#its a warm embrace of an old fic

[owlf45]

when it comes to unfinished fics, i actually found i prefer instead of a writer forcing themselves to slog through and finish the fic, just a chapter summarizing the way the story was going to end. like where the plot was going, what was going to happen to the characters. it could even just be a bullet point list tbh.

a couple people made this point. i think it's definitely a good middle ground for sure

not to be contrary, i really do enjoy when authors do that, but ill give my own perspective since i complained about no one giving theirs and i have yet to contribute to my own conversation.

for my smaller projects, especially the ones that only got a chapter or so in and could easily be read as ambigious/open ended— leaving those unfinished worked fine.

for my longer projects, like imaginary and indefinite, even if its like pulling teeth, it is fulfilling to return to them. I'm not as passionate about the works, but also being in the middle of passion can instill paralysis— you cant write because you're too damn excited. writing now can be exhausting, but it satisfies that little version of me that dreamed about updating the last chapter so many years ago.

of course, i dont think this would be possible if i didn't have my notes and a rough direction i was heading. some stuff still slips past me, but generally the direction is the same. i don't think my writing and execution is as strong, but most people don't seem to notice or don't say as much, to be honest. even if my grasp on the characterization isnt as strong, even if my passion has cooled, as long as i have that direction i intended so many years ago, i feel good about what I'm posting.

i used to be deathly afraid of mediocrity and disappointing people, of not capturing that original glow that made my work so fun to begin with— but that saying 'either do it, or do it scared' holds true here. and i can add something aged and different to my work. also, i think focusing so hard on quality makes you lose yourself in creation rather than creativity.

but of course, that's only my journey, navigating with my 5 year-old-fics. they're old loves. i think if you're sick of a work, or if you're coming back to a work with genuinely no direction, it can be very hard to write and you'll be lost and frustrated. old-me already did all the heavy lifting, i just have to do my job and put words on paper.

#my asks #alright im getting off my soapbox #i was just curious from the reader's perspective #i dont read much fanfic anymore #i think ive really struggled coming back to old fics (hence why fourteen masks is on a separate account) #but posting to imaginary and getting a warm reception made me re-realize that its not a burden; its a hobby #its a warm embrace of an old fic

[abbyromanoff]

hello! can you write dom g!p student natasha x sub fem teacher reader?

DELICATE

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 3356

WARNINGS: smut, professor x student, cheating, mentions of Wanda x R, dark fic, mommy (N), degrading, praising, dubcon, recording, nat has a dick, breeding, mentions of belly bulges, mentions of guns and killing, veryyyy dark!Nat, somnophillia, Nat kinda babying R, threatening, think that’s all :)

Kinktober masterlist!!

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Your pen collided with the paper stacked upon others, a black line of ink following your every thread. Your lip was held by your teeth tightly while the computer's blazing glow shined through the dark room, being the only source of light as you found yourself too tired to reach out to the lamp across the room.

It was past midnight and you were well over your scheduled time but you had to grade these papers, the students were depending on them and you were lacking this month. You promised beforehand that they’d all see their results in a week or two but it passed that limit, and no matter how many times you apologized you still felt a nagging guilt when you were reminded of how aggravating it was for you to hear such things from your professors.

A sudden vibrate came from your phone and, even if you were in a deep focus, you were able to tear your eyes away for a fleeting moment to read the text coming from none other than Wanda, one of your students. The two of you shared a more intimate relationship than normal, but neither of you could stop yourselves. She was so beautiful and so intelligent, she always strived to receive the highest performance and often times found herself staying with you to complete work. Even in the silence, there was a sense of comfort and you wanted nothing more than to see how far this feeling could go, but she was your student and you were her professor, you thought there was nothing you could do.

That was until her lips landed on yours one afternoon when everyone had disappeared, leaving the two of you alone with no one to stop either of you. That night she went home with you, bringing you to multiple orgasms before you woke up next to her, lucky enough to realize it was a Saturday and you didn’t need to come into work. You left after a shared breakfast and peck to the lips that lasted longer than it should’ve. And then, your relationship started to blossom as you shared contacts and met up on occasion, careful enough to make sure no one could recognize the two of you.

Wands <3: Hello, my love! I hope work is going well and you’re not stressing yourself out too much. I just wanted to say goodnight since I finally finished my essay for Professor Rodgers, I was also thinking maybe we could see each other sometime this weekend. You know, to get our minds off the stress of papers and essays and assignments, all that boring stuff. Anyways, goodnight, and I hope you get home safely, I’ll hopefully see you soon!

The well-written paragraph almost seemed to release the tension that had been brewing inside of you, instead replacing it with a warm fuzzy sensation that had you blushing a deep red. You started to type out a well-thought-out response until you heard a small creaking. You assumed it was just due to the old pipes that you sent multiple requests in to be fixed and shrugged it off. That was until it continued.

“Hello? Anyone there?” You set your phone down and stood up, the laptop light now dimming the longer it was left unattended. It stopped for a moment and you started to believe it was all in your head, that was until you heard a loud, booming sound playing through what you guessed was a speaker. The projector suddenly lit up and was embraced with a video of you and Wanda on a coffee date at the cafe two blocks down, you gulped fearfully. You looked all around you, your heartbeat suddenly increasing its pace when you found nothing but a looming shadow in the corner.

“Who the fuck are you?” The video continued to play and that’s when you heard a deep moan, one that sounded all too familiar. You whipped your head around only to see a recording of Wanda going down on you while your hand laced through her hair, the other resting on your breasts as you helped her bring you to an orgasm.

“What the fuck?” Came your small whisper, confusion settling in and overpowering the fear you held.

“Mm, I remember that day very well.” Hands suddenly found themselves placed on your shoulders, making you jump at the contact before a chuckle left the unknown figure.

“Don’t be scared, love, I don’t bite. Well, unless you wanted me to, and after seeing that video I’m starting to think you’d very much enjoy that.” A lingering touch was planted on your hip as they turned you to face them, your eyes widening as you met the redhead’s green eyes in return.

“Hey, Professor.” You were suddenly very aware of the limited distance shared between you two and tried backing up discreetly, only to hear a clicking on her tongue in return.

“What do you want from me? How did you get those videos?” You asked timidly, feeling yourself now very much exposed with your opened buttons adorning your blouse. You noticed her staring at your chest as well, eyeing the black lace that made its way to the surface ever-so-swiftly.

“So many questions and so little of answers to give, what a shame.” She gave you a faux pout before biting her lip hungrily, palms rubbing at your sides softly as she seemed to be soaking in your curves.

“I’ve known about your relationship with Wanda for quite some time now and, my-oh-my, am I disappointed in you.” She stated, and without knowing why, you let your head fall in shame. “Don’t hide on me now, love, you seemed so confident when you were moaning her name, why so shy all of the sudden, hm?” You felt tears starting to form and sniffled, resulting in a mocking tone from the younger woman.

“Awh, don’t cry, you should know I don’t like cry babies.” She wrapped her arms tightly around your figure and brought you even closer to her body which radiated a strong perfume she wore. You couldn’t stop your head from leaning onto her chest as she ran her fingers through your soft locks that appeared messy from your state.

“You’ve been working so hard, haven’t you? Such a dumb baby, stressing yourself out so much, why don’t you have yourself a little break, yeah?” You nodded, a small sense of comfort forming in your brain at her words. She led you to where you sat at your desk and had you relax in her lap, kissing the top of your forehead while shushing your cries softly.

“Don’t be scared, baby, Mommy just wants to spend some time with her sweet angel.” A part of you wanted to scream and interrogate her on how she found such private moments of you, but the other part of you wanted to stay in her strong yet soft arms. You didn’t know if it was the tiredness or the overwhelming stress you found yourself sinking further into her hold.

“I think I know what could get you feeling so much better.” You felt the pads of her fingertips teasing your inner thighs through the tight pants you wore. Suddenly being very aware of the situation you were in, you started to whine, trying to form words but feeling too tired to speak.

“Shh, trust Mommy, okay? You’ve been working so, so hard lately, you deserve some of Mommy’s love, don’t you think?” She was your student, always hidden in the back as her eyes strayed towards you instead of your writing and words, this was wrong. Although, you couldn’t quite say that when knowing you did the same with another redhead. Shit. Wanda.

“N-no, we can’t, Nat-” You tried regaining your composure but your words seemed to come out bubbly and drawn out, your mind becoming too foggy as you were in desperate need of sleep.

“It’s Mommy to you, Professor. C’mon, you can’t tell me you don’t want this, you’ve practically been begging me to fuck you all year.” She remembered vividly whenever you’d bend over to direct a student in front of her, your ass being displayed generously to her eyes. Or whenever you’d help her even if she lied when saying she needed it, and the pet names that rolled off your tongue sent her in a spiral, she even convinced herself it meant more than you intended it to. She was so delusional, thinking that everything you did was purposeful and that you only saw Wanda as a way to replace your love for Natasha, even though that was far from the truth.

“You don’t know how badly I despise that asshole for taking you away from me, but it’s okay now, we’ll be together soon enough, I promise.” You shook your head but she held it firmly in her palm, bringing you as close as possible to her chest while forcing the quietness in you.

“I dreamt of the day you’d finally admit your love for me and let me show you how badly I want you, but then she got in the way and ruined everything. Not to worry though, I know you’ll end things with her before I end her myself.” She grinned as you tensed in her hold, only to stroke your cheek softly while her eyes deemed into yours. She could feel herself growing impossibly harder the more she held back, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to for much longer.

“You need to get some sleep, little one. You’ve been working such long hours, such a hard little worker you are. C’mon, get some rest and Mommy will take care of you.” You denied it again and again, knowing you were going to lose as your eyes started to close on you. They felt heavy, unbelievably heavy, at that.

“You know you’re not going to win this one. Just give in, Mommy would never hurt her precious baby.” Your mind was turning foggy with the way she spoke so gently along with the way she held you as if she never wanted to let go, you knew you were a goner.

“That’s it, don’t worry, just rest now, love.” She smiled to herself when seeing your eyes fully close, no matter how much she loved them she’d rather see them closed over while she fucked you into unconsciousness.

She set your body on the wooden desk after clearing the stacks of papers and ruined pens. Her hands came to spread your thighs instantly, growing more and more desperate the longer she waited. Her cock was practically drooling at the sight of you as she reached beneath the barrier of her pants and boxers to cup herself, shuddering in pleasure as she welcomed the bliss that followed.

“Such a perfect slut, already so compliant for Mommy.” Your belt was thrown as she pulled down your pants until she was greeted with the wet patch forming on your panties. You looked so adorable like this, she just had to keep it in her memories forever.

Grabbing her phone she took a few quick images that she knew she’d spend hours jerking off to the rest of the semester. That’s when a thought came to her. Setting up her phone against your laptop she pressed the red record button and smiled at the thought, turning back to you where she continued to remove the little amount of clothing you had on. Joining the pile of fabrics were your blouse and soon after your bralette that she spent an extra moment admiring.

She quickly did the same to herself as she stood stark-naked in front of you, your body only being covered by the little undergarment left.

“Look at how precious my angel is, so fucking perfect.” She grasped the phone in her hand as she directed the camera towards you, letting the lack of audience watch as she stroked her length over your covered cunt.

“This has been a fantasy of mine for some time now, sweetheart. Mommy’s so happy you’ve been so obedient, I knew you would.” She found herself coming to a quick release as spurts of her cum splashed your body before she aimed toward your breasts, moaning lowly as she painted your perky nipples white.

She set the electronic back down before leaning in and pressing a kiss against your dry lips, frowning as you shuffled slightly in your sleep. Her cock was aching to be inside of you by now, a throbbing redness appearing on her tip as she teased herself against your clit. That only seemed to edge her further until she finally let herself break and prodded at your hole, using your wetness as a form of lube. She was shocked to see you nearly dripping even when you tried to deny ever wanting this, ‘such a dumb whore’, she thought.

“Oh, yes, you feel so fucking amazing! Even better than I knew you would be.” She moaned dryly and thrusted her hips slightly, feeling yourself take her deeper and deeper until her pelvis bone was pressing into yours.

It was like you were made for her as you wrapped around her perfectly, and in her mind, you two were meant to be. She tried to erase the thought of Wanda from her mind, of the lude acts you two shared when you thought no one knew, but it only angered her further.

She knew you loved her, that’s what she convinced herself of at least. All the touches, the whispered words, they were meant for her and for a reason. Wanda did nothing to deserve your love, but Nat had been watching over you and keeping you from harm, only you never knew. And if you did, you’d most likely freak, but she didn’t want you to be scared, especially not of her.

“I’ll kill that bitch if she ever comes near you again, I fucking promise, baby.” The way you were sucking her in, your walls trapping her in place, this was all the proof she needed. There was no doubt in her mind that you’d spend the rest of your life with her. After all, she got whatever it was that she wanted.

“Oh, look who’s waking up.” Your eyes fluttered open as a whimper tumbled from your lips instantly. She smiled in your direction before grasping your chin in her fingertips, turning your head to face the camera still pointing towards the two of you.

“You look so cute, can’t wait to fill that pretty mouth with my cock.” You were slowly coming to your senses when you felt your back scratching against the desk as her hips continued to slap against yours, creating a loud clapping that echoed across the large room.

“Nat- ah!” You wanted to tell her to stop, that you’d report her for such horrid acts, but you couldn’t. The fact that it was so wrong made it feel even better, that seemed to be an occasional occurrence with you.

“Tell me you want me to stop, tell Mommy you don’t want it.” She was aching to hear it, to hear you beg her for less, knowing you wanted more.

“Please- please stop! I can’t take it!” She covered your mouth with her hand when your pleads came out, shushing you with that soft yet raspy voice of hers.

“Shh, don’t want anyone to hear ‘ya now. How do you think they’d react seeing a professor getting used by their student like a pathetic slut?” Your breath was coming to a regular, your heart finally returning to a normal beat as you accepted your fate. But something about the way her cock teased that spot deep inside of you that had you squirming made it all the better.

“You want Mommy to play with your clit? Yeah? Awh, all you have to do is ask, sweetie.” She spoke when your hand came to rub your swollen bud in a hurry, moan after moan leaving your mouth in response. She slapped your palm away and replaced it with her own, using her thumb to rub harshly and she smirked when hearing your juices spraying against her fingers.

“Oh my, baby, look at that!” Your mouth went slack as you squirted on her length, basking in the sweet pleasure she brought you.

“M-mommy! Mommy- please-“ She chuckled dryly at your babbled words.

“Yeah? You need something? Or are you too dumbed down to speak?” You bit your lip, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“My brainless little doll, you like it when Mommy fucks that nice spot?” Your nods were rapid even if you had barely any knowledge of what she said.

“I’m gonna cum in this dirty little cunt, and you’re gonna take all of it like a good girl, alright?” There was no time to agree as you felt a warm liquid starting to fill you up, your walls being painted white while she pressed down on your stomach lightly, smirking when she felt a small bulge.

“God, you’re gonna be the best Mommy ever, you’ll look so fucking sexy all round and full. It’ll be a constant reminder of how you let your student use you like a worn-out whore.” The video ended and Wanda stared at her phone with tears ready to spill. Nat had sent her a file to which she thought would be notes from class, she never really liked the redhead but she was able to get used to her annoying antics. But now, she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to step foot in that class or look at you the same. She knew you were asleep during the first half, but you accepted her request in the end. Would she forgive you? How would she ever be able to go on another date knowing her classmate was fucking you not too long ago.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and, while being hesitant to open it, Wanda eventually gave in but what greeted her was not you ready to meet up like she asked. No, it was someone else. Someone who held a loaded gun in her hand.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I’d kill you if you ever look at them again.” The woman stated, laughing at the fear in the girl's eyes.

“So, I’ll give you some hope. You remove all contact you have with Y/N right now, then you pack up your bags and leave in less than twenty-four hours, got that?” When she nodded, Nat continued. “Then, you’re going to go as far as you can, somewhere that I’ll never have to see you again or I might just have to shoot your little brains out, Wands.” She twirled the gun in her hand as if it was a joke, a silly old laugh between two friends, but it was anything but.

“Well, I would say I hope to see you around but I guess you’ll be leaving now.” She gave an exaggerated pout and stuck her foot in the door when Wanda tried to close it in a hurry.

“If I come back here tomorrow and I see you’re still here, you won’t be the only blood splattered on the wall.” She whispered, thankful no one was nearby to hear her threatening words.

“Well, bye now!” She left with a smile planted on her face, knowing there was no chance of you and Wanda anymore. You were hers entirely, every part of you belonged to her and it would continue to stay that way.

Wanda closed her door with widened eyes, turning to face the body lying on her bed who seemed to have just woken from a nap.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, walking towards her as she refused to even look at you.

“I- uhm, I need to go.” She left before you could say a word, leaving the two of you with pieces of your heart damaged while Nat’s was perfectly healed, all while she was the one holding you at night.

#natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanart #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff mcu #natasha romanoff smut #mcu natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader angst #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x reader fluff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x reader smut #black widow #black widow fluff #black widow x you #black widow angst #black widow x reader #black widow x y/n #black widow smut

[ginkgo-phyta]

Hotch would definitely give you the princess treatment, and you know what? Jack would too, after seeing his father he knows how to treat a girl right. And the team would definitely tease Hotch, because his son is going to steal his partner from him :)

omg no LITERALLYYY tho like just like omfg alright i got carried away with this and its not even really what you're talking about but listen to me okay LISTENNNNN

tagged spencer reid x reader because i want more people to see this teehee pls dont hate me i have spencer fics yall should read if you havent already but also you should still read this too

YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH AARON HOTCHNER AND ITS INFLUENCE ON HIS SON JACK gn!reader, FLUFF, no warnings(?) another informal blurb typa format :P

you and hotch decide together you'd like to date for a while first, take things slower and fully solidify and strengthen your relationship, before you become a part of jack's life. you didn't want jack to get attached to you or write you off too quickly in case life took you in different directions. you didn't know it at the time, but hotch introduced you to jack when he was sure he was going to marry you some day- and soon. he had been so incredibly head over heels in love with you and once you and jack got close, the little guy really got to witness how highly his father regarded you- and just how he showed you it every day. even in the little things. from the way hotch pulled out your chair, held all doors open for you, always kept your favorite drinks and snacks stocked up in the fridge and pantry, never let you open your own car door, the way he made spaces for you in his bathroom and closet without even being asked, and how he always stuck to your weekly dinner date- whether in person or over the phone. to the way his father would look at you, listen intently to whatever you were talking or ranting about, how he'd cup your hands and press quick kisses to them or move any bothersome strands of hair from your face when you'd eat, and how enthusiastic he always was when you and jack would spend time together.

jack was a bit hesitant with you at first, he was a bit older at that point and the quickness with which beth had left his life had admittedly stung him, leaving an ever-present welt behind. but he warmed up to you, appreciative of the way you welcomed him with open arms, never pressured him to spend time with or even like you (letting him accept you at his own pace) and how you clearly were not trying to take the place of his late mother- even many, many years into your relationship with his father. what he loved the most was how you always encouraged hotch to recount stories of haley, put pictures of her in jack's room or wherever else he wanted them, and how you would remind him: "your mother would be so proud of you jack." you would watch old home videos of their old family and jack never failed to notice how you wouldn't ever feel negatively about it. that was really what won him over. he also loved how open you were with both him and his dad- every day you'd say "i love you!" both casually and purposefully. it instilled in the young boy the importance of expressing appreciation, love, and care for others.

before you, hotch was always a just bit emotionally closed off. even when it came to jack he liked to keep himself a bit more reserved. he tried to stay a strong and unwavering inspiration, only wanting to show his son his best face. but once you came into their lives you inspired hotch to open up more than he had the last few years after haley's passing, inspired him to embrace even the "uglier" emotions he felt in life: grief, anger, sadness, and tiredness. it ended up passing onto jack in small ways, allowing him to feel even closer to dad. you became a huge structural post in jack's life. your love for one other inspired him, as he grew up he dreamed of one day having a relationship like yours. he looked forward to being able to treat his significant other the way his father cares for you.

you loved jack as if he was your own, though you never wanted to say that to him for fear of overstepping your role. aaron would always assure you, especially as jack grew older, that his boy felt it. you watched him go from a playful child, to a moody teenager, to a budding adult eager to make his mark on the world. and you were there supporting him the whole way.

you'll spend a lifetime with the both of them and although there will be many funny, loving, or frustrating moments you'll hold in a special place in your mind, there's one memory from when he was still a youngin that you love the most. it was a surprise dinner party at your fancy restaurant, aaron had booked the whole place just for you and the guests to celebrate your engagement and he had enlisted jack's help to plan the whole thing. jack, the bau team, and your friends and family were all there to shower you in love. the most memorable part of the night was the moment everyone sat down for dinner, all around a giant table (possibly multiple tables pushed together). as everyone moved to take their place jack ran so eagerly in front of you to pull your chair out before his father got the chance. you were shocked for a second before bursting out in a melodious laugh- it was so unexpected but you were incredibly moved. "oh, jack, thank you!" your loving, excited, and genuinely appreciative tone made jack's already huge grin grow even wider and more endearing. everyone else had noticed this too and laughed in joy along with you. "oh my god!" "that was so freakin cute" "he did not just do that!" rang out around you. of course aaron noticed, standing in silence for a second, a similar smile mirrored on his face, before he shook his head with a chuckle. as you took you seat, jack made sure to push your chair in just before you sat down fully, diligently executing what he'd studied his father do hundreds of times before. you turned to thank him, but before you could even open your mouth jack moved to take your cloth napkin from the table, shake it open, and carefully place it in your lap. awwws flooded in from all sides of the table

"oh you are just so adorable jack, thank you so much." you said as you pinched his still slightly chubby cheek "you are just the kindest, sir." you playful tone cause jacks entire face to blush and he shyly walked over to take a seat next to you.

"what? you take my job, and now you don't even want to sit next to me?" hotch spoke up from you other side. jack knew his father was joking, but he still bashfully giggled, sinking a bit more into his seat

"you better be careful, hotch," derek spoke up from across the table, motioning to his former boss with a breadstick, "looks like you got some competition there."

everyone broke out into more laughter, especially aaron. in the midst of the hysterics, the once-stoic man's hand crept into your lap to hold your own, thumbing over the back of your hand and the beautiful engagement ring wrapped around your finger. you shared a glance while you both laughed before you looked over to jack. wordlessly, your hand suddenly hopped up to ruffle up the little boy's hair, causing him to scrunch up his nose and giggle even more.

but you didn't have to say anything, your eyes held the truth. love. jack continued to look up at you, feelings of warmth, joy, and safety draped over him like a fuzzy throw, covering him from the crown of his head to the tips of his fingers and toes. he knew that with you in his life now, besides him and his father, everything would be okay.

A/N: SCREAMING how was this anon? sorry i didn't delve into the team teasing hotch more bc these thoughts were swimming in my head and i NEEDED to get them down perhaps i could do another post of just teasing quotes if that's something you'd like! i got a few ideas swimmin already teehee i hope you enjoyed my love!!

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader

[astraystayyh]

Orange

hyunjin x reader. childhood friends to lovers. implied soulmates. hyune's pov.

this is the prequel & sequel to you're in the wind, i'm in the water. you need to read the prev fic first to understand how hyunjin and mc confessed to one another!!

this is very self indulgent but it's also my bd gift so i get a pass hehe also a tribute to one of my fav love languages which is peeling an orange for someone :')

based on Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey,, so highly recommend listening to it while reading :)) feedback is appreciated as always <333

i'm on the run with you my sweet love

The beige sand warms the soles of your feet as you and Hyunjin run along the shore. His parents sit by a towel, watching you with idle curiosity as you’re propelled forth by the brisk winds; and a sense of feedom only found in the tender hearts of children.

Hyunjin doesn’t know where you’re taking him. He didn’t question you when you entwined your fingers with his before running away, your footprints etched upon the sandy canvas. His sole attention was on your clammy hand, tightly clasping his.

Hyunjin didn’t yet understand what it meant to crave the hand of someone in yours, for it to feel natural for fingers to hold one another. He was only seven. What does one really know at this age?

But he knew that he was drawn to grand things. The beauty of fireworks as they unfold in the sky, dazzling colors rivaling the hues of sunsets. To the towering sunflowers his mother takes him to see, so tall their petals almost seem to be reaching for the sun’s embrace. To the full moon and the way it hangs close to earth, as if yearning to enter our horizon, to sink into the soil and rest.

But in that moment, as he watched your gleeful smile, the blush tinting your cheeks as you tugged him along, a different amazement grew within his soul. It was quiet, it was soft, it didn't overwhelm his seven-years-old heart. It was enough.

You finally stop by a rock, settling in the sand with your hair fanning around you like a halo. Hyunjin hovers over you, his tentative gaze tracing your features, trying to pinpoint what had made that peculiar feeling pour over his body, like candle wax finally meeting its destined mold.

He doesn't find an answer, only your kind smile as you tap the place near you. You were giddy, as if you had run far when his parents remained mere meters away.

Hyunjin had noticed this urge in you to flee, to wander, always. He didn't know what it means. He thought that perhaps you didn't know either. He wondered if you'd ever run away from him. The question burned the tip of his tongue.

"Will we always run together?" Hyunjin suddenly asks, kneeling to meet your eyes.

"If you want to," you shrug. "Will you run away with me when we're older?"

"Where to?" he asks, a note of apprehension coloring his tone.

"I don't know. We'll know later."

"Okay."

"You pinky promise?"

"I do," Hyunjin entwines his pinky with yours, before leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. He avoids your eyes as a dusty blush cascades on his cheeks, akin to the fading pink of a sunken sunset. You giggle, reciprocating the kiss before pressing your thumbs together.

"Sealed forever," you grin, eyes disappearing into moon crescents. Your contagious happiness mirrors instantly on Hyunjin's face, his nose scrunching up in delight.

He wants to keep this smile on your face, he thinks, this intricate joy that dawns upon your features, brightening up your face, making your pinky in his feel lighter, warmer.

So, he takes out an orange from his pocket.

"Where did you get this?" you chuckle, eyes widening in delight as if presented with the world's most treasured jewel.

"A vendor gave it to me," he shrugs, handing it to you.

Your thumb punctures the tangerine's thick skin, making the fruit’s juice drip down your hands. You attempt to peel it but the skin breaks instantly, falling into the sand.

"Here, let me," Hyunjin offers, taking the orange from your hands, peeling it for you.

A strange warmth slowly spreads through his being, akin to tree roots anchoring onto the soil, to the unfurling of petals on the first day of spring. It feels good, for some reason, to do this mundane task for you.

This newfound feeling only solidifies when you smile brightly at him, breaking the fruit into two halves and handing one part to Hyunjin.

You no longer look like you want to run. You look content here, simply sharing an orange with him.

Hyunjin suddenly wants to buy you a whole crate of tangerines. Maybe even a farm of it- just trees upon trees that he can plant for you. He chases the thought away, he's only seven, he doesn't have money, where would he even store the oranges?

Hyunjin didn't have the answer to this question, nor the million ones swirling in his mind. But he knew your smile, the kindness in your eyes, the lingering scent of oranges on his fingers, even after washing his hands. And the word that sat heavy on his soul, from that night forth.

Hyunjin knew he loved you when he was seven years old.

there is nothing wrong contemplating God; under the chemtrails over the country club

"Found you," Hyunjin whispers, reclining on the rooftop near you.

"Wasn't hiding from you," you respond just as softly, your gaze fixed on the turquoise sky overhead. Your words cause Hyunjin's heart to swell within his chest, growing, expanding, pushing against his ribs, yearning to escape and splatter at your feet.

His emotions were always so grand- his happiness consuming his entire being, the sadness, the loneliness rattling his bones with an invincible cold. Then the love for you, not in dependence, the way the planets orbit around the sun. But with choice, because he wants to, craves being near.

"What are you doing?" he asks after a while, his voice slightly hoarse.

"Watching the chemtrails," you point out a tiny plane leaving a white trail in the sky.

"It looks so far away," he whispers in wonder, and you hum with a melancholic expression. Hyunjin curls his hand into a fist, resisting the urge to smooth the delicate frown etched on your brows.

"Didn't you like your birthday celebration?" he finally asks. He knows the answer before you quietly say, 'yes.' You were never one for the chic attire, the fine china and polished silverware reflecting the guests fake smiles. You only ever came to the country club for Hyunjin.

"I just... these people are here for me, supposedly. And yet, I feel so invisible downstairs. I bet no one even noticed my absence."

"I did," he replies instantly, contradicting you vehemently, wanting to dispel the shadows that cloud your mind. "And... I brought you an orange," he adds, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It grows when you beam at him, the chemtrails momentarily forgotten.

"Did you?"

"Mm, here," he swiftly peels the fruit for you, instinctively breaking it into two halves.

"I'm sixteen and I don't know how to peel a tangerine because of you," you giggle, biting into one part eagerly. Water dribbles down the side of your mouth, and Hyunjin delicately wipes it away, his hand cradling your jaw gently.

His heart beats wildly, drowning out the country club's orchestra. He's never been this close to you, noses nearly bumping into one another.

"Don't learn how to," he whispers, licking his lips nervously. He hopes you can't feel the tremor in his hand as it slides down your cheek.

"Why?"

"Then you won't need me anymore," he says honestly, and your eyes widen at his words. Say it, his heart pleads, I can't contain this love anymore. Hyunjin shakes his head, silencing his own thoughts. He'll make room for it; his heart will expand, even if it means bursting at the seams. He can't face your rejection.

"Can I ask you something?" you say after a while, still as close to him.

"Anything."

"Do you ever feel like you don't belong anywhere? You have friends and family, but you feel like..."

"Nobody's son?" he suggests.

"Yeah, nobody's daughter."

"Maybe we're not meant to belong to anyone else but ourselves."

"Isn't that sad?" you ask, bringing an orange wedge to Hyunjin's mouth. "What if I don't always have myself?"

"Well, you'll always have me."

"Do you promise me?" you ask eagerly, eyes wide, tone almost desperate.

"I promise." The fog dissipates, light spilling over your face once again.

"Even though you're so sought after?" you giggle.

"I'm not!"

"You are! Everybody wanted to talk to you downstairs. You're always the man of the hour," you wink, lying down on the floor once again.

"Really? I didn't notice," he says, settling next to you.

"Mm, you never notice anything," you sigh, resting your cheek atop his shoulder.

It's quiet again, save for the tranquil sound of your breaths. Your eyes are trained on the sky, following the path of each plane.

"They look really tiny."

"Maybe we're the small ones," you muse.

Hyunjin doesn't agree. Not when his love for you feels almost ancient, drawn from the depths of the very first fountain of love. It has stayed with him for nine years, intermingled with the very molecules of his being. You can't be small when what he feels for you is grander than the world.

"Maybe we are," he says as he slides an arm underneath your back, pulling you closer to his chest.

"Hyune," you call out softly.

"Mm?" he hums in reply.

"What do you think you're made for?"

I'm here to love you, he wants to say, achingly, fully, on your grand days and your small ones. To fall apart at the altar of your soul and to rise anew, by you, for you. To be yours.

"I'm here to peel you oranges." He whispers instead, his confession, for now.

"And I'm here to eat them, then."

we laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool; it's beautiful how this deep normality settles down over me

"Did you know you have a straight trail of moles on your back?" Hyunjin whispers, his cool breath akin to a gentle zephyr.

"It starts here," he bestows a tender kiss beneath your shoulder blade, as if marking the start of a constellation. "Then you have another one here," his lips brush against your skin, coaxing forth delicate goosebumps, like ripples on a moonlit pond. "And here," he trails down your spine, his mouth weaving a trail only he can see. "And a final one here," he lingers longer near the last mole, lips meeting your lower back delicately, akin to the tender graze of a feather.

If you had told Hyunjin that he would freely kiss your moles, hands trailing down your skin scented with chlorine and vanilla, he would have thought you were insane. But now he has you, because you want him too, against all odds. Hyunjin wasn't alone in his love; every emotion in your soul mirrored his own. Two sides of the same coin. Two halves of the same tangerine.

"And then... it wraps around your stomach," he flips you around until you face him, giddy giggles escaping your lips. "You see it? It goes right here, another straight line," he whispers in wonder, tracing over the moles on your skin as if in worship. There is so much he longs to articulate, words yearning to spill from his mouth. He realizes he can say them now, drape them over your body like a blanket knitted with love.

"Someone plucked stars and arranged them on your skin. You're a galaxy on your own, you know that right? So beautiful," he whispers, eyes wide in adulation, raking over each feature of yours, so much they're seared behind his eyelids. The only sight he sees when he goes to sleep.

"So are you," you smile, hands gently cradling his cheeks. Hands that held him at age seven, then eight, ten, thirteen, and twenty. Hands that dried his tears, patted his back, and played with his hair. Hands that are much more sacred than his own.

"No, you don't understand," he hovers over you, gently smoothing down your hair. "You're so beautiful, so much it dizzies me, consumes me. You consume me, entirely, and I-" He sucks in a deep breath as you smile lovingly, reassuringly.

"I know," you say. "I feel it too."

"I can't believe this is real," he shakes his head, thumb tracing your lower lip gently. "I didn't even plan on confessing when i brought you to this pool. And yet... it feels natural for us to be this way."

You nod, grinning. "Like we belong to one another."

"I told you I'd stay," his eyes soften, capturing you with the same tenderness as always, savoring every part of you.

"You always keep your promises," you smile, hand sliding down the nape of his neck, smoothing a stubborn tuft of hair.

Normal, that's the elusive term he was looking for. It is normal for him to hold you, to kiss you, to look into your eyes and find love swimming in your irises. It is the way it's supposed to be between you. He couldn't ever think of another outcome.

His eyes trail down to your arm, where two moles match perfectly with his, down to the placement, the space separating them both.

"Is this where we kissed each other the most in our past lives?" he trails off, knuckles brushing against your arm gently. You mirror his touch.

"So you believe we're soulmates?"

"Mm, I've always known."

"And why didn't you tell me?" you grin, tilting your head to the side.

"I peeled you tangerines."

His words seem to ignite something within you, memories of each time he peeled you oranges flooding back. Every birthday, each time you were sad, every time the fruit was near.

You stand up, straddling Hyunjin's lap, and then you kiss his eye mole, then the one on his cheek, trailing down his jaw mole, his neck, his arms.

"What are you doing?" he giggles, warm hands on your lower back.

"Making sure those moles show up in our next life too."

And at your words, Hyunjin swore that the citrusy scent of tangerines suddenly wafted in the air.

washing my hair, doing the laundry, late night TV i want you only

Your legs are comfortably propped on top of Hyunjin's, matching pairs of beige pajamas seamlessly merging into one another. The sweet scent of shampoo lingers in the air—a fragrance Hyunjin carefully massaged into your hair twenty minutes ago, his fingers still as gentle as they grazed your scalp, now at the age of twenty-six.

Nearly two decades later, Hyunjin still knows that he loves you. It is a different one from the love he felt at seven—a metamorphosis akin to the moon's phases, from crescent to full, distinct yet continuous. It clung to his being, melted into the very essence of his soul.

"Just how many white shirts do you own?" you giggle, folding another pair of Hyunjin's clothing, the melody of your laughter still rattling the insides of his heart. He smiles sheepishly, planting a tender kiss on your forehead before responding, "You wear half of them with me."

"Your clothes are mine. You agreed on this when you proposed to me," you state matter-of-factly.

"And what else did I agree on?" he smiles, placing two pairs of matching socks in the basket—yours and his.

"That you'd kiss me instead of doing the laundry," you say mischievously, and he chuckles, tilting his head back. The clothes are momentarily forgotten as he lowers your body onto the couch, one hand cradling your head.

"You know I can't say no to you," he smiles, left dimple appearing as it always does when you're near.

"I know," you grin, pulling him down by the hem of his pajamas, your lips meeting his.

Hyunjin still kisses you with the same quiet passion, slowly, as if rediscovering you all over again. His hand cradles your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek gently, as his lips find yours again and again—rosy, plump, seeking solace in your familiar warmth.

He's always been drawn to mysteries, grand things, and overwhelming emotions that defy comprehension. Things he'd never fully know, things he'd never be bored of. Yet, with you, it's different; he knows you, he's learned you, and he loves you more every day—purposefully, by choice, because he can't fathom a reality where he doesn't.

His lips press upon yours one last time before he pulls you onto his lap, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "You smell nice," he whispers.

"I smell like you."

"I know," he smiles, a gentle breeze escaping his lips and caressing your skin.

He closes his eyes, savoring the quietness, the domesticity of the scene—the folded laundry on the table, the background hum of the TV, the meal you'll cook later, waltzing under the fridge's light. You, the one love of his life—the small love and the grand one, the first love and the last one. The embodiment of it all.

Your arms drape around his shoulders as you relax in his hold, your breaths syncing into a tranquil rhythm. He's built himself a home in the ridges of your collarbones, a place for him to rest in the crook of your shoulder blade. Both of you are okay, both of you are safe.

"Do you remember when we were seven? We traveled together for the first time," you speak after a while, a weighty emotion enveloping your voice.

"I do."

"You promised me we'd run away when we grow older."

"I did."

"I don't want to run anymore. I'm content with you, right here," you whisper, and the words feel like sunflowers blooming in Hyunjin's chest. "I was so scared of growing up, of never feeling like I belong. To myself, to anyone. But I do, with you."

"Always," he pulls away, bringing your hand to his mouth, leaving sweet kisses on your ring finger.

"Thank you, my Hyune," you say, tears gathering in your eyes like morning dewdrops on leaves. "Thank you for peeling my oranges."

