back in middle school (secretly of course, God forbid his parents heard what their eldest son was listening to) but he couldn’t shake away the bittersweet feeling festering in his stomach. A rough shove against his side snapped him out of his dazed thoughts.

“You good?”

Mingi, always the observant one, noticed the flicker of sadness in Yunho’s eyes. The taller of the two nodded despite feeling his dinner climbing its way back out.

“Yeah, it’s just…crazy.”

“Tell me about it, but hey we’re just getting started. A whole new life’s waiting on us. Girls, money, fame, everything we’ve dreamed of, Yunho.”

For once, Yunho’s dreams of a fast and luxurious life with expensive bikes, clothes and VIP parties lasting until the early hours of the morning changed into something quiet and humble; an apartment big enough for two and a dog lingering between his legs as he laid in bed with you in his arms. His dream of swimming in money burst as a new cloud came to mind. A dream of a girl who brought out the best in him with her kind words and soft touches of affection. His own thoughts were taunting him just like his relatives did back in Gwangju – about the dream he’d never achieve – and unlike then he was starting to believe it.

That night Yunho didn’t allow himself to sleep. His mind tortured him with flashbacks of all the times the universe sent him signs that you were two stars on completely different sides of the galaxy. Yunho couldn’t light a cigarette without seeing your scrunched up face or drink a cup of coffee and not imagine your downturned lips and tongue sticking out in disgust. At the same time, he avoided anything and everything sweet as it worked as a reminder of the very person he deprived himself of.

After tossing and turning for the most part of the night, you woke up to the sound of heavy rain splattering against the windows of your bedroom. You couldn’t shake away the inkling feeling that it wouldn’t be the best day of your week, and considering last night’s scare you insisted your worry wasn’t unjustified. The time on your phone showed you still had a few hours before your alarm would go off for work. You wondered what Yunho was doing and what the meeting was about. There were no messages or calls from him, which wasn’t that unusual, but you were used to good morning texts and an array of different emojis.

Willing yourself not to think much of it, you made yourself a cup of coffee and clocked into work earlier than scheduled. You couldn’t stop thinking about Yunho and decided to send him a quick message despite the moral part of your inner-self telling you not to. The following embarrassment was locked in your work cabinet with all your belongings and worrisome thoughts. For the next eight hours you busied yourself with work; playing with the kids, serving them food, changing diapers, putting them to sleep. You moved on autopilot and didn’t, not once, think of a certain tall boy who could play the guitar blindfolded.

The clock struck five PM and you kept your dignity in mind as you refrained from bolting down the hallway. The last group of kids had just been picked up and you made a beeline for the locker room.

You [06:05 AM] Good morning 🌷how’d the meeting go? Delivered

The message was left unread and the delivered status was exceptionally bright. You couldn’t shake away the thought that something wasn't right, but you didn’t want to overwhelm Yunho as you still didn’t know what the meeting was about. You’d be damned if it turned out to be something bad. The last thing he needed was a girl pestering him about it. Doing what you did best, you put on a smile and went back home, but not before stopping by a bakery for some strawberry pastries with the hopes of sweetening up your gloomy afternoon.

The red bike you were very accustomed to stood parked outside your apartment building but its owner was nowhere in sight and your phone was still void of notifications. It could only mean one thing. You raced up the flight of stairs and lo and behold there he was; sitting on the stair outside your door with a lighter twirling between his thumb and index finger. He looked nothing like the Yunho you knew. His face was bare and lacked the usual dark makeup smudged on his skin, and he only wore a gray hoodie and sweatpants while his fingers were void of silver bands and whatnots. He still looked handsome as ever though.

“Yuyu!”

You jumped in his arms and he grabbed onto the railing not to fall backwards. Your body slotted perfectly against his and your breath tickled his neck. Yunho had one arm around your waist and the other moved to cup the back of your neck. He inhaled your vanilla perfume and tried engraving in his mind.

“I thought I recognized your ride. What are you doing here?”

“Just needed to see you,” he replied as you moved to unlock the door.

His hand itched to reach for yours. To have you tucked under his arm or back glued to his chest, elbows or knees touching, anything really. He just needed the feel of your touch.

“Ah, you had me worried! I mean I’m happy to see you, but you didn’t reply to my text this morning and seeing the bike I really thought something happened.”

A forced laugh made its way past his lips and he was quick to pat your head.

“You always worry about me, don’t you?”

His hand slid down to your jaw and thumb caressed your chin, grazing your bottom lip.

“I’m sorry. I forgot my phone at Hongjoong’s and he’s still at work so I couldn’t get it. Was it something important?”

“You’ll drive me into an early grave, Jeong Yunho.”

“Yah, don’t say that!”

Yunho nearly ascended like a helium balloon at the sound of your laughter. The Heaven’s gate came to view as you blessed him with that bright smile of yours. Teasingly you got closer to him so your breaths mingled in the air.

“Who will be the death of who now?”

The question was soft and came out in a hushed whisper, and if you weren’t a pinky away from him you’d completely miss it. Yunho gazed into your eyes and you had never felt so seen before. He looked at you as if you had the world in your palms and he was ready to risk it all. A bit flustered under his loving stare, you tried reflecting his attention elsewhere.

“How’d the meeting go?”

The moment the words left your mouth Yunho visibly sagged and his lips pursed into a tight line. You tried finding an answer in his suddenly softened eyes but all you could see in them was sadness. Yunho cleared his throat and widened the distance between you as if it would lighten the blow of his news.

“So…Blue Bird is signing a record deal with Brother Choi Industries…”

“Oh my God! Yunho, that's great!”

Yunho caught you in the air. Your arms and legs wrapped around him and your cheek squished against his. The happiness surged out of you like rays of the sun and instead of warming him up, it pierced his body to the core. You planted a quick kiss to his cheek that left a prickling feeling after and then you were down again, feet meeting the floor.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?! We have to celebrate! C’mon, we’ll do whatever, it’s on me.”

Fingers latched around his wrist and the purse with all your belongings thrown over your shoulder, you headed for the door again but Yunho didn’t budge. Like an oak rooted to the ground, he stood in place and it dawned on you that he didn’t match your excitement.

“Can’t we just, I don’t know, stay inside? Watch a movie or something…”

“Yeah– yeah, of course,” you whispered and led him to the living room. “Put on whatever and I’ll bring some snacks.”

You couldn’t help but worry. News like that usually called for drinks or a nice dinner with one's friends or family. The thoughts of what could have happened were endless and did nothing to soothe the growing ball of anxiety in your abdomen. Patient as always you didn’t push further on the matter and just gathered whatever snacks you had in your cupboards (oreos and a half-empty packet of chips). Your eyes traveled the length of Yunho’s body stretched out on the sofa and then shifted to the TV.

“Bluey?”

“I like the gentle-parenting,” Yunho whispered and you nearly turned into a puddle on the spot.

“It’s a good show. I give it five stars and the preschool teacher approval stamp.”

As you laid down everything on the table, Yunho raised one arm in the air, a silent request for you to make yourself at home in his hold. Head on his chest, you could hear the rhythmic beat of his heart and the warmth seeping through his thick clothes. His hands were intertwined on your lower back, occasionally rubbing his thumbs over the fabric which would have any cat purring in seconds. Your left arm was squished against the sofa while the other played with one of the strings on his hoodie.

The series of colorful dogs wasn’t new to you as almost the entirety of the kids at the preschool had some kind of product with the cartoon characters splayed on, whether it be a backpack, water bottle or bandaids. It was either that or Paw Patrol, and personally speaking you preferred the Australian doggos.

For a good hour or two Yunho just laid there with his eyes glued to the animated show but mind running laps. He didn’t reach for any of the goods on the table or excused himself for a pee-break he so desperately needed because he knew the moment he moved, you’d look at him with pleading eyes and ask what’s on his mind. And although he’d been camping outside your apartment for three hours, he still couldn't find the right words to tell you what’s been bugging him since Yeosang’s revelation. He wasn’t there to tell you about the stupid record deal or how he forgot his phone (it was in his back pocket). Yunho came to break things up, something he knew was inevitable since the first night he laid eyes on you.

“Yuyu,” you whispered and poked his cheek, trying to get his attention.

The guitarist was there physically but where he had gone mentally was a mystery and you noticed it early on when he didn’t mention anything about Bandit playing the toy drum set.

“Hmm?”

He blinked back to reality and turned to face you who had changed position to lay flat on him, chin perched on top of your hand and pouty lips.

“Your heartbeat’s really loud. Is everything okay?”

Nothing about this was okay.

It wasn’t okay that your bodies fit like puzzle pieces. It wasn’t okay that you were great together despite your contrasting looks. It wasn’t okay that the girl of his dreams was the polar opposite of himself.

“I’m just thinking…a lot.”

“About the record label?”

Fuck the record label, is what Yunho wanted to say. It was the last thing on his mind, right below his parents and every other person who had their doubts about him. The real words lingered on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be spoken out in the open and he nearly swallowed them back down, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie, not when you looked at him with worry written all over your features.

“About…you. About us.”

“What about us?”

Your voice came out higher at the end and he knew the question you were thinking of was something completely different than what he was about to say, and it hurt so much.

“It's just not…I don’t think we’re that good of a match.”

He caught the moment your world came crashing down. How the light of worry turned into confusion.

“What?”

“We shouldn’t keep doing this.”

By that point you both sat back up on your knees and hands on your thighs, while he moved so his legs were drawn up to his chest.

“I don’t understand. I thought you liked me...”

“I do, but it’s not– I’m…sorry.��

This was all too much for you and you were torn between lashing out in anger or hearing him out. Your heart pounded against your chest and you could feel it crack from the pressure of his confession. As if that wasn’t enough a stinging sensation burned behind your eyes.

“Why didn’t you say anything from the start then? If you never wanted this to happen, why’d you kiss me in the first place or take me out on dates? We’ve been tiptoeing between friends and something more for the past six months and suddenly we can’t be either?!”

The desperation dripping from your words was clear as a summer’s sky and while you tried to prove a point, Yunho wasn’t having any of it.

“It felt right in the moment, but the more time we spent together I realized that we’re too different, it just won’t work–"

You were quick to follow up. Tongue sharp and fire behind your words, they were nothing like the sweet scent of strawberries and roses he was used to. Yunho had never seen you so upset.

“This has nothing to do with our differences, Yunho! We are great together and we’ve proven it countless times. There’s something deeper than that, something you’re not telling me and I don’t know why. What have I done to ruin your trust in me?”

A beat of silence passed. The apartment was completely quiet and you wondered if the neighbors were listening in on the argument, and if they did then what a great first impression Yunho was leaving them with.

“I’m afraid I’ll ruin you,” he whispered, lips in a pout and eyes glistening like an ocean’s reflection of a night sky.

As if a pair of invisible hands, the words plunged into your chest and forcefully grabbed at your heart only to tear out the poor beating organ and throw it across the ground. To think Yunho saw himself as a problem – as a stain in your life – that he was depriving him (and you) of something beautiful, it fucking hurt.

“Don’t do that. That’s not fair, Yunho. You’d never ruin me, do you understand? This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time and I need you to know it.”

“It’s not going to work. You’re too good and I’m– you’re, I’m bad for you.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me! It’s not like I’ve never touched a cigar before in my life, or tried strong liquor or, I don’t know, had flings here and there! You’re talking as if you’re a drug lord or something. You’re just a– a– an upcoming rockstar! With an ambition that takes up a lot of your time and who occasionally smokes and drinks to de-stress. Don’t think I’m some saint you’re going to corrupt because I’m far from it, Yunho.”

Silence.

While Yunho knew everything you said to be true, it didn’t fit the image he created of you and he could only fault himself for it. You noticed his eyes wandered around, jumping from furniture to furniture, all to avoid yours. So with shaky hands you gently – like he was a baby chick – cradled his chin and turned him towards you.

“I want you, so why won’t you let me have you?”

The crack in your voice confirmed his stupid theory of being bad for you. It was better this way, but goddammit did he want to wrap you up in his embrace and kiss the top of your head and whisper soothing things in your ear. To say ‘I’m not going nowhere’ and ‘I’m sorry’ a thousand times over until the damage would glue itself back together. He wanted to be the one giving you strength and not stack rocks upon rocks on your shoulders.

“It’s not just about that. I’m going to be a…rockstar soon. The fans, some of them are going to be nice, but not all will wish the best for us. If something were to come out about us, they’d leave you restless. I’ve seen it happen to others and I don’t want you to suffer that same path.”

And if you could see through his lies, you mentioned nothing of it.

“That’s not your decision to make and you know it! I like you and you obviously like me, nothing else matters besides that, please, listen to me. Yunho, I don’t care about anything else but you.”

He nuzzled against your palm and leaned closer until his forehead rested against yours. He wanted to remind you of your agreement, to call him Yuyu and only that, but it was a privilege he wasn’t granted anymore. You squeezed your eyes shut, not bearing to see his wet cheek, but even that didn’t stop your own tears. You felt the soft pad of his thumb wipe away the streams of salty water flowing down your skin and you didn’t know what was worse. That he was the reason behind them or that it was the first and last time he’d ever wipe tears from your face again.

“You’re gonna have a good life without me, you’re gonna grow and go places. You’re gonna get that cat lady shop and be the best cat shop cashier the world has ever seem, and you’ll meet someone way better than me–”

“But I want you!”

“You’re gonna forget about me and find someone deserving of you. Someone that can shower you with unconditional love.”

“Then be that someone. Get better, do better and stop trying to ruin this thing we have!”

“And I want you to stay just as you are. Okay? Gentle and loving and sweet. This world doesn’t deserve you and neither do I, but you deserve someone, yeah, sweet pea?”

Yunho’s voice cracked and you quickly dragged him into a bone crushing hug. He hid in the crook of your neck, arms going around you in a tight grip as if you’d disappear the second he let go. In the safety of your arms he let down his guard and the loud cries that followed prickled your skin just as much as yours clawed at his heart. You stayed in each other’s hold and drew soothing shapes on each other’s backs as you cried your hearts out.

Your arms were numb and your body refused to produce more tears to cry, but even then you didn’t budge. You knew if you let go Yunho would take it as his cue to leave and you couldn’t bear that just how you couldn’t stop whimpering as he pressed soft kisses to your temple or whispered apologies in your ear.

“I have to go,” he eventually whispered and your heart – that you were still picking up the pieces of – broke all over again, sending shards of blood and tissue everywhere.