Your nose brushes against his, his thumb drawing circles on your palm.

"Thank you for pretending you don't know how to."

#stray kids reactions #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz fanfic #hwang hyunjin x you #hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #stray kids fanfic

[the-well-known-scout]

A Bride in the Eyes of Some

Tywin Lannister X Reader Fic 🦁

-

(nsfw!)

“The Lady (Y/N) Lannister”, a title that ran through your mind and rang in your ears as you heard it.

You felt a certain disdain run down your spine that day, a rattle in your soul like no other. The announcement was a shocking one to you, remembering the day you were declared as the newest woman to Tywin Lannister. You remembered the wedding, how he didn’t share more than the hardest of pecks on your cheek as the Septon declared you man and wife. You remember the silence, the groaning and worn down creaking of the bed of your wedding night. You forced yourself to like it, you forced yourself to muster out pseudo-moans as Lannister-bred seed poured into you. You forced yourself to embrace your life as a vessel for blonde-haired children, with eyes as green as emeralds with a stiff lip. He’d never love you like he loved Joanna, you would never replace the whole in his heart she left behind. You would never be his love, you’d never be her. Or so, you thought.

Over time, you had learned to navigate the Red Keep, you learned to navigate the people that resided there. And you especially learned to navigate your lord husband, of Tywin. At times you didn’t have much to go off of, a grunt or a mumble underneath his breath damning something to the Seven Hells. His cunning mind and how it worked its’ way around the realms of politicking and pursuits of power. It intimidated you, it made you question yourself and your intelligence. Which you knew for sure, was a purposeful act. You needed to be on his time, you needed his mind, or he’d cast you away as useless. You learned to keep your distance at times, the Great Lion a man you didn’t dare to want to upset. You kept your interactions to a tee, never wanting to overbear him with what he viewed as “imperfections”. He only needed you when he called you, whether it be an execution of such schemes, or to warm his bed. He didn’t love to embrace your flesh, you imagine he thought of Joanna as he rocked you against the sheets. But you were wrong in that behalf, at least, as he grew used to you.

To most of Westeros, and even his own flesh and blood, Tywin was a lonely, bitter soul that threw back at the world what it gave to him; ten times as harsher. A cold, calculating man that cared for the benefit of him and him alone. But, he remained gentle with you, becoming more than a means of his lust. He was as delicate as he could be, being the Great Lion of The Rock. A softer stare in your direction rather than the cold, brutish one he darted to his enemies, or even the politest of terms when he speaks of you. You could listen to the words “lady-wife” roll off of his tongue all day and into the darkest of nights. He learned to tolerate your differentiating antics over time, finding them rather comical as he grew to know you more. How you interacted with servants among the Rock, to how passionate you grew about something you were determined for. You watched as a connection blossomed between you two, no longer the glacial silence that you both slept through, begging for one of you to find the courage to speak.

He would watch you as you read in bed with him, occasionally making a few notes and sneers about your posture. He would poke at the Old Valaryian books you insisted to put your nose in, laughing at your naïveté of the past. You were on guard at first, ready to bite back at whatever you felt was an insult until you realized it. He was talking to you, he was jeering with you. He was loving you. What stared off as the burden of your existence, the dread you wished to hide from as you laid next to him, become passionate. You were making love to Lord Tywin Lannister. No longer hid pathetic tears you held back, became moaning, a desperation for flesh you shared.

You daydreamed of how he rocked your hips atop of him, his grunting and slight-growling. He never said much during the act of fervoring your cunt onto him, but he didn’t need to. You would have his children, you would make his heirs, hopefully to turn out better than the three he was given. He was strong enough to place you how he saw fit, whether it be upon your knees, lying on your back and holding onto your ankles, or below him. He wanted you to worship him, every inch and fold of his skin he gave to you. At times, he’d whap you across the bottom, leaving warm spots from where his hands struck. At other times, he would have you on your knees, pulling you by the shoulder back to the gracious inches he gave to you. Tywin’s hands were some of the most dangerous pair within Westeros, hands you were not exempt from in the bed. And he would fuck you, until he grew tired, or had had you well-filled with enough loads of his seed to give him an entire line of Lannisters.

As his seed would pool out of you when you turned over to find a smidgen of rest, you would feel him. A singular hand wrapped around you, his head not too far from your shoulder. It was no longer the political prison you so desperately wanted to escape, it was love. Love of the highest points, love that stretched from The Rock to Dorne. A love that could never be taken away from you. A love that would be seen and heard among the Gods and men, new and old. And a love, you would never want out of.

#game of thrones #got #asoiaf #tywin x reader #tywin lannister #tywin lannister x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #got x reader #house lannister #cersei lannister #jaime lannister #casterly rock

[bangchansdirty-slut]

"Not Too Old For Me"

Paring: Parents Bestfriend!Lee know x Bottom Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Y/n arrives at her family's vacation home for winter break to find a surprise in their pool.

More: Masterlist

A/n: I just finished my Yeonjun x Bottom Fan!Reader fic. I'll post it later today when I'm less busy.

The crisp winter air nipped at Y/n's nose as she stepped out of the car, her breath forming tiny clouds in front of her face. She stretched her arms overhead, feeling the familiar weight of her luggage dig into her shoulders. The warm vacation home, nestled at the foot of the snow-capped mountains, beckoned her with its inviting glow. She glanced around, taking in the serene winter landscape before her. It was just like she remembered.

But what she didn't remember was her parents inviting one of their friends, Lee Minho, to stay with them for the holidays. As she unloaded her suitcase onto the porch, she couldn't help but wonder why they'd done such a thing. It wasn't as if they were close friends or anything.

Shrugging it off, she made her way inside, removing her coat and boots by the door. The warmth of the house enveloped her like a comforting embrace, driving away the last traces of the cold air. She could hear laughter coming from the living room, where her parents were having a glass of wine with Minho. He was a tall, handsome man in his mid-thirties, with a charming smile and an air of confidence that seemed to draw people to him.

With a sigh, Y/n headed upstairs to her room to unpack. She glanced out the window as she passed by and caught a glimpse of Minho, his muscles glistening with water as he stepped out of the pool. Her heart skipped a beat as he turned around, revealing his perfectly toned backside. Suddenly, she felt a strange thrill coursing through her veins. This was going to be an interesting vacation indeed.

After putting away her clothes, she slipped into a revealing black swimsuit and made her way downstairs. The backyard was huge, with a pool and plenty of lounge chairs scattered around. As she stepped into the pool, the cool water enveloped her body, making her gasp. It felt so refreshing after being cooped up inside for so long. She swam a few laps, enjoying the freedom of the water, before deciding to lie down on one of the loungers to soak up some sun.

A few minutes later, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Minho emerging from the house. He was still shirtless, his chest glistening with droplets of water. He smiled at her, revealing a set of perfectly straight white teeth. "Hey, Y/n. Mind if I join you?" he asked, sitting down in the lounger next to hers.

She felt a rush of heat spread through her body at his proximity. "Uh, no, I guess not," she managed to reply, her voice sounding a little shaky. He leaned closer to her, his arm brushing against hers, and the air between them seemed to crackle with electricity. For a moment, she considered trying to seduce him, to see where things might go. But then she remembered her parents would be gone for two days, leaving them alone together…and that thought sent a thrill of excitement coursing through her.

Minho must have sensed her nervousness, because he smiled reassuringly and patted her leg. "It's okay, I won't bite. Relax and enjoy the sun." As he spoke, his hand lingered on her thigh, sending tingles up her spine. She could feel her heart racing and her breath coming faster. This was dangerous territory, but she couldn't seem to help herself. She wanted to explore where this attraction was leading.

The next few hours passed in a haze of swimming and flirting. Y/n's parents had already left to get Y/n's sister from boarding school. They talked about everything from movies to travel, and Y/n couldn't help but feel drawn to him. His eyes were piercing and intense, and when he smiled at her, it felt like the sun had come out from behind a cloud. They even shared a few intimate moments, their bodies pressed tightly together as they kissed beneath the warm summer sun.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the pool and the surrounding landscape, Minho suggested they move inside. He led her through the house and into the Minho's bedroom, where they collapsed onto the bed, their bodies still wet from the pool. "Y/n, are you sure you want to do this. I'm twice your age. Aren't I too old for you?"

Y/n looks at Minho and says "I'm sure. You are not too old for me." He began to kiss her neck, his lips trailing Lower and Lower, while his hands explored her body, caressing and teasing. She arched her back, wanting more, needing him to touch her.He pulled away for a moment, his eyes meeting hers. "Do you trust me?" he whispered. She nodded, her heart racing. He smiled, his hand moving Lower still, until it was cupping her bare breast. He squeezed gently, rolling her nipple between his fingers. She let out a moan, her hips pressing against his hand. He leaned in, taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking softly as his other hand moved Lower still, slipping between her legs. She cried out as he found her already wet, her body trembling with desire.

His fingers moved in a rhythm that was both familiar and new, as if he knew exactly how to touch her, how to make her lose control. She arched her back off the bed, her nails digging into his shoulders as she came undone beneath his touch. She could feel the heat rising within her, spreading through her body like wildfire. He continued to stroke her, his fingers moving faster and faster, until she felt a second, even more intense orgasm building deep inside her.

As she neared the brink, he pulled his fingers away, leaving her aching for more. "You're so wet, Y/n," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. He rolled onto his knees, positioning himself between her spread legs. She gasped as she felt the head of his erection pressing against her entrance. He looked down at her, his eyes dark and intense, and slowly, carefully, he pushed inside. She cried out as he filled her, the sensation of being so completely joined with him overwhelming her senses.

He began to move, his hips meeting hers in a rhythm that was both gentle and demanding. He leaned down, capturing one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking as he thrust deeper. She arched her back, moaning loudly as their bodies moved together, the sounds of their passion echoing through the room.

As they became lost in the sensation of being joined, the last vestiges of daylight faded away, replaced by the warm glow of the lamps. The air in the room seemed to hum with anticipation as they explored each other's bodies, their movements growing more urgent and intense. Minho's thrusts became deeper, harder, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to control the building urgency within him.

Y/n arched her back, her fingernails digging into his shoulders as she met his every stroke. She felt herself getting closer, the pressure building inside her, demanding release. With a cry that seemed to come from the depths of her soul, she came, her body convulsing beneath him as waves of pleasure washed over her. Minho followed close behind, his eyes squeezed shut, his back arching as he emptied himself deep inside her.

They lay tangled together on the bed, their breath coming in ragged gasps, their hearts racing. Minho rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at her. "That was… incredible," he murmured, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. Y/n couldn't help but return the smile, feeling a sense of warmth and contentment spread through her.

"I've never… I've never felt anything like that before," she confessed, her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss before replying, "Neither have I." They lay there for several long moments, lost in the afterglow of their passion, the world around them fading away as they basked in the glow of their connection.

As their breathing began to steady, Minho propped himself up on an elbow, gazing down at her. "Do you want to take a shower?" he asked, running a finger lightly down her cheek. She nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. He smiled reassuringly, then rolled off the bed and onto his feet. He extended a hand to help her up, and she took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

The walk to the bathroom was a surreal experience as if they were in a bubble, the world around them fading away. He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until it was just right, then helped her step under the spray. The warm water cascaded down over them, washing away the sweat and the traces of their passion.

#bangchansdirty-slut #lee minho #lee know #minho x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader smut #lee know x reader smut #lee know smut #lee minho smut #minho smut #lee minho x reader #lee minho x reader smut #stray kids #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know

[natsarrownecklacx]

Cruelty Is An Art Form Pt. 4

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count- 4,722

Summary- Your the daughter of one of New York’s most known Mob leaders. Unfortunately, you’ve caught the attention of New York’s most feared Mob leader, Natasha Romanoff.

Warnings- 18+ fic, minors DNI, Smut, Mean Mob Nat, Mentions of killing, confusing relationships dynamics/ feelings, descriptions of violence (noting too bad)

Series Masterlist

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

If a few days ago you had even a fleeting thought that you might be in this situation right now you would have admitted yourself for a voluntary seventy two hour hold. Natasha Romanoff, THE Natasha Romanoff, the mob boss, mass serial killer, ruthless, cold hearted woman that she is, just introduced you to her “babushka’ as her finance.

Eh, no. No thank you. This has been quite enough insanity for one bad dream. You’d like to wake up now. Be back in your home in your nice, warm and comfortable bed with your favorite stuffie, the one you’ve had since you were thirteen years old, tucked between your arms and your chest, holding the bear close to your heart where it belongs. Giving you every ounce of comfort you will need once you wake from this nightmare any moment now.

Seconds pass and you just stand there in shock. Unmoving. Not saying a word.

For the other two people in the room the whole thing is a little awkward. You, however, are simply waiting until your brain decides to stop having a stroke and wake you from this madness.

Any second now. Just gonna wake up. With everything but subtlety you bring your left hand to your right forearms and pinch. Hard. You wince slightly at the pain but that's it. Nothing else happens. Not waking up? Okay then.

Natasha clears her throat and snaps you from your panicked state of delusion. Damnit. Why couldn’t you be dreaming.

You look to the redhead, the question of what the fuck is going on right at the tip of your toung ready to be unleashed. Natasha only has to raise her brow at you, daring you to open your mouth, to shut you up.

You let your mouth fall closed and you instinctively swallow your words, nodding vaguely in submission before turning your sights on the other, older, women in the room. You smile at her apologetically and do your best to smooth things over. “Hi.” You say, more awkwardly then you would have hoped to. So you clear your throat again. “Sorry. I’m just a little nervous.” You mumble, whipping your now sweaty hands on your pants.

“It’s so nice to meet you, dear.” The older woman says softly and you can see in her smile that she is doing her best to reassure you. She waddles toward you, well, more to do the old woman shuffle, and although you have no reason to fear her, you have to resist the urge to take a step back.

If the older woman notices your tense posture she chooses not to act on it, which you are grateful for, because the second she puts her arms around you in a warm embrace you feel the tightness in your chest ease. You all but melt in her comforting embrace and for a slip second it

makes you forget about the situation you're in.

It's the first time since you left that bar that you feel almost completely at ease. A tear wells up in your eye as you think of it, as you let yourself have this comfort. You might have even let that tear fall, let it track its way down your face as a sign of your exhaustion with the whole situation and the fear you feel.

But Natasha is looking at you with a tilt to her head, a curious look in her eyes and a soft smile on her lips. It almost looks as if she likes that you and her grandmother are getting along. Disgusting. If there was one thing in this life that you would absolutely NOT be doing, it would be causing that evil woman to smile that way. As if something inside her cold, dead, void of a heart might actually start beating again.

You glare at the woman and turn your face away, unable to look at her stupid green eyes anymore.

“It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am.” You say, pulling away from the embrace but the older woman keeps you in her grasp, her hands holding your forearms loosely.

“Oh please.” The woman scoffs lightheartedly, as if the two of you knew each other well. “Call me Galina. We are going to be family after all, are we not.”

You let out a nervous chuckle at her words, hoping for your sake that it sounds more like a genuine laugh. “I… suppose we are.” You smile at her, not completely hating the idea of being related to the woman, but her granddaughter? You’d rather sleep on a bed with nails then tie yourself to that woman in such a way.

Galina, gives your arms a comforting squeeze, sending you another smile before pulling away and moving in the direction of the living room. She stops just as she passes Natasha and reaches out to squeeze her arm, similarly to how she did yours.

“I like her, Natalia.” She says, in an approving manner. “She’s nice and very polite.” She leans in closer then, as if telling her granddaughter a secret. “And she’s very pretty.”

You smile at the woman bashfully for her comment, your eyes drifting from her to the redhead beside her when you feel green eyes looking at you.

“Yeah.” Natasha says, her eyes locked on you and looking strangely soft as she does. “She really is, isn't she.”

You blush at Natasha’s words and try to taper down the surge of self loathing you feel at the uncontrollable reaction you have to her. You suddenly find the floor very interesting and decide to examine the tile in favor of keeping your eyes away from the woman.

Galina pats Natasha on the arm then and shuffles off to the living room as if nothing had happened. Natasha waits for her granny to be out of the room before turning to you, one brow raised and a shit eating grin on her face as she takes in the sight of your blush tinted cheeks. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t really have to. She seems to have this natural talent to annoy you without even saying a word.

She opens one arm out and gestures toward the hall Galina had disappeared down, silently commanding you to follow her. You narrow your eyes at the widow, making yourself look as annoyed with her as you can, while still trying to tamper down the red on your face. Wordlessly, you brush past her, making sure not to look at her and follow Galina into the living room.

———————

Natasha is sitting next to you on the couch, nearly on top of you with how close she is, her hand resting comfortingly, or threateningly, on your thigh. She’s leaning her side into yours, an easy, natural laugh passing her lips every so often and a permanent smile on her face.

Sometimes she runs her thumb over your thigh or squeezes the plush skin softly in her hold. You can’t help but let your eyes drift to the action each time, nor can you help it when your eyes drift to her face right after, or the immediate frustration you feel when you see that she’s already looking at you, an unfamiliar look on her face. Then, seconds later, a sly smile slides its way over her lips. Every. Single. Time.

Oh what you wouldn’t give to be able to just reach your hands up and whip that self assured, cocky look off her face. To just grab her and bash her head against the table. Harshly. Repeatedly. Until either she, or the table, breaks.

It seems as though your brain, all sides, rational and irrational, want the same thing and have decided to work against you for that common goal, because without even realizing it you’ve raised your hands to cup Natasha’s face. Her dark green eyes widen a fraction, her brows shooting up almost into her hairline.

You can see the confusion and intrigue swimming in her eyes. Dammit. You get lost in those graphic thoughts from seconds ago, staring into Natasha’s eyes. You could just tighten your hold on her and give her a good smack against the table in front of you. Or the back of the couch. Or your knee if you angled it just right. Or-

Natasha’s eyes slip closed, her head turning to nuzzle into your left hand and oh god. Why does she look so adorable right now? Without even realizing it you’d begun to rub your thumbs across her cheeks in a soothing motion. Your bodies are both turned to face each other fully, how did that happen, when did that happen.

You want to stop. You should stop. But she looks so comfortable, so content. A thought crosses your mind, when’s the last time anyones held her like this? And your heart cracks just a little, the solid ball of hatred you hold for her melting, even just slightly.

“Aww look at the two of you.” Galina, coos from her seat opposite to the one you and Natasha currently occupy. “You two truly make quite the pair.”

Thank god for this woman and her comments. The old woman's words bring you back to yourself, your hands retracting from the widow's face as though her skin and physically scorched you.

You send Galina what you hope is a polite, shy smile and lean back into the couch, brushing Natasha’s hand off your thigh inconspicuously in the process.

Natasha takes a few seconds before opening her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the tingle your touch has left on her skin. When she does open her eyes she looks slightly out of it, but she doesn’t try to touch you again. She simply sits and makes polite small talk with her babushka, and sometimes you, until the woman decides to leave.