Your hold tightened and he truly felt evil as he broke out of your grip and got a good look at your swollen face.

“I’m so sorry, sweet pea.”

“Pluh-please, don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Kiss me, then,” you wailed. “If you can’t stay, just kiss me one last time.”

Never one to deny your wishes he slotted his lips against your and tasted the mix of your salty tears. Your fingers curled painfully in his cheeks and the hold he had on your waist was sure to leave bitter bruises in the morning. Yunho poured every ounce of affection, his heart and soul – his everything – into the kiss. It was something he’d never done before but he needed you to know that while you maybe hadn’t reached the stage of love just yet, his adoration of fondness was never fake. Whatever feeling he had for you that was the closest to love, it was never fake.

Teary eyes stared into each other as you parted, breaths heavy and lungs ready to burst through your chest. He gave you one last peck on the cheek and broke free from your grip, and like the broken record left in his childhood bedroom, he repeated the useless apologetic words until they lost all their meaning. Your muffled cries shot straight to his heart and he could feel it crack with each step taken further away from you

As Yunho passed the threshold of your apartment for the last time, he kept telling himself that it was for the best. Your undeserving love would just be ruined in the palms of his hands and he had to leave before it became something he was too afraid to let go off. He had to leave even if meant snapping free from the vines you barely managed to twine around his limbs. It would be sharp and quick and hurt like a paper cut but with no permanent scars.

The more he lingered around you, the deeper and tighter the roots went and more sweetpeas would grow and wrap around his body, and fill him with a love and warmth that was impossible to flee. And when the seasonal change began and all the birds fled somewhere warmer, he’d have no choice but to forcefully cut the vines curled around him and hurt you beyond repair. That wasn’t something Yunho could ever see himself do and before it turned into a cloying love, he’d save you both the hurt and pain, and just leave. You’d eventually grow your sweetpeas somewhere else.

Because in the end, you were all too sweet for him.

Author's note pt.2: I've read a lot of different interpretations of the song and I wanted to share my (if you haven't kind of already grasped it). While reading the lyrics, I understood that person A doesn't believe they are worthy of person B because of their different life styles and nature. In short, they are complete opposites. While that can be good (opposites attract) person A doesn't see it that way. They know right from the start that they aren't destined to be (the reasons to this are endless) yet they still try to pursue a relationship with person B until something tells them "this isn't right". Now being polar opposites, Person B thinks that person A is the one for them despite their differences. As mentioned, I know there are a lot of different opinions of what the actual meaning of the song is and I can totally get behind those too, but this was my first interpretation and what kick-started this whole oneshot.

Disclaimer For this fic, I didn't want to make it into an experienced x inexperienced trope. Mainly because a lot of people associate innocence with dressing/acting cutesy which I believe isn't valid. People can still like pastel colors, cute trinkets, dress cute and still be experienced (with sex, smoking, drinking, tattoos, piercings, etc). I think it gives a little more depth to the story by not making the MC new to all that, but I'm not trying to spread shame on those who are inexperienced as there's absolutely nothing wrong with it!!!

Also it's my first time ever writing something close to smut and it was so hard! I can't stress it enough 😭 I'll have to practice it way more before even attempting the real deal lmao. While we're at it, it's also my first time writing for Yunho so I hope I brought him justice!

If you've made it this far I just wanna thank you for reading (everything) and I hope you've enjoyed ❤️

#[🐶] HONGJOONGSPOETRY #jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho scenarios #jeong yunho oneshot #jeong yunho fanfic #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshot #ateez songfic #kpop x reader #songfic #hozier #too sweet hozier #fluff #angst #rockstar au

175 notes · View notes

bunny584 · 16 hours

Text

For I Have Sinned

“Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave.” Songs of Solomon 8:6-7.

As newly appointed Duchess-To-Be, you have much to learn. Etiquette, conduct and eventual motherhood are the pillars you are expected to live by. Because who cares about your choosing?

The Chapel, tended to by a mercurial Priest, is the perfect refuge.

…right?

Pairing: Geto x female reader

A/N: The is dedicated to the artist ( @captainsalsaa ) I mean look at our fallen Angel. His tears. His frustration. Dear GOD.

To the artist: I stared at your piece, then heard a specific song on my writing playlist then wrote the entire last scene in one sitting. To date, it’s my favorite scene in my author’s portfolio. I hope I did our fallen Angel justice. Thank you for creating this 🤍

Chapter I

CHAPTER II: Hello, Father.

“Awake early, little dove.”

Warm hands caress your shoulders. A welcome contrast to the chilly nautical dawn. The sun still has a ways to go, but songbirds have begun their wake up call.

“As are you, Arella.”

Your eyes float to your favorite maiden standing above you. No more than a handful of years older, but with a heart for you as if she raised you from birth.

“It’s my duty to tend to you, is it not?”

Soft laughter harmonizes with the nightingales. A quick kiss on your forehead before her warmth disappears off the balcony — undoubtedly to go retrieve a treat of some kind.

She’s not wrong.

Technically it is her duty.

But Arella is your blessing.

Matting and kneading your surroundings to fit your needs. Eager to dampen the growing pains of settling in a new home.

Constant hellos.

Permanent smiles.

Not too wide, like a promiscuous woman. But not too tight, like a cold prude.

Rooms to tour. Hands to shake. Garments to pin and tie and lace around your lungs as if your God-given ribcage was a frivolous extra not needed for life. Not needed to breathe.

Breathe.

Your lids screw shut. Pulling in as much of the balmy, saltwater breeze gliding up the steep rock face along the overhang.

Much like he did.

The Chaplain.

His hair cascading down his back in the same way poets monologue when inspired. His eyes a mural of what the Gods paint when they want to show off.

The way earth acquiesces to his touch as if he is the Creator. The birds choose to perform for him every morning. And the ocean exists to bathe him.

You cannot decide if the sorbet sunsets are created by the Chaplain. Or if the Gods fight over who gets the honor of painting him a new one each evening.

“Sleep still escapes you, precious girl.”

It does, but not for the reason she thinks.

“You worry too much, Arella. I’ll adjust soon.” The tea she brought you is delicious.

The both of you cross back into your quarters. The stagnant, perfumed air suddenly suffocating.

“I would like to go to the chapel garden.”

A quiet declaration that stills your handmaiden in her tracks. Then a small grin blossoms on her beautiful face. Fussing with your bedding. Wiping away evidence of your sleepless night.

“For the flowers that bloom, little dove? Or for the God that tends to them?”

The blood in your veins runs subzero.

“Arella! I am engaged to be marri—“

“Of course you are. But eyesight isn’t a sin.”

Another moment of feigned irritation before you burst into a fit of childish giggles. The both of you no better than school girls, covering your mouths, stifling your laughter.

“I just wanted to see you smile.” Arella gestures to your extravagant dresser across the room.

“In the second drawer you can find a casual garment. Come back with at least one hour to prepare for Mass.”

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

A hummingbird chaperones your walk to the church estate. Dulcet hums drown out the rattling heartbeat between your ears.

This is harmless.

It is not a sin to take in Earth’s natural candy. To appreciate God’s gift to humanity.

In all of his majestic glory.

Your eyes dart around as if your thoughts are a tangible scroll. Written in ink for the world to see.

Don’t be ridiculous, there’s no one around.