“It was lovely to meet you, dear.” Glina says, as you all stand at the front door saying your goodbyes. The old woman leans in to give you another hug, this time giving you a light squeeze as she does so.

“It was nice to meet you, Ms. Romanoff.” You say, quickly correcting yourself when you see the playful glare the old woman sends your way. “Right, Sorry. It was nice to meet you, Galina.”

The older woman pats your back in approval and pulls away smiling, making sure to send an appreciative wink your way before turning to take her granddaughter into her arms. Natasha seems to melt against the other woman, the tension in her body all but disappears the second she’s in her arms. Maybe she just has that magic effect on everyone.

The sight is almost endearing, if it didn’t spike an odd, unwelcome feeling in your chest. It makes a daunting realization fall on your shoulders with a weight you're not sure you’ve ever felt before.

Natasha is just a woman. Just a person, like you or anyone else. She’s a daughter. A granddaughter. She isn’t evil in its purest form. Not Satan made flesh. She wasn’t just dropped on this earth one day to test humanity. Yet she still commits the most heinous crimes. Kills in the most disturbing ways. Still finds art in her cruelty.

She tried to follow the warmth of your hand when you’d pulled away from her face earlier, you didn’t want to admit to yourself that you’d seen it, convinced yourself that it was a trick your eyes played on you. Because that would mean she needed something. Needed kind and gentle touch, human interaction beyond her work, her killing. Killing she enjoys, you remind yourself and push away the borderline hurt in your chest at the idea that Natasha might be touch starved.

Natasha pulls away from her grandmother after a minute and offers to drive her home herself, to “make sure she gets there safely.” There’s a smile on her face, a kind and caring one and a look in her eyes you can’t quite place. You would have never guessed her to be an attentive person, even towards her grandmother.

You have to look away from her, turning your head to the side before you can lose yourself trying any other traces of humanity in the redhead.

Natasha notices the movement out of the corner of her eye but she chooses not to comment on it, instead keeping her attention on the older woman in front of her, who is now telling Natasha that she worries far too much for her safety and she will be perfectly fine with her driver.

————————————-

“Why did you tell your grandmother we’re engaged?” You ask the second Natasaha comes back from walking her grandmother to the car, the door barely closed fully behind her.

Natasha sighs and leans her forehead against the cool glass of the door. She takes a deep breath, counting to ten in her head and trying to stave off the irritation she feels at your question. She turns from the door toward you, her eyes catching on the way your arms have crossed protectively over your chest, causing your breasts to peek out over your top.

“Natasha?” You push, snappily and Natasha has to yet again swallow her irritation in favor of keeping on your good side. Or as close to your good side as she can get. All she really needs is for you to be compliant, to not cause a fuss or get any ideas of running away. That would cause far too much of a headache then she could handle right now. But she wants more than that, so she has to behave herself, at least as much as she can. She does still have to teach you a lesson on teasing her though.

She wants to tell you exactly that. That you should just stop talking and get on your knees. Put your mouth to better use and fix her building frustrations by burying your tongue between her legs.

But in all honesty right now she’s a little too caught up in the fact that you’ve just said her name. Just let it roll off your tongue as if it's the most natural thing in the world. God what she wouldn’t give to hear you say it in much different circumstances. Though you do look cute being all mad at her, a downward, almost pouting lilt to your lips, your brows furrowed and your arms crossed over each other in a defensive stance.

Instead she lets an easy, teasing smile slider over her face. She watches amusedly as your eyes narrow at her, as if knowing she wasn’t about to give you any form of straight answer.

“Why were you so quick to play along, Angel?” She taunts, taking a teasing step toward you. “Do you like the idea of being my wife?” You visibly gulp at her words and a hot feeling flares in her stomach as she watches you falter and take a step back.

“What? No.” You answer, a consciously added tone of disgust in your voice as you watch her continue her stalk toward you and you continue to walk blindly back.

“See, I think you're lying, pretty girl.” She says, a lilt to her voice that makes you think she’s doing more than just teasing now, she’s daring you to disagree, challenging you to prove her wrong.

Your back hits a wall and your breath catches in your throat. You watch, frozen, as a sinister smile slides onto Natasha’s face, a borderline ravenous look in her eyes as she slowly takes you in, her tongue swiping over her lips, wetting them as if preparing to press them to something, anything, in a few moments. You don’t know if you want her to or not.

“I think you love the idea of being my pretty little wife.” She’s standing in front of you now, less than a shaky breath away, her chin tilted down slightly to be able to look you in the eye.

She leans forward, her hand landing with a silent thud against the wall right next to your head, the other hand makes its way from your thigh up tp your hip, starting out as a light touch, her finger tips barley grazing your skin, only for her hold to tighter, possessively, wantingly, when she finds the dib of your hip.

“You're delusional.” You bite back, having just about enough of this woman. She doesn’t get to force you into these situations and then tell you it's what you want, nor does she get to call you a liar for denying her.

“Oh?” She taunts, moving forward more, her body now mere inches from yours, effectively changing you in. “So you wouldn’t like to be my pretty little stay at home wife.” She raises her brow questioningly, a faux skeptical look on her face. “You don’t want to have absolutely no worries? Just let me take care of everything? Take care of you?”

Natasha traces the hand on your hip back down to your thigh, hooking her fingers under your knee and pulling your leg up to rest on her hip. Your eyes widen, her actions having left you more open to her, more vulnerable.

“I could spoil you, Angel. I’d do anything for you, get anything for you. Whatever your heart desires. Say it and it's yours.”

You should look away from her, you should WANT to look away from her. Avert your eyes from her dark green eyes and her full lips, the ends of them curled into a smirk. Something in your chest screams at you to look away, take your eyes off this demoness before she swallows you whole. She has too much power already, you don’t want to give her anymore. You won’t.

But with her standing this close you can feel the heat radiating off of her, see a look in her eyes that seems something scary like genuine. She steps closer, closing the gap between you, your heart now thudding so hard in your chest you're sure she must feel it against her own.

You watch as her eyes drop to your lips for a full three seconds, her tongue swiping at her own again, before her eyes flick back to yours. She removes her hand from the wall and brings it to cup your cheek, the warmth and gentleness of it taking you by surprise. She tilts her head down more, drawing her lips closer to yours, her eyes almost pleading as she whispers, her breath fanning across your face as she does. “Let me take care of you, Angel.”

You take a sharp intake of air and the following sound that passes your lips is entirely involuntary, only you're far too swept up in her to care. You see something pass through her eyes, there and go faster then you can decipher what it is or what it means. Then again, do you really care? With her standing so close, touching you so gently, holding you like this and saying all the right things.

“Please.” You whisper back, hoping she doesn't know how much you mean it. Hoping she doesn’t catch the hint of longing and submission in your voice.

Natasha smiles and leans in to let her lips hover over your, she barely lets them touch, just grazing them before moving to trace them over the skin of your cheek, over to your ear. She smirks to herself at the noise of protest you let out, wanting her lips on yours in a more forceful way.

“What's wrong, Angel?” She asks, knowing damn well what she's doing. She moves her kisses down your neck, smirking against your skin when she feels you tilt your head back, giving her more room to work. She feels your leg held on her hip tighten against her, one of your arms up around her neck, holding her close to you and a quiet moan falls past your lips when she nips at your pulse point. She doesn’t think this can get any better for her right now.

“Natasha.” You say breathly, a hint of neediness laced through her name. “Please.”

Jesus Christ. How is she meant to go through with this now? How is she meant to pull away when she knows that's just a taste of what she’ll get if she carries on. Fuck it. She can indulge herself a little longer.

“You want it, Angel?” You nod fervently, a whine bubbling up in your throat as you push your body more against hers.

Natasha pulls away, finding a sinister satisfaction in the desperate look on your face. “Say it.” She says, already catching the hesitation in your eyes. “Say you want me to fuck you.” You swallow at her words and finally find it in you to look away from her.

Natasha however only wants your eyes on her. In one fluid motion she has her leg slotted between yours, a delicious pressure hitting your core. You moan lowly and press yourself against her, giving your hips one greedy thrust against her.

She stops you with a hand on your hips and your eyes snap back to her. “Tell me or I’ll stop.” She says firmly.

“I- I want…” You manage to say but seem to lose your voice and find yourself unable to finish your sentence.

“You want what Angel? You want me to make you come?” Natasha says, moving down to place open mouth kisses on your neck, marking you as hers. “With my fingers?” She says between kisses. “My mouth?” Another kiss. “You’d feel so good coming apart on my tongue.” You groan at her words and try to grate your hips against her.

“Would you take my strap if I asked, Angel? Let me fill you like the good girl I know you want to be for me.” Your breath hitches at her words and Natasha makes a mental note to use your apparent praise kink against you whenever she can.

“Or maybe you're happy to come as you are. Riding my thigh just like a desperate little thing. You gonna make a mess on my new pants, angel?”

“Yes.” You gasp, the pressure between your legs becoming borderline unbearable. “Please let me ride your thigh Mo- Natasha. Please let me come.”

A sinister smile slides onto Natasha’s face, her hold on your hips loosening, allowing you to move a little. “Go ahead Angel. Make yourself feel good on mommy’s thigh.”

You moan loudly at her words, wasting absolutely no time before rolling your hips against her. Natasha watches in awe as you grind yourself against her, the need between her own legs building at the sight.

She tries to move her hand from your hip but your eyes snap to her with a pleading look and your hand grabs her wrist keeping it in place. “Guide me.” You say, no trace of embarrassment at voicing your needs and Natasha can’t help the hot arousal she feels. “Please.”

“Well when you ask so politely, Angel, how am I supposed to say no.” Natasha moves both her hands to your hips, grabbing at them greedily, guiding you against her thigh. The reaction it draws from you is immediate. You push yourself harder against her, a lewd moan falling past your lip when you feel her tense her thigh beneath you.

Your hands fly to her shoulders, using her to anchor you, to pull her closer. “Feels good.” You murmur, dropping your head into the crook of her neck, face down in her shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” She answers and even though you can’t see her you know her brow is raised and a smirk rests on her face. “Is mommy making you feel good, angel.” She teases, tensing her thigh and lifting it against you while pressing you down with her hands.

You nod against her shoulder and turn your face against her neck, your hot breath hitting her sensitive skin. You whine, your left hand coming up to weave into the hair at the back of her head. You're so close. You can feel it. Natasha can feel it.

You let out a shuddering breath and Natasha knows she either has to pull herself away now or let her plan fly out the window, and with it, her vantage point. She has to teach you a lesson, she has to show you how it feels, to know that you're at least half as sexually frustrated as she is.

Her body is hot against yours, her all consuming presence both grounding and drowning you at the same time, and you're ready to let yourself fall into her completely.

She pulls away, rips herself from you and the startling cold of the now empty space where she was is altogether too sudden. You whine and reach out for her, wanting her to come back, wanting her warmth, wanting her to finish what she stated.

You look up at her through tearful eyes, the knowing, smug look on her face hitting you just as hard as the wave of cold moments ago. “Now you know how it feels.” She says, her arms hanging lazily by her sides, as though she is completely unbothered by any of this.

You don't say anything in response. You don’t even want to look at her. You turn away from her, silently and make your way toward your room, eyes trained straight ahead of you until you close and lock the door once you are inside.

You don’t see the way Natasha’s face drops. Or the way she moves to reach out to you but ultimately decides against it.

You need a shower, a warm one. You walk toward what looks like a bathroom door, removing your close as you go, uncaring of what you'll do with yourself afterward. You open the door and just as you thought a nice, decent sized bathroom is revealed. You don’t even take the time to look it over, simply make your way toward the shower, turn the water to hot and step inside.

You need that warmth back. She took it from you too soon, you were too comfortable, too close. How could you have believed what she was saying, that she would take care of you? That she wanted to? How stupid could you be?

It feels wrong, everything does, you do. Having been that willing feels wrong. Missing her arms around you feels wrong. The lack of her heat feels wrong. The fact that she’s not here feels wrong.

You close your eyes and sigh. This has all gotten so confusing. You hate her, there that’s it, not so confusing. But you wanted to believe what she said. You wanted to believe that she touched you the way she did, whispered in your ear the way she did, for a reason beyond just lust or amusement.

You want her. No. Yes. You can’t. You huff, annoyed with yourself and your dumb confused brain.

You think about her, trying to make ssense of it all. You remember the way she held you, the feeling of her lips on your skin. The way you felt when she touched you, when she told you she wanted to take care of you. That she wanted you to be her wife.

You remember her hands guiding you, you remember asking her to. You remember letting yourself call her mommy, in a way you’ve never been compelled to do with anyone before. You remember the way she looked when you said it, the way she called herself it right after.

Your hands trail over your wet skin and drop between your legs, your fingers roaming warm skin until they find what they are desperate to touch.

You drop two fingers to circle your clit, letting a moan fall past your lips. You slip one finger inside, then another. You come with one hand covering your mouth, head leaning back against the cool tiled wall and two fingers buried deep inside you.

If only one thing was going to come out of it today, it would be the fact that you were now significantly less frustrated. The same couldn't be said for Natasha, who heard your moan as she was on her way to speak to you.

ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ

A/n- this took ages because I’ve genuinely been up the walls and barely been able to write 😭 hope ye like it tho

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff smut

[apollosfavkiddo]

Helloo!!! im in such a Jason Grace era these days and fics for him are SO limited in the fandom?? its actually super sad. i loved your previous jason fic smm, Would you consider making a Jason x fem!reader where Jason just has a veryy bad day, he gets overwhelmed by everything and everyone, and he just cries into reader's arms and she comforts him?

i feel like he deserved to just cry it all out atleast once, considering the amount of pressure the poor boy has had from everything :( so i would lovee to read about that!

⛧° as long as we're together °⛧

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

content: jason grace x fem!reader

warnings: angst but then it’s fluff, kinda short, cursing, 5’3 (1,60m) reader, life in New Rome!

a/n: HA LOOK WHO’S POSTING TWICE IN JUST ONE DAY???? hehehe i love this request so much my boo deserves more in his life i don’t fucking care.

⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧

Sometimes it’s just too hard to be Jason Grace.

The mighty son of Jupiter. Pontifex Maximus. Counselor of the Zeus cabin. Juno’s Champion. Hero of Omlympus. Centurion of the Fifth Cohoort.

The titles were endless. And so was the work.

And everyone, and i mean everyone, counted on him for various things and reasons.

“Hey Jason, are you coming to capture the flag?” Annabeth asked, every week.

“Hey superman, come to bunker 9!” As always, Leo wanting to show him some new cool tricks or projects.

“Oi, sparky! Can you help me pick an outfit for my date?” Piper would ask him.

He was just so tired. He just wanted to tell them all to fuck themselves.

But he would never. He was too noble to do that. He just wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he knew his friends were needing him and he was… well, being a human and an young adult, taking care of his own stuff.

So when he got home from another endless day, back to his shared apartment in New Rome and to his beautiful girlfriend, who made him his favorite dessert - brownies with caramel and peanuts -, he broke down almost instantly.

Obviously, you ran towards him, scooping him in your arms - which was a difficult task, since he was almost a whole foot taller than you - but you did it anyways, pulling him close to your body, letting him sob in your shoulder as you tried to soothe him.

You had never seen him cry like that, clinging on you for dears life. Once again, he was never one to show his real feelings to anyone, not even your or Thalia.

You scooted him in your arms, rubbing soft circles at his back while you whispered small ‘shh’s and ‘it’s gonna be okay’s in his ear, the both of you say in the floor of your cozy apartment.

After a few minutes of compulsive crying, your shoulder and the upper part of your white tank top completely soaked in hot, wet tears, he finally calmed down - at least a little.

“Hey, honey.” You finally whisper into his ear as he pulls away from your embrace, eyes all puffy and red as he sniffles and wipes his tears with the back of his hand.

“Hey..” He mumbles, his tone low and cracked as you kept caressing his hair smoothly. You caressed his hair and gave a soft and gentle kiss so his cheek.

“Are you okay?” You were answered with a soft nod of his head as he scooted closer to you, snuggling against you warm body and keeping his head on your chest. He looked like a five year old child, and that made you smile. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.. not now. Is that okay?” He asked, his voice all mushy and muffled by his cheek tightly pressed against you body.

“Of course it is, my love. Do you want to eat? We have pasta with that sauce you like.” She said between little kisses in his eyes, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose and his lips. “And i made you your favorite brownies.”

“Mmhmm…” He let out a content mumble, finally pulling away from him and giving you a kiss on the lips. “After that i… after that i’ll talk to you, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay. But you have to eat before. Come on, i’ll help you get up.” She said as she got up and held out her hand for him to grab.

You finally got on your feet, and you turned around to reheat the food. When you were at the oven, he wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing heavily as he kept the closest he could to you.

Soon, the food was on the table, and the doorbell rang. It was the girl that walked with your dog. You thanked her and pulled Thor, your golden retriever, inside the house.

He immediately went to Jason, wiggling his tail and giving him the biggest licks in the world while the blond laughed.

You smiled at the sight. You knew that he was obviously hurting with something, and you were going to discover with what, but, right now, he just needed some love.

You gave him just that, as you ate together chilling and chatting about your days, you talking more than him.

He helped you with the laundry while you washed the dishes, and the chores were finished very quickly. You went back and cuddled up on the couch, a massive ball of fur, aka your dog, resting comfortably between you two.

You heard when Jason sighed and felt his shoulders shaking, showing his impending collapse, once again. You cyy it deles him closer to you as he cried and cried. His sobs were the only thing heard in the house.

Ten minutes later, when he was calmer, you were stroking his hair in the softest way you could, making sure he would be ready to talk.

“I-i’m just so… tired. Of everything and everyone. It’s- i know it’s selfish, but i can’t help but want to just… ran away. To just stay with you and Thor and give up on the rest of the world.” He said, his words are muffled and smudgy as he holds onto you.

“I know, baby… You shouldn’t work yourself out. You’re doing too much. More than you should, and you know that. You have too much work.” She said, kissing the top of his head.

“I just- i can’t let them just, you know, alone. It’s.. i can’t.” The son of Jupiter said, crying more.

“Honey, they won’t be alone. We have Reyna and Frank and Percy and lots of other people that you can use some help from. You’re not alone. Ever.” She said, reassuringly.

“But-“

“No buts. You’re gonna take a week off, and we’re just gonna hang out here, together, with Thor. No works, no college, no Pontifex Maximus stuff. Just y/n and Jason. And that’s not a request.”

He mumbles something but snuggles closer to you. “Fine. As long as we’re together.”

a/n: i’m literally so proud of myself bro, i got to do two, TWO works today. i’m evolving boos

#postcards from leah #jason grace x reader #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace x you #percy jackson #pjo #pjo hoo toa

[danikamariewrites]

Peace

Eris x reader

Summary: A look into a normal day in the new Vanserra household

Warnings: none

A/n: HAPPY DAY 1 OF ERIS WEEK!!!! I’m so excited to share this fic with you guys. And thank you to @erisweek2023 for making this happen, you guys are awesome🧡

Once the last of Eris’ advisors left the throne room he relaxed into the chair. He needed a break. He rubbed the tiredness from his eyes and heard the door open. If the advisors were already back he was going to kill someone.

He opened his eyes and saw you walking toward him. Eris perked up smiling at the sight of you and the babe in your arms.

Your youngest daughter, Bruna, was always so content and smiley, it was just infectious. At only seven months old Bruna knew how to make her papa happy.

“My sweet girls.” Eris holds his arms open ready to embrace you both. He kisses you and looks at the babbling babe as you hand her to him. Eris bounces Bruna in his arms earning giggles from her, giving him a toothless grin.

You smile at them. They were already thick as thieves like he was with your oldest, Orla. You send a wave of love down the bond and Eris looks up at you. His face glowing with happiness.

“Where is my other sweet girl?” As if her ears were burning, your oldest, Orla, pushed into the throne room. Dressed in her training gear with her sword strapped to her back she stops in front of you and Eris. Sketching a bow to you both she breaks into a wide grin laying eyes on her sister. “Hello little sap.”

When you were pregnant Orla called Bruna a little sapling. When she was new to the world and learning her family's voices Bruna always smiled at her nickname. Orla takes her sister from her fathers arms and the girls giggle. Like they knew a secret you and Eris weren’t in on.

Eris wraps an arm around your shoulder as you look at your children. They love each other so much already it makes you both so happy. You know this puts Eris at ease as well. He’s a good father unlike Beron. Eris encouraged love, not competition and hatred, between his two girls.

Orla hands the little sapling to you and turns to her father. “I’m ready when you are papa.” Eris walks back to his throne and pulls his sword from behind the chair. “Let’s go then.” They walk away in sync as Eris straps his sword to his hip.

Orla is 17 now and Eris thought he should attend her combat training. Take the time to teach his daughter everything he knows, not just in politics but in battle. It frightens you to think your girls might one day face a war like you and Eris have seen. You pray to the Mother your children never have to fight.

Cradling Bruna, she pulls at the ends of your hair with her chubby fists. You smile at your babe and coo at her, “Should we go watch Orla and papa, huh?”

You go to stand on the balcony overlooking the courtyard where Eris and Orla train. At the sight of the pair walking out Bruna lets out a high pitched babble. Happy to have her sister and papa within eyesight again.

~~

Eris draws his sword from its sheath, checking its glint in the afternoon sunlight. Orla stretches out her arms in a warm up the weapons master has walked her through everyday.

He smiled at his daughter. She was becoming a formidable warrior and he wanted to be there with her on this journey.

“So,” Eris started, taking up a fighting stance, “shall we begin?” Orla grinned and took up a mirroring stance as she and her father began circling each other.

Eris noted her foot work was good, but there’s room for improvement.

Orla lunged, striking first. Their swords clashing and sliding off each other. “Good. You saw an opening and took it.” Eris swung and Orla dropped, rolling behind him and kicking the backs of his knees.

He stood, facing Orla, backing up quickly and started circling his first born again. “Do you know why I wanted you to start training?” Orla shook her head still keeping her eyes on her father, watching his every move.

“You are the oldest. Meaning you are a protector. You are your sister's protector.” Orla nodded in agreement. “Do you remember the stories about your grandfather and uncles?” “Yes papa.” The pair continue to circle.

“Then you know why it’s important for you to do this.” Eris moves to strike but Orla blocks quickly. They have a good volley going until Orla spins out, back to the edge of the makeshift ring and paces back and forth.

“Grandfather seemed like a monster.” A breathy laugh escaped Eris as he backed away. If Orla was anything, it was honest. “He’s the reason I’m doing things…differently. You and Bruna are everything to me. I want to be sure you’re both safe and loved.”

They continued their conversations and sparring for hours. You eventually went in to feed Bruna and put her down for a nap. When the pair came back to the family living quarters Eris had his arm around Orla, laughing about something that happened during training.

“Alright you, go clean up. You still have tutoring later.” Orla groaned and headed to her chambers. Once her door shut Eris plopped himself on the couch next to you.

You immediately rest your head on his shoulder, bringing your fingers to trace patterns across his clothed chest.

“Don’t you still have work to do, High Lord?” You ask teasingly. Eris chuckles and rested his head on yours. “Oh my High Lady, I can do whatever I like. And what I'd like to do is spend time with my family.”

Eris leaned back and closed his eyes. You felt him relax, his breathing soft and small smile on his face. You silently reached out to his side of the bond. Eris felt peaceful. You hadn’t felt him this peaceful in years.

You could feel his happiness. The pride he felt for his daughters and you. Leaning up on your knees you peck his cheek and rub your nose against his. “I love you, Er.” Eris pulled you into a tight embrace, taking in your calming scent. “I love you more, y/n. Thank you for everything you’ve given me.” You hug him back tighter until you hear Bruna stirring in her bassinet. You move to go comfort your daughter before she starts crying but Eris puts a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll get her, fox. You relax.”

As Eris picks up the babe he smiles and coos at her, gently rocking her against his chest. You loved moments like these with your family. They were so rare at the beginning for just you and Eris. Everything happened so fast when Beron passed, then Orla came along a few years later and finally things settled.

You and Eris had found peace together. And if you had to go through all of the hard times to get to right now again, you would.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #eris acotar #eris vanserra #erisweek2023 #eris vanserra fluff #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris fluff #high lord eris #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra x you #Eris x you

[iloveyouinred]

from your broken heart reader fic, if she turns out to be pregnant.... who is going to be the father?

𓇬♡ | Note: I would like to think that she use contraceptive, because she has an agreement with her husband to focus on pursuing her career. So she is most likely won't get pregnant. But if incident does happen, then i don't know either.. who do you think will be the father? Well let's leave it to your imagination;)

Genshin Man With Their Pregnant Wife

Ft. Diluc, Kaveh, Alhaitham, + Kaeya

Diluc, needless to say, is an overprotective husband. It got severe since the day you announced that you are pregnant to the red haired man. In his head, he instantly labels you as super fragile. Everytime you decide to stand up and walk-even to the nearest place like the bathroom -he will take you by your hand, securing it in a firm grip, as if you will fall any second. When you decided to walk under the sun, he will accompany you. Your hand in his gentle yet firm grip, and an umbrella over your head. A light rain suddenly falls? Worry not he got you covered with his coat and the previous umbrella. Though he will prefer you to be in the warmth of your shared house, relaxing yourself in a nice bath that the maid has prepared for you. You might crave a certain food, and it will be right in front of you as soon as you speak. He makes sure that you got all you need.

Diluc has always give you the princess treatment, but this time it has gone to the level where you won't need to lift a single finger. He will be doing everything for you or giving the task to the maid when he can't be by your side for some sort of important business- in which he strongly condemns to do so. Despite all that, what reassures you the most is his gentle touch, the way he secure you from any given danger- puddles on the winery garden, for one. You will catch him staring at you from time to time. Just like now when you are reading some book, wind blows your hair slightly as rays of orange highlighting your figure, he will find himself immers on this view of you. Gentle eyes and sometimes soft smile adorning his lips. Diluc feels like you might be the best thing ever happen to him. And he can't imagine his life without you in it anymore.

"Luc?" You were startled by his sudden embrace. His hand around you waist to pull you closer as he kiss the top of your head. You look up at him to see him staring back with eye full of adoration. The book you just read left forgoten on you lap as he inch closer, meeting your lips in one soft kiss. You will never love sunset more than now, indulging in your lover embrace as the sun goes down.

Kaveh will be more enthusiastic than you yourself. First time you tell him you are pregnant he will be overjoyed with tears. It's like you two are an old couple who haven't been blessed by a child for years. It's not an exaggeration. You need to tell him to breathe since he starts to have difficulty breathing trying to process the sudden struck of happiness, while asking you if this is real, and not one of your practical jokes again. But once he calms down, Kaveh will trap you in a warm hug, he will cup your face and shower it with little kisses. You won't believe your eyes when a few days later, your man is already busying himself with that one room that is always left empty by him- 'For future purpose', he claims.

You stop at the door, hand leaning on its frame. Your eyes wander around the room that has changed overnight. The interior is not finished yet, but most of it has been filled with baby related stuff that aligned in the same symmetrical way your house does. As he finished moving the baby cradle, he noticed you standing at the door, meeting his own eyes with a few blink. He hurriedly guided you in by hand, with his other resting on your waist, giving a gentle push as you walked.

"Kaveh.. When did you buy all this?" You throw him a questioning gaze. He can't help but smile at the amazement in your voice. Small chuckle escaped his lips, light and gentle to your ear. "I just place the order after you tell me about our baby." Which is not even a month old but well, let the man dream. He will make sure to make the best bedroom for your baby. And you listen as he explains why and how he chose every object in the room. His enthusiastic smile and the passion in his eyes as he explained how the cradle he chose was not only of high quality in sense of comfort and safety, but also aesthetically pleasing in its efficient design. You couldn't help but feel your lips curl up, joy bubbling in your heart as you feel how enthusiastic he is in this.

Just don't expect him to stop bringing you little trinkets from his journey. It was his usual routine. But it has become more frequent now, since he decided to take commissions that don't require him to stay away from home for too long. Every little thing, like the food on the new stall he passes, until cute clothes that will come in handy with your growing pregnancy. He will keep track on how your body change, sometimes he will say the baby grows bigger while he is away completing yet another commission that take him few days. He will whine on how he is missing the progress of your baby growth- although just a few day pass since he last touch your belly. You will often have him close the side of his head on your belly, listening to whatever sound it might make. He is basically talking to the fetus about every little thing he encounter that day. And he will say how happy he will be if they grow up healthy.

"I can't wait." He says in a tone that paint smile on your face. You are stroking his hair as he looks up at you, still kneeling in front of your belly with a smile. He did say he want the baby to look like you, but if anything, you want your baby to have their father's sweet smile.

Alhaitham will make sure you and your baby are both healthy. He basically built a new routine for you to walk under the morning sun. He will wake you up every morning to accompany you on walk, feeling the fresh air of Sumeru city. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner is prepared with calculated nutrients. You will be most content and happy, healthy body and all- he said it keeps depression away. When you act like a spoiled brat, asking for things and deciding you dislike it before asking for another. Instead of his usual nag, he will oblige to every one of your most ridiculous demands. Not bathing an eye as he wears the pink girly apron with frills and bows at your request. 'To brighten the mood', you say. You giggles and he sighs in response.

"You are enjoying this, aren't you?" The corner of his lips tucked up a bit when he watched your amused grin. "Just don't forget to fulfil your promise. Now eat the vegetables." He lift a spoon of your half eaten meal to your lips and you take it. Face emitting clear emotion of disgust. It's his turn to be amused. Watching you whine while stomaching the nutritious meal he prepared. You might dislike some of it but you trust that he is giving the best thing for you and the baby. In the night, he will read a story for your baby, laying beside you after he tucked a blanket over both of you. He is facing you with one hand sustaining his head, while other clutching a book he is reading. You will watch from your pillow, his eyes scanning every word in the book with brooding look. As if he is giving an important speech and not just reading a children fairy-tale(He almost read a scientific book to your poor baby, if you did not stop him).

"Alhaitham." He stopped reading at your voice. The man look at your expectant eyes, the same one you throw at him everytime you want something.

"What?" He keep his eyes on you. Ensuring that your words will be heard. You throw a sheepish smile at him and he immediately understand. Sigh leave his lips as he close the distance between you two. Giving you a gentle peck on top of your temple. You pout upon realizing he is teasing you. He smiled in amusement, ruffling your hair slightly before going in for a kiss you deserve.

Kaeya's mouth is sweeter than honey. If you search for word of encouragement, he can be your private motivator. His sugary words licks through your ear, leaving no space for any insecurity. He might not be there to acompany you every second in a day. But everyone can tell that he is taking a good care of you. It has been a routine for him to ask you for morning kisses before he goes to work as Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius. Late night dinner and foot message he does for you to relax your body after another day of outing. He will certainly love every second he spent watching you and your belly grow. Throwing praises here and there even when you just finish changing clothes in the morning. Pair of tanned hand circle around your waist, hugging you from behind.

"It's still so early in the morning, where is my pretty wife going to?" He whispers behind your ear, hand stroking circle on your belly.

"Kaeya.. remember the new flower shop I told you about? I am making a quick stop to pick up some Calla lilies." You turn your head to cought a glimpse of his face. But he is quick to steal a quick peck on your lips.

"Alright, come home soon okay?" He retreat, not allowing you to say a word with your startled face. Red spreading on your face as you hastily tucked his clothes, stopping him from leaving.

"What is it, (y/-" You tiptoed to reach on his collar, giving him a kiss which he return earnestly. His hand cupping your face to deepen your kiss. His words is sweet, so was his mouth. You were lost in his sweet kiss, completely forgetting your previous plan. The flowers can wait for a while.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x female reader #genshin #genshin kaveh #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham #alhaitham genshin #kaveh #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x you #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact x female reader #anon ask

[lowkeychenle]

Within the Piano Keys [ZCL] (M)

Description: For as long as you could remember, Chenle has been your neighbor and childhood best friend. That is, until one day he disappears without a word...or so you thought, since your mother hid all the letters he sent you.

Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut triple threat ygm

Content Warnings: This fic contains letters from Chenle (purely fictional duh) but does mention things about the graduation system/the Dreamies going through a rough time just FYI! Just a brief mention. And also, smut. this has smut, but it's soft and cute smut because why not.......so literally that's it I think? Who I am these are some light content warnings

Word Count: 7,707

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader (feat (briefly) Jeno & Jaemin, mentions of Mark and Jisung)

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

Author's Note: This gif actually kills me someone send 911 emergency services sos zhong chenle is killing me AGAIN

The ghost of the past will always find you.

There’s no outrunning destiny. Who and what you were made to be. And you sure as hell love to try—pushing yourself to change as much as possible to keep Fate on her toes. Sometimes, it’s inevitable. Sometimes, people are placed on the Earth with a specific purpose, and you were sure yours was him. At a mere seven years old, your life changed forever—in a way you never saw coming. When you think about it, you don’t think Fate saw it, either.

Because you met him then.

You remember the day in vivid detail. The soft, sweet melody of the piano drifting through the house, up the stairs, and beneath your bedroom door where you stand, looking for your butterfly hair clip you adore oh so much.

When your frustration reaches its peak and you sit down with a huff on the edge of your bed, you hear it. Your heart seems to beat along with the music, every key pressed making you wonder just who is playing downstairs.

It’s from Phantom of the Opera, a song titled “All I Ask of You.” The melody is full, transcending your body into peace the moment you realize what it is.

After taking a deep breath, you hesitantly make your way down the winding, spiral staircase, fingers tracing along the railings as if they’re too delicate to actually hold on to. Your steps echo downward, but as the young boy comes into view, you stop.

Not even your noisy intrusion breaks him from his music-induced trance. His entire body moves along with the sound, his eyes closed as he presses each note with perfection. His black hair is a bit longer than it probably should be, with a middle part to expose his forehead. His defined brows are furrowed, and even at his age, you’ve never seen someone look wiser than this boy does right at this moment.

You feel the song in your bones, deep within your soul in such an existential way, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever feel anything like it again. A silly, juvenile thought. You don’t know it right now, but you’d feel like that every time you were around him.

As the song comes to a close, he holds out the last note, inhaling deeply as if he hasn’t been breathing the entire time.

His eyes flutter open, warm brown irises immediately meeting yours. You hadn’t expected such depth, but you’d learn eventually never to expect anything with him—in the end, you would only build yourself up to fall…over and over and over again.

Here you stand, locked in a metaphorical embrace with a kid who can’t be any older than you, yet he seems…different. Like he’s seen enough in his lifetime to age him beyond physicality.

That was the day you started to believe in fate. The day he left was when you stopped.

Hours turned into weeks, and before you know it, the boy next door became your friend. Most times, you’d sit on the bench while he plays piano and watch incredulously. His musical talent always astounds you—he can sing, play instruments, write songs and compose them.

Sometimes, he’d ask you to sing the songs he played, and even though you felt nowhere near as talented as him, you did what he wanted. He’d join in with you occasionally, your voices blending together seemingly effortlessly.

Those weeks turned into years—two kids learning more and more about each other. He’d become more than a friend. You were twelve years old when you realized the connection you had with Chenle. When everything pieced together, and you understood that some hearts, some souls, are much older than you could ever fathom. Your heart, you were sure, stretched beyond your years, and your soul was kindred with Chenle’s in a way that could only mean you’d known each other in a past life. Slowly, slowly, slowly…he was everything, all at once.

“You’ve almost got it,” he whispered to you, adjusting your ring finger on the keys. “Just gotta move over a little bit more.”

You pouted. “My hands aren’t big enough, Lele.”

“Stop that.” He chuckled, shaking his head and nudging your shoulder. “That mindset is gonna keep you from learning.”

“Well, if my mindset doesn’t do it, the arthritis at a young age will,” you snipped.

His eyes sparkled with humor, crinkling at the edges as his smile widened. “You’ll get it eventually. Keep trying.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll tell you that you suck and you should never play again.”

You snorted. “Promise?”

He held up his pinky. “I’d never lie to you.”

You looped yours with his.

“You’ll get it.”

Chenle never gave up on you. He kept pushing you to be the best you could be, and you gladly followed his direction. You never quite got as good as he was with the piano, but you’d gotten decent at least. The two of you would hang out every day, spending every waking, free moment together until your mom told him it was time to go home.

You’d never thought about love and what it meant. For you, loving Chenle was as natural as breathing, and as time went on, it only got easier.

You turned fourteen before Chenle. If you had known this was the beginning of your last year with him, you would’ve appreciated it more. You would’ve told him all of the things lingering on your mind—how you loved him, so purely and genuinely.

Just days before your life blew up in your face, you almost told him.

He sat next to you on your bed, arm wrapped around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. The soft golden light of the lamp illuminated him gently, and the movie playing in the background edges you closer and closer to sleep.

“Do you ever think about…life?” he asked.

“Hm?” You scrunched your nose, your half-asleep state not registering what he meant.

“Like…what your plans are. What you want to do and who you want to be with.” His thumb brushed your skin soothingly. “We have to figure it out soon, don’t we? We’re almost adults.”

“You’re not tired?” You sat up and rubbed your forehead.

“Nope.”

“Well.” You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. “The only thing I’m certain about when it comes to the future is that you’ll be there. So, it doesn’t matter what else happens.”

He smiled softly, the slightest shade of red tinting his cheeks. “Even if the world ended?”

“Even if the world ended.” You confirmed.

A few months later, the world did end. At least, yours did.

He was gone.