Just you. Your fluttering companions (both heart and bird). The waking sun. God above and his plants swaying in the gentle gusts of wind. You’re safe in your mind.

Until he decimates all logical and reasonable train of thought, that is.

You should be angry. Infuriated. That no one adequately prepared you for seeing the demigod for the first time. Even now, you question whether he’s flesh and blood.

Maybe an illusion?

The Lord playing tricks from his throne?

The mirage before you halts your paces. You can’t help but question your level consciousness.

Because this must be a dream.

“Oh, don’t be cruel.”

Words slip out of your mouth, currently ajar. It’s not your place to chastise the One above, but come on.

Your eyes taste the Chaplain for a second time and this course is even more decadent than the first.

There he stands.

A raven waterfall down his broad, muscular back. Half of it tied away from his face. Olive skin so rich the surrounding plants pale in comparison. Russet brown working pants hang loose around his tapered waist, but snug around his thighs. Various tools hooked in the belt loops. Heavy mahogany work boots match the worn leather gardening gloves fitted to his hands.

His hands.

Reaching for thorny vines plaguing his hydrangeas. Even at your distance you could detail each muscle fiber in his arm tense and release with every pull and toss.

Pull and toss.

You would have gotten lost in his rhythmic trance, if it weren’t for the symbol branded in charcoal sprawling his back. The emblem peeks through his thick hair, every now and again.

A spear?

No.

A trident. With waves snaking up its stalk along his spine.

His gravitational pull is overwhelming. Your feet move with more stealth than the King’s Guard.

“Working on the Day of Rest, Father?” Casual, measured.

“Duchess,” Saliva pools in your mouth. His smile teases your ears before he graces you with it.

“I have to start being more careful about my clothing.” A playful glint in his eyes.

“Especially now that I’ve been blessed with a fellow greenskeeper.”

He is a man of God.

And would never insinuate anything impure.

But that doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around his words steeped in a baritone potent enough to rumble the ground beneath you.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve sent word that I was coming.”

“This palace belongs to you, Duchess. You are welcome here at any hour.” His hand captures a vine and tosses it into the pile without his eyes ever leaving yours.

You are weak.

And greedy.

The way your gaze drops to his arm. Desperately etching its contours into memory. Seconds, maybe minutes pass before you realize you were gawking. And the Chaplain just let you.

Head cocked to the side. Soft smile ghosting his full lips.

“Would you like to finish the tour of your new playground?”

“Y-yes. Of course, please.” Stumbling over the uneven cobblestone in your voice, you turn away to begin the coordinated stroll. The Priest slides his arms into a linen button up. Lazily fastening two center buttons only.

He informs you of the work that has already been done, what’s left. Where the soil is richest, where it is the most acidic. How the sun hits certain flowers at each hour of the day.

Brilliant.

With complete command over God’s bouquet. The sun following him wherever he steps.

“Did you enjoy your swim today, Father?” Both you and the Priest come to a slow stop. One of his angular eyebrows raised.

“I’m dry, Duchess.” He responds with a low, hypnotic chuckle.

Heat floods your cheeks. How could you be so presumptuous?

“What gave me away?”

Your knees nearly betray you. The razor sharp grin on his face could cut glass.

“You were born for the ocean. Or rather, the ocean was born for you.”

Your statement is greeted with blaring silence.

Lava in his gaze. Singeing every part of your face it touches. His expression is like a foreign language.

“I—I’ve overstepped, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. Clearly I have much to learn about social graces.” A meek apology bubbles out of your lips. Desperate to fill the space between your bodies.

The mercurial man shakes his head slightly. Thawed out from your statement, he reaches over and plucks a stray lilac petal resting on your crown.

“My father used to say the same.” He muses, looking away for the first time.

“Your father! Is he—“

“He was called home some time ago.” This smile is soft. Reminiscent. Polite, but his mind clearly elsewhere.

“Oh Father Geto, I’m so sorry.”

A foot in your mouth is not enough punishment for your indecency. Why would you go prodding like this?

“Don’t be, I’ll see him again. Soon enough.”

“Not too soon, I hope.” The statement draws a stunned gaze from the Chaplain. Eyes dancing between yours.

“Time to prepare for mass, little dove!” Arella’s melodic call tethers you back down from outer space.

You flicker over to her with a ruby dusting over your nose and cheeks. Like a child caught with her hand in a cookie jar before supper.

“Happy Sunday, Father!” Arella calls out, cheshire grin on her face deepening your crude blush.

“Indeed, Arella.” He returns the greeting while keeping his eyes on you.

“Send my regards to the Duke.” His voice lowers, for your ears only. With a nearly imperceptible edge to his tone.

“Happy Sunday, Duchess. We have a counseling session scheduled late afternoon, yes?”

A statement of pure black and white fact. And yet it travels down your spine and settles between your legs. Wet heat dampening your thin negligee.

“Yes, Father. Happy Sunday.”

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

Mass was miserable.

Your corset laced tight enough to meld your two lungs and beating heart into one entity. To say the neckline strangled you is putting it mildly. Cold, uninviting pews dug into your skin at every turn.

Wretched.

But the worst of it wasn’t the thin, oxygen-deficient air. Or the shards of glass that slid down your throat with every swallow. Even the jaw pain from tensing your lips in a well-mannered smile for two hours straight was tolerable.

The worst part of it was him.

The Priest mesmerized an entire congregation to an ear-splitting hush.

His first Sunday mass since appointment and nearly everyone in the country and every surrounding province stuffed into the chapel.

So desperate for blessings from Father Geto.

Could you blame them?

His voice danced in and out of the pews listlessly.

Soothing fussy children. Adolescent girls and their mother’s alike — utterly smitten. Adolescent boys experienced their first “I want to be like him” with their fathers sitting right next to them. Husbands glanced feverishly at the women in their lives.

He had to have noticed it. And yet, he floated above it all the entire service.

Above you.

Refusing to gift you those eyes that put Vincent Van Gogh to shame. No matter how much you shifted in your seat and straightened your spine.

The Priest spoke to everyone in the room but you.

Did you read him wrong?

Did you misinterpret your budding friendship?

Does it…should it even matter?

Your irritation is palpable. Innocent bystanders are caught in your friendly fire. Including Arella, who changed you out of that horrid costume. And sweet Noel, who ushered you into the seating area — just outside of the good Father’s office.

You make a mental note to send treats to the tender-hearted alter boy. And to apologize profusely to your handmaiden.

“You are a million miles away, darling.” The sound of your betrothed tows you out of the storm clouds.

You flicker over to the Duke. Emerald green eyes, high cheek bones — handsome in a way that is characteristic of everyone native to your new home.

“I’m right here, Ezra.”

“Are you, sweetheart?” The back of his hand caresses your cheek.

“Mmhm.” You offer your future husband a weak smile and kiss on his cheek. His eyes faltering slightly, undoubtedly hopeful for lips instead.

“Good afternoon, Duke and Duchess Ahriman.”

Father Geto’s velvet greeting encases you both. If Ezra’s arm didn’t guide you to stand you would have been paralyzed in your seat.

“Father Geto, a pleasure. Thank you for seeing us.” Ezra offers a genuine smile and handshake. Buying you a few extra seconds in your mind’s safe haven.

The Chaplain is tight lipped. Professional. He returns the handshake firmly.

“Pleasure is mine.”

Ezra shifts slightly on his feet. Straightening his spine and dropping his shoulders. Your eyes bounce between the Chaplain and your fiancé.

“I must say, Father. You are even more handsome up close. I speak for the men in this country, thank you for taking the vow of celibacy!” The words spill out of the Duke. Unknowingly thinning the air.

The Priest chuckles quietly, dropping his eyes briefly before landing them on you. And it feels like you could double over. Your core temperature skyrockets under his smoldering gaze.

He, the archer. You, the bullseye.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

Ezra laces his fingers in yours, taking the two seats directly in front of the oak desk. A leather bound notebook and pheasant feather pen are neatly arranged — with your names on the first page.

Blue flame rises from your toes to hairline. You might as well have been sitting naked. With how exposed, how vulnerable you feel already.

“What will we be covering first, Father? Something about how wives should obey their husbands, right?” Ezra is light-hearted. Meant to be said in jest.

But he finds himself being the only party in the room laughing.

The Priest rolls the ink pen between his fingers. Allowing a deafening silence to coat the walls. His expression is neutral, but eyes ablaze.

“If the man in question is worthy of submission.” He starts. A low, ominous rumble.

“Uh, yes. Of course.” Ezra responds, shifting in his seat.

But the Chaplain does not stop. Intent on making a point, he leans in. Pen whirling lightning fast between his long, deft fingers. Enough tailwind to launch across the room, if he desired.

“If the man in question would give his life for his wife.” Volcanic eyes linger on you, then back to your fiancé. Ezra’s palm finds your thigh. You gnaw on your inner cheek to avoid flinching away.

“If he would love her like Christ loves all of his creations unconditionally. Unselfishly. Irrationally.”

“Yes, Father. I understand.”

“Only then, should she submit.” His serrated tone could split chromium with ease.

“Of course, of course.” Ezra wisely accepts defeat.

He presses a short kiss on your cheek as an apology that you didn’t ask for, nor do you want.

“Mmm.” A forced acknowledgment of the Duke’s affection through your pinched lips. Barely able to move under the Father’s microscopic gaze.

“Now then,” Father Geto clears the boulders in his throat.

“Tell me about your love.”

The question stuns both you and the Duke. Looking to each other sheepishly because neither of you chose this.

War is young men dying and old men talking. And your life path is no different. Dictated by conversations between the powers that be.

“We’ve only met a week ago, Father.” Your honesty drives both of his eyebrows upward.

“A week ago?”

“But we are hoping you can teach us.” The Duke, overeager and excitable.

“Teach you…?” Father Geto muses. You can’t quite interpret his tone, or minimal response. But your heart flutters all the same.

He is thinking something. And what you would give to get a glance. To be let in.

“Perhaps guide us?” Ezra gives an unintentionally painful squeeze on your thigh. You fail to muffle the tiny whimper.

The Priest’s eyes laser down to where your fiancé’s hand lays. Chest rising and falling dangerously slow.

“Right.”

Your eyes trail upwards as he stands. Closer to God than to you from this point of view.

“Duke, Duchess. You’ll have to accept my sincerest apologies.”

His fingers dip the unused pen back into the ink cup. The edges of his leather bound notebook coming together. Seemingly without any notes, but an entire script from this session swirling in his mind.

“My schedule is incorrect. I have another commitment. We will reschedule, yes?” Said with a finality that sends chills crawling down your spine.

The two of you stand. Another handshake between the men. A restrained nod for you.

Just as quickly as you were let in, Father Geto shuts you out of his office and his mind.

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·

Suguru presses his forehead against the shower tile. Warm water raining down his loose mane. Soothing his sore, overworked limbs.

Today was maddening.

He nearly destroyed his vestment the minute that God-forsaken counseling session ended. Seeking refuge, he took to the coast.

And the sea provided anything but peace.

She was angry with him, tonight.

Curt. With unpredictable currents. Rip tides at nearly every turn. She tested his adaptation without mercy.

Just like that night.

“I’m going to stay on board, brother!”

Suguru flickered over to the silver-haired deckhand. An unfamiliar reservation opacifying his nearly translucent, iridescent eyes.

Brother in name, technically.

Their bloodlines were oil and water. He was a high born. Suguru was born unworthy of a beggar’s pity.

But, bloodlines were inconsequential when their souls were instep as one. Both handed to humanity on the same night. During a thunderstorm already inscribed in history books.

‘The Tide of Eternal Requiem.’

It brought complete devastation. Crops destroyed. Families torn apart by tragic accidents inland and at sea.

Then fate struck.

Within the same hour, a voltaic boy, with a halo that put the clouds to shame and diamond eyes that could draw truth from murderers was born into the loving embrace of his parents.

And Suguru was born with a crown so dark that the raging midnight appeared bright.

With eyes as ominous as the sky above.

Gunmetal grey, accented by an eerie violet swarm. Dormant volcanoes, threatening eruption. His birth mother abandoned him in an alley. Driven by fear that he was a bad omen from the Gods.

“Ahhh, Satoru come on. Since when do you shy away from a few waves?”

Suguru teased. Already well into the process of shedding his work gear.

“Zeus is the one rumored to be my father.” His counterpart flashed a knowing smile.

“Poseidon doesn’t watch over me like he does you, Suguru.”

A tsunami couldn’t keep Suguru from his home. Much less a little rain.

They were 3 miles away from the shoreline. Using his God-given ability, Suguru regularly acted as their scout. Performing his own reconnaissance then alerting the incoming ship of safe or turbulent terrain.

“Almost ready to go, son?”

His chosen father came up behind him. Suguru knew there were tears lining his meek eyes before turning to face him.

“Dad.” Suguru sighed, fully disrobed now. Just his muscular frame and a compression suit.

He met his father’s concerned gaze. Always like this during sea storms. Quiet prayers written all over his gentle features.

Despite the worry, he never once attempted to convince his oceanic boy to stay on board. It would have been too cruel.

“I’ll be fine, I’ve traversed angrier swells.”

“Suguru, take care of yourself when I’m gone.”

Elder, worn hands landed on his shoulders. Nearly too high for his reach. Suguru cocked his head to the side.

This goodbye was different.

“Stay on this path. For me. Albeit straight and narrow, there is a wonderful view. This is all for you, son.”

Both men glanced to the Persian gulf. She thrashed against their vessel. Swaying their catch left and right with the intention of taking her creatures back.

“Where is this coming from?” A genuine question from his younger self. Unable to read between the lines.

“Can’t a man just speak from the heart?”

The melancholy smile didn’t meet the wrinkles of time decorating his eyes, but they shared a laugh anyway. Suguru turned away but was promptly drawn back.

“My beautiful boy.”

The fisherman cradled his son’s face. Swimming in the eyes that Suguru once hated. The eyes that convinced his birth mother to abandon him.

“Make it to shore, son.” Suguru rested his head against his father’s neck. Taking a slow, sweet drag of his scent.

Oak.

He always smelled like oak. It was one of Suguru’s favorite things about him.

“If Poseidon calls—“

“I’ll tell him to fuck off.” Mischievous grin plastered on Suguru’s face. His father planted a kiss on his cheek, pushing him towards the end of the boat. As he always did.

Then the Gulf wrapped him in her hostile embrace.