His mom left shortly after him, but she told you what he was doing—how he was going to pursue his music career in South Korea. He was going to be an idol, and he was leaving you behind to do it.

Your world ended, but his got to go on without you.

At twenty-one years old, you’re still not sure where you went wrong. Chenle left, but his memory plagues the very walls you live within. You keep up with him, with his group and all of the things they’re doing. Even though you’re not with him, you watch him grow and grow into a more confident version of the young boy you knew.

Seven years without him should have been impossible, yet here you are: alive, well, and watching any and all Chenle related content. You haven’t heard from him, not once. Assumingly, he’s incredibly busy. Even then, you wonder occasionally if you ever cross his mind, if he ever thinks of the love he left behind.

Ever since, you’ve been sensitive over the summer months. A part of you is missing, and until you see him again, you’re unsure if you’ll ever find it. Has he changed? Is he still the boy you loved?

On days where thoughts of him overwhelms you, you like to walk the trail behind your house. It takes you through a wooded area, and the other end brings you to the end of your street. On your walk back, you see an unfamiliar car outside of Chenle’s family’s home. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you stand there to watch.

The door slides open, and you hear an unfamiliar laugh. Frowning, you cross your arms over your chest. Who the hell would be at Chenle’s house?

When the first person gets out of the car, your heart stops in your chest. You’re about eighty percent sure that’s Lee Jeno, light hair reflecting the bright sunlight above. If that’s Jeno, then—

You feel a sudden urge to run into your house, slam the door, and lock it behind you. Several other people are in that car, and if they’re here…one of them is Chenle. Your Chenle, who isn’t really yours. Not anymore.

Jaemin gets out next. His roots are dark, nearly overshadowing the pink hue on top of his head. He swats at someone behind him, laughing, and as that person comes into view, your heart stops. It shreds itself to pieces.

Jeno notices you first, a slight frown gracing his face before Chenle’s gaze follows his line of sight. When he sees you, you instantly see the recognition on his face.

Seven years is a long time. Hell, even though you’ve seen all of Dream’s content, you’re still shocked to see how different he looks. His face is more defined. He’s grown a bit taller, too.

He sees you. He’s looking at you for the first time in years, and all you want to do is forget all this time of no contact, all the ways the two of you hadn’t reached out to each other. A lump forms in your throat, and before you do something stupid, you let out a shaky breath, turn away from him, and make your way into your house.

You shut the door behind you, your back thudding against it. Glancing over to your right, the grand piano—old and loved—is blurred by your tears, and for the briefest of moments, you swear you see your younger self sitting there, endlessly playing the songs Chenle taught you before he left.

A knock sounds, and each one echoes throughout your house, feeling like a hole-puncher on your heart. You’re barely able to breathe as you prepare yourself to be face-to-face with Chenle for the first time in almost a decade—for the first time since he up and disappeared on you without a word.

“(Y/N)?” His voice. So familiar but so distant, all the same as it was.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

“I’m coming in, okay?”

You brace yourself against the solid wood of the piano, doing your best to calm yourself. The last thing you need is to make a fool of yourself in front of him.

A hesitant creak fills your ears, and the tap of his shoes on the hardwood flooring has your eyes clenching shut.

“Why’d you run off like that?” he asks, voice so soft that it’s barely audible.

“I didn’t.”

“You still sound the same,” he says it quietly, as if he’s the only one meant to hear it. He raises his voice so you can hear him. “It’s been a long time.”

You scoff, whipping around to face him. “It’s been a long time? That’s all you have to say to me?” Anger bubbles in your gut, quickly replacing the hurt lingering.

You have to stop yourself from admiring him at a time like this. His oversized T-shirt somehow compliments him in the best ways, his hair is a tinted shade of purple, and when his fingers run through it, you have to look away. Sure, you should’ve expected to see him again at some point, but you never imagined you’d feel the same. It’s a bit different now that you’re older. You’re able to see him in a different light.

His eyes widen and he recoils. “I…I’m sorry, I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say. It’s not like there’s a textbook on how to do this.”

“What are you doing here? Why now?” You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to avoid his eyes.

“We’re here on a schedule.” He slides his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I told them about you, in case you were wondering.”

“Oh, right.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I suppose that makes it all okay, right? You tell your friends I exist and that’s supposed to change how you up and left me without a word?”

He frowns. “Without a word?”

“Yeah, Chenle. Without a single fucking word.”

“That’s not true.” His tone sharpens to match yours. “I wrote to you. A lot. And if you didn’t want to read them, that’s on you. That doesn’t mean I left without a word. There were a lot of words, actually.”

“Why didn’t I get them?” Your voice drops into a whisper, moving one of your hands to touch your forehead.

“I…I don’t know. I didn’t know your address so I sent them to my mom, and she told me every time she gave one to your mom—”

A jolt of electricity rages up your spine, and you immediately turn away from him and run up the staircase. Your mother’s out of town for the week. If she’s been hiding letters from you, they’d be in her room somewhere—and you’d tear that place apart if it meant you had all those words.

“Where are you—hey!”

You’re already in your mom’s closet when Chenle follows you in.

“You shouldn’t be in here—”

“Says you,” you interrupt him, mindlessly shuffling through anything that looks like it could hold letters. “How many?”

“What?”

“How many did you send, Chenle?”

“Um.” He pauses, shifting on his feet. “I don’t know. A few? I stopped after a while because I didn’t hear anything. Figured you didn’t want anything else.”

“My God,” you mutter, blinking rapidly to fight off the tears. “And you swear your mom gave them to mine?”

“I—yeah, she didn’t have a reason not to.”

“And my mom had a reason not to give them to—shit. When did you send the first one?”

“(Y/N), it was seven years ago.”

“Was it right when you left or afterward?” You haphazardly dig through the closet, searching high and low.

“I left it here. I told my mom about it after a week or so. What the hell is going on?” Chenle runs his fingers through his hair again, gulping. “We really shouldn’t be in here.”

Your heart sinks. There’s nothing in here. You’ll never find Chenle’s letters, and the mystery will always be just that.

“I…I’m so sorry.” You drop your head into your hands. “I’m acting like an idiot right now.”

“Don’t be sorry, I’m just confused. This whole time, I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me…that’s why I haven’t been back in a while.” Chenle takes a step closer to you, reaching out to touch your arm. “I would never leave you.”

You finally look at him. Really look at him. The worried furrow to his brow, the slight downturn of his lips, concern clouding those beautiful irises of his. Standing in front of you is the reason you are who you are today.

“You just…Okay, I need a while to figure all of this out.” You glance up to the ceiling, closing your eyes and taking a shuddering breath. “Can you go? I don’t really want to see you right now.”

Hurt plays out on his face, but after he blinks a few times, he nods slowly. “Yeah. Sure. Um, I’ll see you later. If it helps any, I probably could’ve tried to call or something.”

“We were kids.” You sigh. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

You say that, but it would have. The entire trajectory of your life may have changed if Chenle was still in it back then. As much as you want to be pissed at your mother for hiding things from you, maybe she was right.

Chenle takes his bottom lip between his teeth, looking you over one more time as he nods. “Right. I…I’ll see you around.”

Before you respond, he’s turning away from you and disappearing down the hall. You feel a lot of things—overwhelmed, confused, sad. But you also almost feel naive for listening to him—for believing that your mother hid things from you. Your brain stops being logical when Chenle’s around, and you know it’s a mistake to bring him back into your life. The hurt has passed, but that doesn’t mean it won’t rear its ugly head if you’re in such close proximity to him.

You go back downstairs to grab your phone, and the first thing you do is dial your mom’s number. She picks up after the first ring.

“Hi, honey! I was about to text you. New York is fascinating! You’d love it—”

“Did Chenle write me letters?”

“Oh.” She clears her throat. “Where is this coming from?”

“He’s here,” you mutter. “He told me he sent me letters, mom.”

“(Y/N), you have to understand where I was coming from.”

“Where are they?” You slap your hand to your forehead. “Where?”

“He still left, you know. I understand he’s important to you, but he still chose a career over you. And you would’ve thrown everything away for him without a second thought.” Your mom takes a deep breath. “You needed to live your life for you.”

“Where are they?” you repeat. “If you threw them away, I will never forgive you.”

“Of course, I didn’t throw them away. They’re in my closet in a little gold box on the floor. When you read those…don’t get any ideas. He lives far away and he’s even less available for you now than he was before.”

You hang up without saying another word and run back up the stairs. It takes you only a few seconds to find the box she told you about. When you open it, your breath shudders at the stack of letters in there. Some are aged and crinkly, but the ones toward the top are newer. Your hands shake as you grab them, mouth dry as you see the dates listed across the front of the envelope.

You start with the one on the bottom, the oldest, and ever so carefully opening it. Blinking back tears, you take in the painfully familiar handwriting that belonged to your Chenle.

(Y/N)

This is probably the worst way to do this, I know. I’m leaving to follow my dreams, and while I wish I could take you with me, it doesn’t make sense. Your mom would never agree to let you come. Thinking of going through all of this without you scares me more than I care to admit.

I don’t have a phone yet, but as soon as I get one, I’ll send you a letter with the number! It’ll be nice to hear your voice again. I’m writing this early, so I actually spoke with you earlier today, but it’s funny how quickly I miss you.

You’re probably going to be really mad at me, and that’s okay. I deserve it. The reason I didn’t tell you isn’t very simple, but I hope you understand it. Saying goodbye to you would feel so permanent. Goodbye itself is too permanent for my liking, so I’ve never liked them.

If I looked into your eyes and told you I was leaving, I was scared that I wouldn’t be able to go. Or that I’d sneak you with me in my carry-on. I didn’t want to hurt you. You mean so much to me, (Y/N). I don’t ever want to make you upset, and I know you’ll eventually understand why I had to do it this way.

Just know I’ll be thinking about you every day. You’re the reason I’ll have the strength to get through this training period.

Talk to you soon,

Your Chenle

You trace your finger along the bottom of the page. Face wet, you clear your throat as you delicately set it aside to grab the next one. According to the date on the envelope, it’s from a few months after the first one.

(Y/N),

These past few months have been so hectic. I think I almost died a couple times, but here I am. I debuted last week! I’m in a group called NCT, but I debuted in the sub-unit NCT DREAM. It seems surreal, and it happened so much faster than I thought.

I think you’d like the other guys. They’re nice and loud and friendly. Honestly, they seem like they’ve been working together for a little bit of time already, so I’m the newest one here. I heard someone say they’d been training for a while…

Anyway, I said in the last letter that I’d give you my phone number. I realized after I left that you didn’t have one either, so…I’m not sure how that’ll work. And I wasn’t expecting a response to these at all, but if you want to write back, it’d give me something to look forward to after all this hecticness.

But yeah…honestly, I was a bit worried about moving here and being in a group. I’ve been learning a lot of Korean though, and another member named Jisung has been helping me a lot. He’s a few months younger than me, can you believe it? Everyone treats him like a baby, but I think he likes it. I told them about you, and they all kept teasing me.

Maybe they just don’t understand. You’re my favorite person, of course, I’m going to talk about you and tell them stories about all the fun we had.

Sorry this one is a bit long. I hope you’re not too mad at me. And I also hope that you’re keeping up on me. I think you’d like Chewing Gum…

I’ll talk to you soon! I’ll write my number down at the bottom of the page.

Your Chenle

You have to take a break. You rest your head back against the wall, closing your eyes and imagining how hurt poor, young Chenle must have been when you never responded to his heartfelt letters. You don’t know much about Jisung—besides the obvious, public information—but you’re happy someone was good and helpful to him.

After that, you wonder what it would’ve been like to be there for him through all of that. Based on what you know about his group, he’s been through a lot of ups and downs over the years. You wonder if he wrote about some of the harder things, too.

You read another one that’s about their promotions, how he’s getting closer with the other members. Then one about how he performed with twenty-two others. The next one you grab is dated from 2019. You open it.

(Y/N),

I didn’t think this year would be as hard as it has been. We all expected it, you know? We knew it was going to happen, but it doesn’t change how scary it’s been. I’m sorry it’s been a while since I’ve written. Maybe you just throw them away at this point, which is fine, but I wish I could hear from you. Especially at a time like this.

Dream has a graduation system, and Mark’s been gone for months now. Things have been continuing ‘as normal,’ but without Mark, we don’t really feel complete as a group. We see him as often as we can, but performing without him is…it feels wrong.

I wish I could see you. You’d make everything better in an instant, just like you always did. Sometimes, I feel terrible because the others get sad about the situation, and I can’t figure out any good words to say. You’ve always been so good at comforting others, I wish you were here to help me.

It’s been two years since I’ve seen you. That’s so weird to think about, because I swear I still hear your voice in my head. Your encouraging words, how you always believed in me. I need that now more than ever.

I’m not sure if you know much about Mark, but he’s our rock. We kind of fail to function without him. But in the spirit of missing both you and Mark, I’ll tell you a little story about what happened when I asked Mark for advice.

I asked him about you—about what I could possibly do to make all of this up to you since you deserve it. And not hearing back from you makes me think you might hate me.

Anyway, his question in response was interesting. He wanted to know what you were to me. How I felt about you. At first, I thought he was crazy. I mean, it was obvious—you’re my best friend. I can’t live and function without my best friend.

He asked if that was all.

I vividly remember scrunching up my face and pushing his shoulder. Not too hard, by the way.

But the more he told me about what it felt like to be in love, everything clicked into place. I’m in love with you, (Y/N). I have been for so long that it started feeling like second nature instead of a conscious idea.

I guess it doesn’t matter now. Maybe I’ve failed you too much for it to mean anything to you.

Loss sucks. Losing Mark in Dream has sucked, losing you before I even realized the extent of my feelings sucked, but at the end of the day, I have to keep pushing forward. I’m sorry for any hurt I may have caused, because this situation with Mark also made me realize how much it must have hurt you for me to up and disappear the way I did.

I’m so, so sorry. I hope you can forgive me.

Your Chenle

You wipe angrily at your tears, unsure if you should be mad at yourself or at your mother. She stole this from you. Chenle figured out his feelings for you long before you figured out yours for him, but it feels like a new revelation—to know he felt the same way, even after years without you.

You remember this time where Mark had ‘graduated’ from NCT Dream. And because you knew Chenle well, you could tell he was struggling, even when he put on a happy facade. He needed you, and you weren’t there for him.

No matter how much it hurts, you can’t stop. You grab the next one. His writing became less frequent after that. He wrote to tell you when NCT Dream became a fixed unit, and how happy he was to be reunited as seven. The next was from their first full album. You find the last one, surprised to find how recent it was. There was a large gap between this one and the one before it.

The letter was addressed from a few months ago. The one before had been from two years ago.

(Y/N),

I’m sorry it’s been a while. Honestly, we’ve been so busy, I’ve barely even had the time to sleep. I got news today that we’ll be going to China for an event. I’m coming home, but I figured I should tell you in advance. Give you some time in case you really don’t want to see me.

I still think of you every day. All I want is to hear your voice again, but I won’t ask you to do something you don’t want to. If you have no intention of seeing me, that’s fine. I know I messed this up, but I figured it wouldn’t be right to give up when I’ll be so close.

We’ll be arriving in the next few weeks. I wish I could give you more detailed information, but I won’t even know it until the day of.

If this is it for us, thank you for the time I had with you. I love you, (Y/N). No matter what, that’ll be true, but this will be the last thing I send. I hope you understand.

Love,

Your Chenle

At this point, you’re bawling your eyes out. You aggressively wipe away the tears, cursing yourself for not knowing about these damn letters. All the pain you could’ve helped him through, all the hurt it could’ve saved you from.

You sniffle, grab your phone, and dial the number at the bottom of the second letter. It’s been years since he gave it to you, so there’s a good chance it’s different now. But you don’t exactly feel like going over to his house while his friends are there and making a fool of yourself.

“Hello?” That’s definitely his voice.

“Chenle,” you breathe out, closing your eyes. “My Chenle.”

“Yeah.” His tone softens. “Yeah, yours. Always yours.”

Running your fingers through your hair, you sigh. “I found them. All of them. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says. “It’s not like you even knew about them. Give me one second, I’m gonna go upstairs. Jeno and Jaemin are still here.”

You nod even though he can’t see you, and you hear him say something to the other guys. They reply, and then you hear the tell-tale sound of the stairs creaking beneath Chenle’s feet. Once he makes it up to his bedroom, he closes the door behind him.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “That’s a lot to read all at once.”

“I don’t know. I’m so mad, Lele. How could she hide those from me? If I’d known you didn’t just leave me, it would’ve hurt so much less. And seeing all this pain you went through all by yourself…I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he tells you. “We know the truth now. I don’t want you to hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” you whisper, burying your head in your palm. “Not even if I tried.”

There’s a brief silence, only filled with the sounds of you sniffling and Chenle breathing. He’s right next door, but the idea of being with him is too real. You need time to process all of this, and bringing him around while you do isn’t the best idea.

“You said you loved me.”

“Love,” he corrects you. “Present tense. I never stopped.”

“I kept up with you.” You play with the seam of your jeans. “With everything you did with Dream and all the accomplishments you’ve had so far. I’ve been so proud of you with no way to say it.”

“I almost stopped writing letters. Mark convinced me not to give up, but after seven years I was pretty sure you wouldn’t change your mind,” he admits.

“If I’d been receiving them I would’ve called you the second you gave me your number.”

“That’s what I’d been hoping for.” Chenle takes a deep breath. “We have to go soon for a schedule, but can I come see you later?”

Later wasn’t really definitive. The thought of him in your house and in your space is scary, terrifying even, but this is Chenle. The boy who used to play piano with you and sing to his heart’s content. From what you’ve seen, this version of him doesn’t seem too different than that boy.

“Please,” you whisper. “Will you be hungry? I can make you something.”

“It’ll be late. Don’t worry about me. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Not too long after your conversation, you hear the three boys clamber into the van. You try to busy yourself throughout the day, cleaning in order to distract yourself. Eventually, you sit down at the piano and play whatever song comes to memory. One of the ones Chenle taught you back when he was here.

You taught yourself a few of Dream’s songs as well, like Rainbow, My Youth, Puzzle Piece, Teddy Bear, and most recently, Like We Just Met from their newest album. You play the last one, the darkness cascading around you as the sunset fades away from view. It’s only you and the starlight now, a gentle melody flooding through the air around you.

The door creaks open, and Chenle walks through when you’re almost done with the song. You stop playing, standing up to greet him. There’s an odd moment where you stand there staring at each other, admiring the way the starlight reflects off his skin. His eyebrows are furrowed, like he’s trying to decide what to do next.

You don’t hesitate anymore. Moving forward, you wrap your arms around him and bury your head in his chest. He immediately reciprocates, shaky breath passing by his lips as he holds you closely. His heart thrashes, the sound more than similar to yours.

“I missed you,” he says.

“I missed you, too,” you reply easily, tightening your grip on him.