She was irate.

Vicious tidal waves. Rapidly shifting currents. Even her creatures knew to settle below their usual depth. Suguru cursed the fact that he was born with useless, human lungs. Unable to withstand the pressure of the Midnight Zone.

Within minutes his long, lean frame was riding her whims without a shred of control. Tossed around like a rag doll. At her complete mercy — or lack thereof.

This was the first time he struggled to tame his element. A muffled groan bubbled around him. Serrated edges of long coral stalks dug into his back. Stark white foam whirled around him.

Aerated waters.

Suguru could barely maneuver against the waves pummeling his core. Searing heat traveling up his spine. His lungs demanded oxygen.

The boat.

The boat would never make it to shore.

Desperate, furious strokes of his arms meant nothing against her unrelenting grasp. Effectively pinning Suguru to his underwater cross.

A piece of chewed plank wood whizzed by his face.

Followed by another.

Then another.

And Suguru watched his nightmare materialize before his eyes. Mustering his last oxygen reserve, he bellowed against his closed lips.

As if she hadn’t already ignored the cries of his fellow fisherman.

Even still, he screamed so loud his ribcage should have vaporized. But ushering him to a watery grave at that time would have been too merciful.

Suguru blinks out of the harrowing memory. The steeping tea takes at least two layers of epithelium off his esophagus.

Fucking, hell.

He can’t seem to escape pain today.

The swim was excruciating.

Mass was dreadful.

Watching that boy’s hand lay on your lap was grating.

Suguru’s mind drifts back to you. Your thought washes over him like baptizing waters purifying that which is impure.

The gleam in your eyes when you asked about his morning plunge. Barely a week and your pulse on him is already this precise.

Do not covet, Suguru.

He scoffs to himself. Shaking free of your tempting spiral.

This ‘straight and narrow’ path is proving to be more challenging than he let on.

“Would you be proud, Father?”

A whisper of accusation at the end of his inquiry. Suguru would give his arms, his eyes…his life to hear his father’s voice on the other end of his questions, once again.

“Did He tell you?”

Roaring silence. Of course. He knows that. He expects it.

But it angers him all the same.

“Did He come to you in a dream??” Suguru echos louder. More frantic. Punched out in a way he can barely recognize.

“Was the reaper at His left, my heart on the right?!” A weak sob slips through the crack in his baritone.

Yet another pain. But this one is tart and blurring his vision.

“Did you KNOW? D—did you know that day was your last?!” He hisses through a salty stream. Storming out to the garden to escape the walls collapsing in on him.

Suguru’s eyes laser to the remaining thorny vines along his bed of hydrangeas. Without a second thought he wraps them around his bare arms. Staining the plant and his freshly bathed skin with crystalline tears. Once its thorns sufficiently bury into his skin he rips it away from the soil with all his might.

“Bastard. I’m your SON.”

Warm metallic drips down the hills and ridges of his arms. Collecting in the flower bed.

Is he cursing his earthly father?

His Heavenly One?

Or the Deity that brought this grief on him in the first place?

It hurts.

An unforgiving pain.

Much like the thorns in those rapids. Much like the inconceivable burn from his lungs begging for expanse. The time limit, even for him, ran lethally low.

Well exceeding his father’s time limit.

Poseidon stole from him that day.

A callous trade for Suguru’s continued existence.

“Why didn’t you…I—I should’ve been there.”

Guilt eviscerates Suguru’s remaining resolve. Tilting his head up, he lets the salty crystals rain down his cheeks freely.

The full moon cradles his face with the same warmth, the same adoration his father’s hands used to.

Suguru accepts its celestial kisses for a moment before burying his face into his bloodied palms. His damp locks curtain his flushed face. Protecting the world from his unruly sobs.

“I’m here.” Barely audible words escape through desperate grabs for air.

“I made it to shore, Dad.”

E/N: Oh hello, don’t mind me just sobbing. Also, guest appearance by our glorious Blue Eyed Babygirl King™️ If you need me, I will be in witness protection before Gege finds this since it’s a crime to be a S*toru lover.

taglist: @blkkizzat @rotteneyess

136 notes · View notes

hazbinhoteloc-ninlil · 14 hours

Text

Asking about Adam;

//A.N: This was originally going to be an RP, but due to burnout, paired with a desire to move the story along I have decided to progress the plot of Ninlil’s end Via a canon Story. Please know I will be doing my best to represent @theholyone-hh as close to his character as I can. However, I will never do as well as the original Mod who runs him so if he seems a bit OOC, I do apologize. //

TW: depressive episode, feelings of worthlessness, anxiety and yearning. Clumsy attempts at comfort, maybe some bad decisions. Some realizations Because of the topics discussed this will be a 16+ fic. If you’re feeling these types of emotions please go seek out proper help.

This isn’t going to be super long, but it is gonna be a longer story, strap in folks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enjoy my story below the cut;

Ninlil had slowly been going mad, between the time that had been spent in her cage combined with her heartbreak of being left behind while others moved on, she had fallen into a depression.

Even now she laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling well into the day, yet to eat, yet to clean herself - not that such a thing was truly needed in heaven, though it still showed a lack of her own self care - and yet say hello to her keeper Host.

The winged woman started to question if what she had done was worth it… not even her sacrifice and subsequent soul selling, before that… when she was alive. Were her actions worth it?

She was always the care taker, always the protector. And yes, those she watched over never asked her to do so, she had done it because she loved them and didn’t know how else to show it…

The things she had done, the blood she had spilled, the lives she had prematurely ended for the sake of preserving her beloved…

Was it for nothing? Did she waste her time… did she waste her life?

Her breathing turned harsh as tears ran down her cheeks. A whine lodged in her throat that she simply refused to let out…

Had she truly being abandoned by those whom she sacrificed Everything for? Was she selfish for wanting them to care a bit more and not move on so fast?

But… she wanted them to move on, she wanted them to be happy, she wanted them to find peace… why did it hurt now that they were actually doing it thanks to her sacrifice…

Was she a bad person for hoping they’d still try to save her even though she knew that it was futile and if they dared to try it could result in them getting hurt? Or worse, their very souls being destroyed?

No… no, she couldn’t be selfish… she had given up too much to waste on such self-serving wishes…

But then why did it still hurt so much?

Her breathing turned harsh as she gripped the angelic fabric over her chest, the erratic and rhythmic beating of her heart a brand against her palm. Just like the warm golden hearts gripped in her hand with the fabric were a constant reminder of what exactly she had done.

She had died for love… twice…

Did that make her honorable… or a fool?

Her other hand covered her mouth as a sob forced it’s way out and she curled up into herself, laying on her side as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror…

Her eyes weren’t hers anymore…

They were His.

Haha! Pathetic!… I’m pathetic! She thought to herself with bitterness as she tried desperately to hold back her tears.

She didn’t hear the door click open as God stepped in.

“Birdy?”

His voice came out hesitantly.

“What is wrong? What ails you?”

Now,

God was very very old, God was wise and God saw all…

But, still, he was ill-equipped at dealing with emotions. Having been alone for as long as he has, his emotional maturity is stunted, and he didn’t know exactly what humans required.

They were little things to him. God looking at humans, as humans might a smaller creature, like song birds or squirrels or even ants at times.

True, his Birdy has taught him many a valuable lesson. She has taught him about how humans utilize Free Will differently, how humans had feelings and needed to be treated like people, how children make mistakes, how pride is a powerful thing, that 10,000 years is a long time…

She was patient and a good teacher, his sweet little Birdy, a child herself compared to his vast and endless existence, but still wise and gentle.

He liked her. It’s why he kept her.

Perhaps, in his mind, he was aware that he should release her from his sculptors cabin and allow her to Roam and Experience the heavens he had created to house the mortal souls… souls like her…

But he enjoyed her company too much.

And she never asked him to leave.

So why bring it up?

Still though, as he let himself into her private room, he still thought himself ill-equipped to deal with… whatever this was.

Part of him wanted to just leave the room, but something stopped him.

“Birdy… talk to me child. Why do you weep?”

He sat on the foot of the bed, his massive height making it creak, but it held under his weight because he willed it to.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

He awkwardly - but gently - patted her back in a sorry gesture of comfort.

But for Ninlil, it was enough to know he was trying, and it made her sob harder. Not in pain, but that someone cared, and it was the very person she had sold her soul to so that he’d stop hurting the people she had been growing to love… that she did love.

It’d be hilarious if it wasn’t so sad.

She cried for 30 more minutes before the sobs finally ceased and she just breathed manually and with steady concentration to force her body and her mind to calm itself. Still curled in on herself in a vain attempt at self-comfort.

During her sobs, her head had ended up on Gods lap, his hand - still awkward- petting her hair.

“What brought this on my Birdy? What has happened?”

God asked softly, seeing that Ninlil had finally calmed.

There was a tense beat of silence before Ninlil spoke, her voice raspy and thick from her sobs.

“…. Have I been good? Did I make the right call? Was my sacrifice not in vain?”

It was God’s turn to be silent. Mulling over her words and wondering if there was a correct answer. He settled on the truth.

“You, have surpassed all expectations I had for you… You have restored my faith in humanity and for your sacrifices and good deeds, I deemed it fit to restore your divinity. You’ve been a bit more than, Good.”

He paused as he thought over his next words.

“As for the outcome of your sacrifices… I suppose it depends on what you deem as a success… Lucifer has moved on with his damned bride. They seem to have re-found their happiness, the First Man and the Second Woman are moving on and finding their peace as well. Though Adam still needs to undergo his final two remaining punishments.”

His hand jerked as Ninlil flinched beneath him, having not expected that movement from her. He expected her next words even less, though, at this point he supposed he should’ve seen it coming. She was a loyal woman after all.

The dedication she had to the original duo and the Morningstar was indeed admirable.

“Is there anyway you can leave it at the nightmares he’s already had? Maybe as payment for the tail feathers you took?” Her voice pleading.

“Pet.”

He growled, his voice low and full of warning.

“Your feathers were taken as punishment for placing your soul and my Power in danger by allowing yourself contact with a damned soul before your divinity was properly settled…”

He eyes her until she shrunk beneath his gaze, surrendering to his presence.

“And you know the deal, 3 nightmares, and then freedom. You will not sacrifice more of yourself for him. As you’ve already mentioned so many times; We are all over 10,000 years old. He can handle himself.”

He ran a hand through her hair again as if to push his order into her head, both in comfort and a mocking reminder he saw her as just that… a pet.

“Yes sir…” she conceded, knowing there was nothing she could do. Not against him. Not when he owned her soul. She felt her desire to argue his words and plead her case for her beloveds die in her chest before it was even a proper thought. His hold on her complete.

“Good girl.”

He carefully pat her head again. Praising her and rewarding her obedience.

Indeed she was a good child. He had chosen well.

“Now. What can I do to make you feel better and forget about all this, sad nonsense?”

He waved a hand frivolously at the word, as if her depression was a minor inconvenience.

To him… perhaps it was…

Ninlil sighed as she sat up and began to comb her fingers through her hair, attempting to regain her composure and her appearance.

“I need to wash, I probably look a mess… afterwards… I’d like to rest in the sun for a bit if that’s okay with you Sir.”

She looked up at him, and she wondered if she looked as pathetic as she felt. Emotionally drained, physically exhausted, eyes red and puffy, skin pale from crying.

Though if she did, God made no mention of it. Instead, he simply nodded.

“I shall allow this, I will meet you outside, do hurry.”

Ninlil nodded as she felt obedience wrap around her, urging her to hurry and obey. The side effect of her deal.

Still she took care in her task, allowing herself to be a bit pampered after her earlier violent purge of emotions.

Still though; She was outside, laying in the sun-warmed grass in under 20 minutes, God beside her, joining her. Enjoying the basking rays of golden warmth.

———————————

There they stayed for hours. Sunbathing as though it could wash the darkness within her mind away.

Though, there were certain thoughts that still plagued her. Her mind still running.

She wanted to check on Adam, she wanted to check on Lucifer and check on Eve… she wished they were the ones beside her right now, enjoying the sunshine rays. And comforting her after her cries…

But alas, God wouldn’t permit that…

Her mind still wondered, thinking to other people she missed.

Her brother… Though, god was lenient enough to grant the siblings some free time together.

Yes, seeing Conner again after seven years had brought more happiness into her life than she could remember. She felt as though her heart was gonna burst. God allowed Conner over, and allowed her to leave with him… so long as she was back before sundown.

How she had missed him…

It had given her endless relief when she had learned that her long deceased grandparents had been the ones to take Conner in. He was still with family. And even better,

He was slowly growing. He would eventually have the chance to be an adult. He wouldn’t be a child forever.

She had wept with joy upon learning that.

Her thoughts wondered agin,

To another man she loved…

To a human she had loved…

Adam…

No not That Adam…

Her Adam, the human Adam, the brilliant doctor who was full of light and life.

The man she had ended her human life to protect…

The man she had condemned herself to hell for.

Her first love…

“Sir?” She found herself speaking up.

God lazily rolled his head to look at her, having been enjoying the sun’s rays.

“Hmm?”

“May-“ She hesitated, suddenly nervous.

“Well? Spit it out Birdy.”

God rolled his eyes impatiently as he adjusted so he was lying on his back. Still enjoying the sun.

Ninlil took a deep breath and asked. “May I see someone on earth?”

God froze. Before he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“Who?”

“There was a man I left behind a little over five years ago. I loved him very much…. He’s the reason I willingly damned myself to hell. I would like to check on him. See if he’s doing okay.” Ninlil would speak a little too quickly, needing to force herself to make sure her words were slow.

God thought about it for a bit before he sighed.

“I… suppose I can grant you this. You have been good lately and I suppose you deserve a reward.”

He raised a hand and with a crackle of pure divine energy, summoned a viewing sphere that glowed even in the bright daylight.

“Well, what was the mortal’s name?”

Ninlil but her lip. “Adam…”

God froze and slowly turned to look at Ninlil and Ninlil was quick to raise her hands in defense.

“Not that Adam! This Adam was a surgeon! A very talented one! They are NOT the same man! They just happen to share the same name I promise!”

God still started at her just long enough for Ninlil’s heart to drop before he sighed and shook his head.

“Oh child, what am I gonna do with you….”

He asked her. Before he turned his body to properly face her. The glowing sphere of divine light between them. And his face very serious.

“Do you love this man?”

The question gave Ninlil a pause…

She hadn’t thought about that in a while. And even a month ago the answer would been easy.