You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, wetness gathered beneath them. With shaky hands, you reach up to wipe it away. His gaze travels over your face.

“You love me.”

He nods hesitantly, palms pressing into the small of your back. “Always have.”

“I’ve always loved you, too.” Before you talk yourself out of it, you’re on the tips of your toes to kiss him. It starts gently, your mouth barely brushing his before his breath catches in his throat. Then it’s real—he pulls you flush against him, lips fitting with yours like he’s made for you.

You move your hands from his cheeks to his hair, leaning into him. His fingers latch onto the fabric of your shirt. Next thing you know, he’s walking you backward until he’s pressing your back into a wall.

“We have so much to talk about.” He rests his forehead on yours. “So much air to clear up.”

“Yeah.” You nod, but your stare is focused directly on his lips.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” he warns you. “I don’t get to come here often, so unless you were to come to Korea, we’d pretty much never see each other. My schedules are so packed, I’m practicing all day and half-dead by the time I get home. I can be a real asshole when I’m tired, and sometimes I might take jokes too far. This life is not easy, (Y/N). I need you to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“What am I even doing here?” you ask. “I can come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to give up everything you have for me.” He shakes his head, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You’re not asking. Chenle, I spent years thinking you were gone without a word. All I want is to be with you as much as possible.”

“At least think about it for a little bit first, okay? I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.” He gulps. “That goes for a lot of things.”

“I’ve had seven years to think about all the things I wanted from you.”

“You can’t say things like that,” he mutters.

You’re painfully aware of what it feels like to have him pressed against you, warm in all the right ways and, despite being so thin, he’s firm to the touch. The ache you feel to be closer to him is overwhelming.

“I spent years thinking everything was a lie,” you tell him. “That I couldn’t possibly have mattered to you if you could just disappear without a word.”

His fingers play with yours, discomfort at the idea plastered across his face. “Never. I never would’ve done that. You’ve always meant so much to me.”

“I’m just happy I finally get to tell you all of the things I wanted to tell you after I found out you were gone.” You give him the smallest smile, and he reaches up to trace along your bottom lip.

The simple touch sends sparks flying down your spine, and you’re sure you’ll crumble to dust right at his feet from the forceful impact of it. An odd tug occurs in your chest, one that has you questioning if you’ve ever experienced it before. It pulls you toward him, and despite being flush, your mind dips to dangerous places that could get you so, so much closer.

You’re not sure what’s gotten into you, but this is Chenle. Your Chenle. And if you’re having these feelings for him, there’s no need to hide it.

“I…” you trail off, clenching onto the fabric of his shirt, right above his heart. “Do you feel it, too? Everything is…different now.”

“Under other circumstances, I’d say different is bad,” he whispers. “But there’s nothing bad about the way you’re looking at me.” 

His arms wrap around your waist tightly, and simultaneously, you both lean in until your lips are locked in a gentle battle. The warmth of his touch finds your hip, where your sweater rose up enough to reveal your skin. You let out a shaky sigh, and he squeezes you.

“Come upstairs with me?” Your invite is airy, suggestive, and he analyzes you while his gaze darkens.

“If that’s what you want,” he says.

“Is it what you want?” You tilt your head at him, voice quiet since he’s so close.

He pauses and wets his lips. “Of course, it is. I just don’t want you to regret anything. Losing you once was enough, and I refuse to go through that again.”

 Instead of answering, you intertwine your fingers with his and lead him toward the stairs, through the blackness of the night casting through the windows. You take one step at a time, your heart thundering and blood pulsing through your veins. One look at your shoulder, and for a second, you almost swear you see the younger versions of you and Chenle sitting by the piano. Caught up in the music. In each other.

He follows you, entranced by the way you move and how you’re so willingly guiding him. Everything happens in slow motion for you. Too fast but too slow at the same time, somehow the moment you’ve waited for your entire life while simultaneously the thing that’s scared you the most.

Your Chenle.

He said it himself. Why is it so foreign to think about? That maybe, even after all this time, he loves you even an ounce of how much you love him? Endless devotion with no contact. But he did the same—he waited and waited for your response much like you waited for any contact from him. You were both physically and metaphorically in the dark.

The door to your bedroom creaks as you push it open, embarrassed by how little it’s changed since the last time he was in it. The walls are still the same color, faded and paint peeling in some of the corners. Your bed has been swapped from twin-sized to a queen, but everything else is virtually untouched.

No more words are spoken.

They’re not needed.

You don’t need anything. Not when you have him.

He presses your body into the mattress, climbing over you gently. His touch is tender, sweet, not too much pressure. You’re halfway certain you’ll wake up from this dream any time now, and you’ll once again be without him. Without his touch and his love and his truths.

Kissing him is like touching the sun. It burns, nearly enough to make you combust into flames, but magnetic. He is your sun, and you are the Earth. You revolve around him.

Normally, anyone else taking your clothes off would make you nervous, but you know you’re in good hands with Chenle. Your shirt is tossed aside first, his mouth instantly dipping down to explore every inch of exposed skin. His tongue drags along the swells of your breasts, over your collarbones. He nips, teeth leaving shallow indents on your soft flesh.

Your whines are soft, delicately slicing into the silence of the air. The first time he hears you, he freezes, his eyelashes fluttering against your neck as he takes in the way you sound. Quiet cries of ‘more’ escape you while your hands explore beneath his T-shirt.

Never before in your life have you wanted someone with such despracy. Your body aches for him, and the tug in your chest that pulled you closer to him has finally revealed how. As his fingers pop the button on your jeans, you lift your hips.

He pulls his lips away from your chest, gaze honing in on yours. There’s something swirling around in his irises, and you’re sure yours reflect the same. He doesn’t have to ask the question on the tip of his tongue. Not verbally. You nod, guiding his mouth back to yours.

The heat of his touch dips dangerously low, past your jeans and the hem of your panties. You gasp, appreciative of how he catches the sound. You’ve been touched before, but nobody has ever compared to the way he feels. When you’ve met your soulmate, nothing could be better.

He rubs slow circles on your clit, eyes hazy from knowing he’s the one who made you feel this way. Normally, you’d need more. A simple touch wouldn’t be enough to have you squirming in someone’s grasp, but there’s so much more behind his movements than lust.

And he takes it a step further, sliding his long fingers inside you. His gaze focuses on you the whole time, watching your face for any sign of discomfort as he thrusts his hand. He nudges your sensitive bud with the heel of his palm every time he’s knuckle deep.

Your stomach feels elastic, as if you’re stretching a rubber band, and it’s taking everything you have not to let it snap back. It’s too good. Too intoxicating. Too early for it to be over. He swallows your short moans, picking up his pace. You lean up, yearning for his kiss. He doesn’t need to ask, and the second your lips meet, you tighten around him, and it’s over.

Warmth spreads all over your body, your insides boil, and butterflies swarm deep in your stomach. Your eyes shut, and your head falls back against your pillow. He kisses all over your face, humming quietly.

He pulls away from you to help you remove the last of your clothing, the fabric of your panties sticking uncomfortably until he tugs them down your legs.

You reach down to feel him through his pants, unable to stop the shuddering breath that escapes you when you touch his length. He grinds into your hand, taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

Finally, nothing separates the two of you anymore. The tip of his cock presses against your entrance, the initial pressure already making you crave more. You need all of him, so you wrap your legs around his waist and dig your heels into his back to tell him to push in further. Your whole body tingles with pleasure, the type enough to make your toes curl, and your chest heaves as you adjust to his size.

His forehead drops against your shoulder, grasping one of your hands in his own to squeeze. He takes you slowly, his throbbing length stretching you to your limits and rubbing your walls perfectly. You were made for him, you’re certain. He fits so well, so completely, there’s no other explanation for it.

He curses under his breath, eyes threatening to flutter shut from the pleasure. Sweat clings to you tighter than Chenle does, but you relish in the way you react to him. His eyebrows pinch as he looks at you for any sign of discomfort.

His name slips past your lips. In that moment, you truly become his, and he becomes yours. Bodies meld together, each one of his thrusts sliding so pleasantly inside you. There’s no sound from either of you besides the brief exchange of names, moans from both of you, and the slick of your wetness.

He kisses you, thrusting at a steady, mind-crumbling pace. His chest brushes against yours, breathing uneven as he clenches the bedsheets next to your head. You quickly realize you could do this forever. The feeling of him so deep inside you would never subside, and you find yourself never wanting to separate from him.

Starlight gleams off his skin, the blue shine accenting the sheen of sweat clinging to him. His muscles contract as he holds himself over you, and his hair hangs over his eyes. All you can do in your current state is push it back, basking in the softness of it.

Picking up his pace, he slides one of his hands down your body, his thumb connecting with your clit. You’re a moaning mess, clinging to him as the familiar sensation returns to the pit of your stomach.

His trembling breath fans across your ear as he leans close. You’re unsure of how to handle all of the pleasure, your body spasming. He presses a kiss on that sensitive spot.

“I love you,” he whispers.

And that’s all it takes to have you shatter around him, your back arching as you grip onto his shoulders for dear life. He moans loudly, hips stuttering as your walls clench. When he spills inside you, it’s as if the last piece of you two finally comes together.

In bliss, you tell him you love him, too, over and over.

He kisses you passionately once more before gently pulling out of you, reassuring you that he’ll be right back so you let go. Grabbing a towel from your bathroom, he cleans you up, gaze drinking up every part of you. Once he’s finished, he crawls next to you in bed, pulling you to his chest.

You’re still certain you’ll wake up, and all of this will have been a dream, but until then, you’re going to enjoy it. Burying yourself in the warmth of his chest, you hum in content when he pulls the blankets over the two of you.

Finally, he’s here.

He’s no longer a memory trapped within the piano keys in your foyer.

He’s your Chenle, never to leave your side again.

#nct dream #chenle #nct imagines #nct #nct dream smut #nct scenarios #nct smut #chenle smut #chenle fluff #chenle angst

[soobnny]

summer strike — hwang hyunjin.

trope. strangers to lovers. found family. comfort fic. heavily inspired by the kdrama

synopsis. having had enough of your life in the big city, you head to a small town where you meet a local librarian who feels a lot like love

word count. 23k words

warnings. drinking alcohol, curse words, mentions of loneliness

note. it’s out it’s out! this kdrama might be my favorite and means a lot to me so i just had to write something inspired by it. it’s basically the written form but condensed with a few changes so credits to the kdrama. i’d rly appreciate any feedback :)

one.

It happened without warning.

As you stand behind the glass doors of the building you work at, rain splits before your eyes. Drip by drip, and then a downpour. You suppose you should’ve checked the Weathers app before deciding to work overtime tonight.

You ponder over waiting it out, but there is no place to go but the train station before it takes its last trip. It’s urgent to get back to your empty apartment where it isn’t rainy and it isn’t windy and the world isn’t ending. So, you run towards the only direction you know in this city, even as rain pours over the streets.

Your soles feel heavy by the time you arrive, but you don’t allow yourself the moment to rest as you swerve through the crowds of people to get to the train doors before it closes. You wish to see a time when silence ghosts the usually busy station, but you don’t have the time. You never do. Always rushing. Always tired.

The watch on your wrist reads 8:21, and it’ll only be a few minutes before a wave of office workers litter the narrow space of the train. When they finally do, the first thing you discern is their terrible body odor—dried up sweat with a tinge of alcohol. It no longer surprises you, so used to the fuckery that is your life.

Instead, you plug in your earphones to drown out their voices, listening to the kind of music that drags you back to a childhood memory. It sounds like popsicles, like wind blowing through your hair as you’re being pushed from the swing, like running on concrete barefooted, like the laughter of someone you love.

Now, you live in a city of strangers.

On the next stop, an old woman walks in. No one makes a move to give up their seat—too tired, too selfish, looking anywhere but the old woman. You think of how small humanity really is as you get up and gesture for her to take your seat instead. She has gone through too many years of her life to stand stuck between the terrible stench of office workers.

She holds a sweet smile as she thanks you. You don’t remember the last time someone smiled at you like that. Silver linings.

When you finally make it home, it’s nearly 9pm. This is what working 9-6 is like in the city. You live off your co-workers taking advantage of your work ethic, your boss’s bad breath yelling into your ear, and never coming home on time.

This has happened yesterday. It will happen again tomorrow.

It’s always the same. The same routine, over and over without progress. You feel like you’ve messed up somewhere. You used to have ambitions, but now you’re just a fragment of the person you used to be. The city was supposed to lead somewhere. It was supposed to be promising. But, the same tired eyes walk down the same path everyday in a dead end.

You don’t know where you went wrong.

You lay in your bed, still soaking wet, with a painful cry waiting to erupt from your throat. You hate that there’s no longer time to create happiness. It’s too late, and minutes from now, you will be asleep.

You stare at the ceiling, as you do every night before you fall asleep, and the only sounds that accompany you are the loud honks of the cars outside and your stomach grumbling. No one calls you to dinner. No one holds you to keep you warm.

It’s so lonely here.

The feeling of a hug is something you don’t see yourself remembering so you press your back further against your bed to mimic the feeling of an embrace. It doesn’t feel right, but it’s the closest thing you can get after the mistake you made of thinking you were made for the city.

Though, as you keep staring at the ceiling, you start to feel sick. You don’t think you can handle this rotting anymore. You refuse to believe this fate is by design, not when you feel like this. With tears you didn’t even notice dried up on your cheeks, you make a decision. There is nothing else you can do here, and this will be your last night in the city. So, you do something you have not done in years, you pull your backpack that’s been collecting dust and throw in as much clothes as you can.

You feel you’ve been cruel to yourself for allowing this to happen for years. The next day, you don’t wake up at the usual time. You spend the night in, and you quit your job once they call. They don’t deserve you there.

As for your belongings, you decided to only keep what could fit in your backpack. Cleaning up the house, you realized that you bought a lot of things; mugs you bought on a whim just because they were pretty, dishes that you only used once to host a house welcoming party, clothes you forgot even existed. The selection process was much more difficult than any job interview. Useless items got sold as soon as you posted them online.

You let go of your apartment and jump on the first train out, leaving behind the bustles and the buildings of the city. Seoul is too much for an unemployed person like you.

The sound of the train pollutes your ears as you step in, the voice of the intercom telling passengers to let people out first before walking into the train. And as the train moves away, you watch the city grow smaller and smaller. You don’t bother looking back.

The little town you're heading to is unfamiliar, but the path before is even more so.

There’s a heartbeat.

two.

Nobody ever visits.

In the city, you learned early on that it was a dog eat dog world. Your kindness can only go so far until it becomes the perfect tool to take advantage of you. They liked to call it survival of the fittest, the Darwinian evolutionary theory. It’s something that’s taught early in high school, often forgotten the year after, yet it’s a theory you continue to use long after everyone else has moved on to other things in life. You’d always found it interesting how it flawlessly captured Seoul’s mechanism of natural selection—the one most adaptable to change is the one that survives.

Nobody knocks on your door to greet you there. Nobody wishes you well. For as long as you can remember, you’d always had to fight, always aboard a ship on rough waters that you’d almost forgotten how a quiet shore sounds like.

You suppose this is why there was no warning when a knock sounds on your door. You hadn’t expected anyone at your door.

The morning was spent carving out a new life for yourself in Angok, running away from the sounds of the city and exploring the place you’d soon call home. There aren’t many establishments here, most of them run by families who have been here far longer than you ever have. You take note of the small convenience store just where you live in case you were feeling too lazy to run to the farmer’s market just by the town center. Small things first, afraid to hear the bustle of buildings follow their way to where you are.

By 2 in the afternoon, you had retreated back to the small apartment you’d rented out. Outside, the wind was getting stronger, making the waves collide harshly with the shore. You think you’d have stayed out longer if the gust of wind hadn’t flapped your clothes around violently. Two in the afternoon, with nothing left to do, when the door knocks.

Knock, knock.

Your heart rate speeds up at the sound. Could the city have followed you all the way here?

With heavy feet, you fight against the voice in your head to greet whoever is at your door. By best case, they’d probably mistaken your quaint apartment for someone else’s.

You twist the doorknob carefully, door creaking when it opens and you’re met with the sight of someone with the most peaceful face and the most perfect set of teeth. His eyes are welcoming as he waves at you in greeting, hair messily swept back with a few strands falling on his forehead almost as if they were designed to be.

“Hi!” You squeak out, eyes nervously wandering back and forth between the man and what you could only assume was his parked truck just by the front of your apartment. “I think you have the wrong apartment.”

“Oh! My apologies. Is this not where (Name) lives?” Your heartbeat picks up its pace again, and your hand around the doorknob starts to feel a little clammy for the fear of his intentions.

“It is actually. Um, how do you know my name?” You try to mask the fear in your tone, but the man easily picks up on it. And if it wasn’t for the situation, you think you would’ve laughed when he comically takes long strides to back up a little bit. He looks silly with his widened eyes and parted lips.

“I’m sorry, that must’ve sounded really creepy. I’m Chan! I live just around here, and my mom just rented you this house? The previous owner ran away with all the furniture, so I brought some so it doesn’t feel so empty.”

Chan flashes you a bright smile, angling himself a little so his truck is in full view.

It solicits a sigh of relief out of you, gripping hand on the doorknob dropping as you feel a little safer. You’d been ready to shut the door. Almost defensive. Almost letting his words fall into mumbles.

“I apologize again. I didn’t mean to scare you.” His tone is soft, genuine even as he scratches the back of his head and bows a little. It’s a strange sight the man with the kind smile. Strange that it only occurs to you now how long you’d gone without seeing a smile so soft in a long time. After all your years in the city, you had almost forgotten the sight of genuineness being directed at you.

“It’s alright. I’m just… a little…” The words fall on your mouth. Frankly speaking, you don’t know how to explain your own behavior. Nervous? Afraid? Defensive? You don’t really know. You feel like a stranger in your own body.

Chan is quick to dismiss it when it seems that you don’t have the intention to finish your sentence. There is no pressure to come up with an excuse here. “Come in. The wind must’ve been harsh on you.”

Pulling the door back a little wider, you invite Chan into your empty apartment, and after asking you twice if it was okay, he finally obliges. As he makes his way inside, he takes the furniture he had brought with him—back and forth, and back and forth from the truck until everything was inside.

He doesn’t even let you lift a finger.

“Sit anywhere.” You make your way to your kitchen to grab him a glass of water, emptying the bottle you had just bought down to its last few drops. You try to take as long as you can in the kitchen in nerve of the small talk that was bound to happen when meeting strangers. Though, your walls start to look at you reproachfully, and you realize you’d been gone far too long to be called disrespectful.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” You hand him the glass, sitting adjacent to him. He simply shakes his head, thanking you instead as he takes the glass from you with both his hands, careful not to touch you in case it makes you uncomfortable.

“I hope this is enough.” Chan motions over towards the pieces of furniture he had brought with him—a couch, a few chairs, and a table for now. “I have some more, but it didn’t really fit in my truck.”