Yes, everything she had done was for him.

The deals, the murders, the monsterzation of herself, the burial of her peace, the always going, the never resting… EVERYTHING… was for him…

Even a month ago, his face alone was the picture in her mind when she thought of the word ‘Love’…

But now, so much has happened.

Now, three other faces flashed in her mind when she thought of that word… two in the forefront…

Lucifer… and Adam…

The former angel who she died for as she had her human beloved, the former angel who made her laugh, the former angel who carried her with a shocking strength when she was too weak to move on her own…

And the First Man. Adam. The man who held her safe as she took her last breath once again, the man who begged her to stay with him even as she bled out. Who held her safe when she wept through the anniversary of her brother’s death, who made her smile and laugh again, who made her feel important and baked with her. Who reminded her what is was to feel strong, yet cared for.

She did still love her Beloved… but she didn’t just love him alone anymore… she… didn’t know how to feel…

“I… don’t know….” She found herself saying, unable to help but feel like she was betraying her beloved in that moment. Tears welling up in her eyes again.

“Birdy, i would make another Deal with you. Because seeing you hurting does not please me.”

Ninlil gulped. “What would the deal be sir?”

“If whatever you see, causes you pain, and pushes you deeper into your sadness. I will remove this mortal from your memories so that you won’t hurt from them ever again…

But, if you are pleased with what you see, than I will ensure his safety for the rest of his mortal life…. If he’s as good as you say, He will know no hardships and can focus his energy on helping others.”

He holds out a hand.

“Deal?”

Ninlil started at his hand as her thoughts raced, her eyes wide and flowing with tears that left mini rivers down her cheeks as her head struggled to wrap itself around God’s words.

He would be safe… forever safe, free from any harm that may befall him. Just as she had sacrificed everything in hopes of accomplishing…

Or,

He would be forgotten, the reason for everything she had sacrificed, the reason she had gone to hell in the first place. The reason she had suffered as she had suffered and made the choices that had shaped her as a woman… simply… gone…

Was it worth it…

Was she that curious….

‘Yes’ She decided. ‘Yes she was, she needed to know that she hadn’t died in vain… she needed to see him…”

She placed her hand in his much larger grip and squeezed.

“Deal.”

The constraints of the deal wrapped around her like chains, and she felt a twinge of fear for a bad outcome. Suddenly aware that she was currently unable to lie to the ancient being before Her.

As the deal settled, the glowing sphere began to glow impossibly brighter. And images began to dance in the shadows before becoming clear.

She saw her beloved… the human Adam…

He was smiling, talking to a patient and giving what looked like a good diagnosis. The patient, who had been holding the hand of their spouse while listening to Adam’s words burst into tears and held their loved one in a tight embrace before enthusiastically shaking Adam’s hand and offering a load of sincere, tear-filled thank you’s.

Then Adam had gone through the rest of his day, conducting surgeries, talking to patients, and reassuring an old man who didn’t have enough money for his wife’s broken wrist that if he instead paid with some fresh venison, consider the price waived.

He was always like that. Ninlil remembered, So generous and kind, becoming a doctor not for the money, but for the pure joy of making others feel better.

That desire to help people no matter what is what had attracted Ninlil to him in the first place… how she would have done anything to protect that smile.

He was good… so good.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have come as a shock that when he ended the day, he went to his truck, and once he had slid in, and fished in his pocket and pulled out a ring…

Ninlil froze, not even daring to breathe.

She watched unblinkingly as he carefully slid that ring onto a very specific finger…

She sat in silence as she watched him drive home listening to the music she had long associated with him…

And she moved not even a muscle as she watched him eventually pull into a driveway, into a garage, only to step out and walk into his house.

And into the arms of a woman wearing a matching ring…

A breath left Ninlil lungs as she still continued to stare at the seeing sphere.

He had gotten married, he had moved on…

Of course he had, she reminded herself. It’s been over five years…

She watched as the couple chatted and laughed, sitting down to eat dinner before cleaning up together and dancing in the living room…

It was a picture of a perfect romance… homely, domestic and innocent…

It was everything Ninlil has never had… and everything she had wanted…

Everything she secretly wished to still eventually have one day.

When they settled in the couch to watch some movie, Ninlil found herself reaching to touch the sphere, murmuring to herself. Her eyes still fixed in the screen as tears continued to roll down her cheeks.

“He got married… he’s safe, he’s happy, he moved on… I…” She smiled, letting out a shuddering breath. “I didn’t die for nothing….”

She watched them for a few more minutes, fixated on their smiles and laughter… zoned in on their true happiness.

But when they decided to share a kiss and retreat to their bedroom, God shut down the sphere.

“Are you satisfied with what you saw my Birdy?”

Ninlil nodded, her eyes still on where the sphere was.

“I am…” Her voice broke, but not with anguish. With relief.

God nodded and carefully picked Ninlil up. The winged woman letting him. Abruptly becoming aware that the sun had set while she was focused on the visions within the sphere.

God took her inside and sat her on the crafting table before taking his own seat and grabbing a chunk of clay.

“True to my promise, I will make sure that mortal remains safe.”

He said as he shaped the clay in his hands into a great golden eagle. Molding the clay with the knowledge and skill of a master. The eagle as detailed as the actually thing before he gave it a spark and breathed life into it, making it become the actual thing and sending it to earth.

“He shall never know another day of hardship, not so long as he remains pure intentioned.”

“Thank you sir.” Ninlil responded, bowing her head in obedience. “You don’t realize how much I appreciate your generosity.”

He waved off her words with a huff. But was happy she was no longer crying as she had been before. Those sounds weren’t pleasant to him.

He kept his Birdy by his side, where they talked and learned from each other well into the night before he eventually retired into his room, and Ninlil was close behind to do the same.

As she laid in her bed, she stared at the ceiling and thought about what she had seen today.

Adam was safe, happy, and moved on… her chest hurt a bit at the thought, but more overwhelmingly, she was genuinely happy her beloved still wasn’t mourning a dead woman.

5 years… 5 years was long enough to mourn. He deserved this happiness.

Her mind filled with a sense of peace as she gave her blessing.

“May your cup always be full, your heart happy, your mind peaceful, and your wallet forever filled with prosperity, I loved you Adam…” she whispered as she stared at the ceiling in the privacy of her room. “But you’re no longer mine…My heart releases you. I wish you all the best of love and luck my former beloved”

She sighed and closed her eyes as other faces filled her mind…

How she missed them… how she wanted to be back in their arms…

In her mind, in her room, in the depth of the night. Ninlil began to formulate a plan. The last semblance of her whole, un-splintered mind grasping onto this hope. Given a purpose once more, she rattled against the chains of complacency, the Watchdog opening her eyes again.

She had to get back to them…

The only thing left to figure out was How?

————————————————

Authors note; THIS TOOK ME TWO DAYS! But it’s not proofread, please forgive any spelling errors! I hope you enjoyed!

Tagging list:

@hunters-trashblog @sinner-master-adam @chaoticmoron @rayhandle @first--woman @theholyone-hh @green-static @stampy-offical @lolmerfolk @god-the-lord

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #ninlil #hazbin oc #hazbin #Hazbin hotel OC Ninlil #Hazbin Hotel God #lore #cannon

15 notes · View notes