You allow yourself to smile at him, though your eyes fail to meet his for more than five seconds. You don’t know what to say, and something akin to an itch starts to eat at your brain the way a caterpillar does with leaves, one bite then another, pressuring you to say something to satiate the silence.

Chan saves your brain from being chewed away.

“I hope you don’t have a hard time settling in.” He finishes the water you’d offered him before he continues, “I live just 2 apartments away if you need anything. I’ll see you around?”

You nod your head, following him out of the door, and you can only hope you hadn’t scared him away already. You manage to meet his eyes one last time as you move to shut the door, polite smile on your face as he turns back one last time.

“Ah, before I forget… I noticed you had a lot of books with you. There’s a library just a few blocks away in case you were interested.”

“Oh. Thank you. I’ll be sure to check it out.” With one last bow, you gingerly close the door behind you as he finally drives off.

Chan. He feels comfortable despite only knowing him for a few minutes, almost like a caring older brother you never had. You hope to know him more.

As you turn back around, you look at your apartment a little more closely this time, inspecting how the pieces of furniture look, decorating what once was an empty space. It looks more like a home now. You should’ve thanked the man more, you fear you didn’t say it enough.

You brush the thought off and spend the rest of the day cleaning.

three.

It takes you almost a week to go to the library Chan had suggested.

You had promised yourself to finish the book you brought with you first, before committing to new stories and new horizons. Though, it proved difficult as you have always been the type to take more than you can bargain for—purchasing books after books only to leave them behind on a dusty shelf.

But, new places call for new habits, and you vowed to leave that inclination behind.

When you step outside, a wispy curtain of clouds cover the skies. It’s a lovely weather to be outside in, with the summer breeze floating about. Not too cold. Not too sticky.

The air in the city has always been tangled with some form of pollution. Dirty and suffocating. It’s nice to have a change in pace. Being kind to nature, you find, has you reaping the benefits of basking in its beauty. They don’t litter her land with buildings here.

On the way to the public library, you pass by the market where a multitude of people line up, selling more than you can name—fruits and vegetables, homegrown plants, fish, textiles of clothing, brooms, almost everything.

The old and young gather alike, children running around to help their parents, office workers taking a break from their job to buy street food from the vendors. It’s colorful and vibrant, almost fiesta-like that only the people of Angok can radiate.

“(Name)?” A familiar voice has you ripping your eyes from an array of freshly baked cookies, turning towards the origin of the sound to find Chan waving at you.

“Chan, hi!” You reply shyly, yet a little less reserved than when you had first met him.

He looks the way he did a few days ago when he showed up on your door, though more sweaty as he puts down the final box of fruits they had loaded up on his truck. He’s dressed in a loose tank top, you assume to be more efficient in his job, and the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead are more visible the closer he gets to where you’re standing.

Chan definitely stands out with his height, and the way he smiles so easily.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, hands wiping at the side of the shorts he’s wearing.

“I’m actually going to the library… the one you talked about. Though, I’m not quite sure I’m headed the right way?” You try to mask your embarrassment with a short laugh, and his eyes brighten at the way you had taken his suggestion.

His stature lights up in the same manner, clasping both his hands together and replying, “Ah, if you can wait a minute, I can walk you there. I have to deliver a box of oranges there, anyway.”

“Really? I’d really appreciate that actually. Thank you.” You smile politely, and he gestures for you to follow him back to his truck where a man is waiting for him.

The stranger is carrying way more than he should be, about to jokingly boast about his strength to Chan when he takes an abrupt step. An earthquake rumbles in the way a box falls from his shoulders, hitting the pavement and bursting open—almost in slow motion as apples and oranges roll out.

“Shit!” He exclaims with his whole chest, and he immediately bows in apology at the elders around him who look disapprovingly at his choice of language.

“Ah, Jisung.” Chan mumbles, jogging forward to grab the fallen fruits that are still rolling on the pavement. A few onlookers help, much to the embarrassed boy’s dismay, and you quickly bend down to grab at the ones nearest to you.

“Sorry.” His tone is abashed, loading fruits back in the box and setting it aside. Chan simply pats him on the back in fondness.

“Wait, who’s this?” It’s only now he notices you, standing behind Chan with a few fruits in your arms which you hand to him. “Wait, wait, wait. I know, wait give a second.” He continues.

You can hear a faint chuckle from Chan.

“You’re (Name)! Right? You recently moved here?” The sheepish grin on his face is quickly replaced with a look of interest tangled with excitement, forgetting about his ordeal with the fruits in favor of greeting you.

You wonder if news travels as fast as his expression changes in this little town.

“Woah, easy Ji. You’re gonna scare her.” Jisung takes a step back, suddenly aware of how much personal space he’s taking away from you.

“I’m Jisung, Chan’s super handsome and cool friend.” His enthusiasm makes up for his clumsiness, waving at you before suddenly grabbing a plastic container from a big blue cellophane sitting by the side of the box he had dropped. “Here, my mom’s taking up an interest in baking lately. She’s not very good, but please have it as a welcoming gift from me.”

You take the container from his hands, bowing in thanks before meeting his crinkled eyes. Does this boy ever stop smiling?

“Thank you, really. I’d introduce myself but, it seems… you already know my name.”

His unwavering kindness takes you by surprise, just like everyone else in this village. And you’re about to thank him again when he excuses himself to help who you assume to be his mother, who is grumpily carrying a new batch of her baked concoctions.

“So, the library?” And then it’s Chan’s smile again. This time, he has with him a small box of the oranges he told you he’d deliver. You snap out of your far-away look to follow him through the streets.

It’s a short walk, brisker than you thought, and Chan sets the box down on a wooden table just outside of the public library where a young man waits for him—impatience clear on his face.

“Finally. Took you long enough, old man.” The boy opens the box, grabbing an orange from the pile and inspecting it before letting out a satisfied hum when it seems to have met his criterion.

“What do you even need all these oranges for, anyway?” Chan inquires, looking down at the crouched figure of the boy.

“Oranges have vitamin C, which plays a major role in preventing age-related mental decline.” He states matter-of-factly, standing up from his previous position. “Something you can’t relate to, obviously.”

The older boy doesn’t take anything to heart. Instead, you find the same fondness on his face, the one he wore when Jisung had dropped that box earlier.

“Well, I’ll get going then. Will you be okay here?” Chan looks back at you, a huge question mark of an expression decorating his features to ask if it was alright for him to get back now and leave you there.

The younger boy is long gone now, having retreated back into the library with his oranges.

“Oh, yes, yes, of course, sorry. Thank you again.” You smile, and he continues to wave goodbye until he’s no more than a distant figure.

The building is three stories tall, and you have to walk a flight of stairs to get to the library on the second floor. But it’s quiet, and you liked the change of pace from the vibrancy outside to the sudden tranquility inside.

It provides a safe barrier for when you want to be alone with your thoughts, something you never had in the city.

The inside of the library is cold, but the sun reflects through the panels of the windows just right so that it isn’t freezing. It’s as inviting as it is outside, and you’d go as far as saying the friendliness of the library was similar to that of Chan’s warm welcome for you. It isn’t the biggest room, and its run-down nature was particularly striking, but it isn’t something you mind. The cheap furniture and the slight discoloration of wood gave the place a character of its own—like this library has stood for generations and has protected centuries worth of knowledge from the books it holds.

It reminds you of a scene from Avatar the Last Airbender, when they find a lost library with all the knowledge in the world. And the boy with the obsession for oranges can be Wan Shi Tong, the giant owl spirit who’s tasked with collecting information and protecting the Spirit Library.

The door sounds and the floor beneath you creaks as you walk through the room. Though, it isn’t loud enough to catch the attention of the boy you had seen earlier, or as you liked to call him, Wan Shi Tong. He simply calls out an obligatory “welcome”, before going back to the book he’s reading.

The closer you got to the shelves, the more it smelt of books. It’s a nice addition to the ambiance, the scent of pages roaming around and escaping past the ventilation.

You go through the bookshelves, hand moving along their spines. So many books and every single one you wanted to read, even those in foreign languages.

You like this place, you decide. It’s filled with a quiet that allows breathing space, not simply an absence of noise, but a comforting stillness that isn’t easy to replicate. You might come here more often, make it part of a new routine you’re crafting for yourself.

Back in Seoul, you woke up at 6am like clockwork. You shower, eat when you can, go to work, overtime, and go home. Repeat. It’s to the point of exhaustion that the first time you slept in felt like your body was catching up on all the rest it’s been denied, and now it’s being given a space to breathe.

Reaching the end of the shelves, you’re subjected to the sight of broad shoulders and long black hair, standing still as the figure moves to return some books into their slots. They must work here. Should you inquire about how to make a library card? They already seem way friendlier than Wan Shi Tong.

“Excuse me miss?” They give no sign of having heard you. “Miss?”

When he turns around, you’re thinking of all possible ways to move out at this very instant. The boy, whom you had mistaken for a woman, looks at you with slightly widened eyes as if not having expected you to have spoken to him. While that isn’t reason enough to warrant your sudden thoughts of running away, his beauty surely is.

He’s hypnotizing, a beauty that Aphrodite must’ve blessed upon him, the kind that leaves a lasting impression. You’ll meet him once and never forget about him. His hair falls perfectly just above his shoulders, and a mole sits on his face like it was always designed to be there.

You’re embarrassed—if calling him miss wasn’t enough, you’re unsure if the staring did anything to help. Without another glance, you bow and mutter a quick apology before turning to walk away from where he’s stood.

“I’m sorry.” You say, for extra measure even when your back’s already turned from him.

Wan Shi Tong it is.

“Hello.” You speak quietly, and the boy once again looks up from his book. He looks like he’s studying for something.

“How can I help you?” He doesn’t have that false customer service voice, the one that’s overused and far from genuine. Instead, he speaks to you with a sort of passive tone—but it’s not too much that it sounds condescending.

“How do I make a library card here?”

He puts down his pen. “You need an address in Angok for that.”

“Ah, I do have one.” You smile, a little shy, yet relieved that your sudden intrusion of their village hasn’t spread to the entirety of the population yet.

“Did you move here?” He inquires, to which you nod your head in response. “Hm, alright. Hyunjin will help you make one. I’m Seungmin, by the way.”

“(Name).” You introduce yourself back, thanking him for his help as you turn around to only be greeted by Aphrodite’s son, though, you suppose you now know him as Hyunjin.

You can do this.

Hyunjin quickly makes his way behind the desk on the seat next to Seungmin’s so he can hand you a piece of paper you assume you have to fill out for the library card. Though, he still doesn’t say a word. He only points at the parts you need to fill in before going back to another one of his tasks behind the computer screen.

It’s hard not to look at him, and you’d lie if you said you didn’t feel anything when he looked back at you. Though, the feeling is overpowered by the embarrassment of possibly causing him any form of discomfort. You don’t want it to eat away at you until you’re avoiding the library.

You don’t want to avoid the library.

“By the way…” You start suddenly, keeping your voice down. “I’m sorry again for… earlier.”

Silence greets you, as he panics to grab the tiny camera for your library card. “And thank you for helping me right now.”

You seem to only be digging deeper and deeper into your own grave when he still doesn’t respond to you, simply stares as he bows his head slightly to acknowledge you. And it seems that awkwardness spreads like a virus when Seungmin’s head peeks from his book to witness the funny exchange before him. He looks like he’s trying his best to not laugh at whatever the hell is happening.

Then a shutter sounds as you’re filling up your paperwork, unaware he’d already taken your picture. You can only let out a nervous laugh to try and mask the silence that suddenly feels a little suffocating under the prying eyes of Seungmin.

“Here you go.” You hand over the piece of paper, and Hyunjin gives you a printed out library card in return. “Thank you.”

You suppose you can come back the next day to actually start reading. Meeting four new people and embarrassing yourself on top of everything is a little taxing, and you know the weather outside and the pretty cherry blossom trees will help put your mind away enough that you’ll feel better by tomorrow.

The bell rings as you leave, just as it did when you entered and you find yourself smiling at the breeze and the possibility of new friendships.

You told yourself to live a life you won’t regret.

You can do it.

There is excitement when you think of what will happen from now on. Time is all you have now.

As you walk outside, you map out where Chan had led you earlier to make it back to your rented home. If you were gonna come to the library on most days, you might as well have the path memorized until you can guide yourself there blindfolded.

You feel something fluffy just by your legs before you see it, eyes too focused ahead to only now realize you’re being followed by a long-haired Chihuahua. A chuckle escapes your mouth as you bend down to greet the dog. “Hello there, who are you?”

A bark follows, but not a threatening one.

“Come here.” He follows, little paws jumping up to rest on your bent knees with a wagging tail. Almost immediately, you coo at the sight, supplying him with all the head rubs he could possibly ask for.

“Where did you come from, hm? Why are you all alone?” The pitch of your voice is definitely higher, speaking to the dog with a tone similar to one you’d use when talking to a baby. “So cute.”

“I’ll get going now, okay? Go back home too!”

Four padded steps continue to follow you, and the culprit is exactly who you think it is.

“You can’t follow me around. You have to stay here!” Phony scolding, to try and get the dog to stop following you. You don’t want their owner to worry.

“Hey, stop following!” You laugh, starting to jog away from the chihuahua, but he refuses to listen. Instead, he starts running to keep up with you. “Stop it!”

Turns out, it’s hard to convince a dog to stop following you. Especially when he’s made his way into your own home, walking with you for the entirety of your path. The little dog doesn’t have a tag, no owner to contact, and it’s nearing night that you don’t feel safe letting him sleep outside in the inky dark. So, you invite the dog inside who walks around like he owns the place.

You sigh, though never one of indignation, as you sit down on the couch Chan had lended you, and the chihuahua quickly follows to lay himself on your lap. Curled up. Safe.

“What should I call you? Hm? You’re pretty stubborn.” You look down at the dog who’s looking back at you as if having understood anything that you’re saying. “Berry? No?”

It takes you a couple more tries before deciding on Kkami—when the chihuahua’s tail starts wagging aggressively and he attempts to lick your face at the mention.

“Okay, Kkami then. You like that? Hm?”

Your night routine doesn’t change much, there’s just an addition of a curled up Kkami sleeping beside you on your bed. But, you find that you don’t mind it one bit. It’s less lonely like this, and it’s nice to have some company.

four.

You return to the library’s stillness the next day after finishing up some chores—the laundry, the cleaning, everything. Washing your clothes was something unfamiliar to you, as you’d always just sent them to the laundry services near the place you stayed at. There was never time to do them yourself.

It’s a totally new experience when all you have is time now. You keep burning the food you make, but eat it the same. And hanging up your wet clothes outside took forever, but you manage. You just have to remind yourself there’s a book waiting for you in the public library.

The walk to the library is easier now, but the commotion you’d caused yesterday still echoes in your head. It engraves itself even as you make it to the door, hand hovering over the handle. But, there’s no point in delaying. You’ll be here most days so it’s best not to avoid anyone. So, without another thought, you open the door and step into the quiet of the library.

The bell rings as it always does.

“Welcome,” is what Seungmin says, just as he did yesterday. You greet him back, smiling politely as you make your way to the shelves. The room is almost empty. There’s only one other person in the library, a book with black hair on his own table, and he seems to be in his own world.

Hyunjin is also seated at a table, books and paper plastered on the wooden surface as he repairs torn pages. An uninterrupted routine he’s probably grown accustomed to.

“Hello.” You decide to greet the boy as you pass by the table he’s occupying. His hair is swept back today, and it looked like it smelt good.

His eyes light up when he sees you.

“You’re hello again.” He tilts his body so he can look at you, bowing a little. Though, his words come out croaked, and you’re unsure if you heard him right.

“Sorry?” Hyunjin doesn’t repeat himself. Instead, his face grimaces at how he had failed to utter the phrase he had practiced—hello, you’re here again.

But it isn’t his choice of words that surprises you, it’s that he spoke to you at all. His tone is soft, and completely unexpected after the silence you had received the day before. It’s the first words he ever tells you, and you find yourself smiling at the small progress.

A voice in your head tells you that you want to know him more.

So, after a few days of fleeting eye contact and small smiles from afar, you decide to come back to the library.

The afternoon air outside is beautiful, as it always has been when you walk outside, and there’s a mental checklist you go through in your head. Forgetting is so easy, so you try not to.

Buying Kkami dog food was first on the list of things you have to do on your way home from the library. The little chihuahua doesn’t seem to mind being left behind. In fact, Kkami loved his little space on the couch. Though, you still promise to be back as soon as possible, wanting to walk him outside while the sun is still up.

Hyunjin is seated at the same table as he did when he first talked to you, books and pages neatly plastered again when you walk into the library.

Today, you’ll try your second attempt at talking to him.

“Do you… repair all the books yourself?” You ask, looking down at the multitude of pages he’s tending to and the stack of books waiting to be repaired in a trolley parked at the side of his table.

“Yes.” He smiles upon answering, and it’s one that radiates pride in the work he does.

Your lips quaver slightly, trying to find words to say to him. You wonder if it’d be okay with him if you wanted to help out. The work looks interesting, and a little soothing. Would that make him uncomfortable?

Fiddling with the ends of your shirt, you stab your hesitance straight in the chest. “Can I try too?”

His mouth falls agape, and then he’s nodding his head, gesturing for you to take the seat adjacent to him. Hyunjin grabs an extra spatula, passing it to you before smiling shyly down at the books and pages.

“You take the spatula, and spread the glue evenly.” Hyunjin looks up at you before grabbing a page and his own spatula so you can mimic his gestures. “Then, you place the page at its original location.”

He closes up the book he’s working on, patting down at the spine so the glue sticks well. “That’s it.”

“Oh.” You look at his work with fascination, smiling as he sets the book aside. “You’re kind of like a doctor. It’s like you’re applying medicine to the books.”

He grins at your words, eyes averting from your eye contact as he shyly grins. You know he has pure love for what he does, and it warms your heart. It’s a sentiment you wish you had for your job back then.

“I think…” You fix your gaze to your hands that are propped on the table, intertwining your fingers together. “I’m in love.”

Hyunjin’s inability to look you in the eyes seems to falter the moment you speak. His mouth falls back into an ‘o’, and the tip of his ears are awfully red.

“Wait, sorry. What I mean is… I think I’m in love with the process of fixing up old things.” With slightly widened eyes, you gesture at the book he had just fixed cartoonishly, chewing on your lips a little embarrassedly.

The boy in front of you nods, fingers pausing over his task; you turn to look at him, and you’re relieved to see his smile returning.

“I see.” He chuckles, grabbing onto the pages that still need to be glued and grouping them together, tapping them lightly on the table so they align.

“Let me help you.” You reach out to the remaining pages, and Hyunjin looks at you with an expression you don’t quite recognize, but you know has no ill-intent. He always looks this way. Always natural, never forced.

As you quietly work on the task, Hyunjin can’t stop himself from looking at you from time to time. He thinks it’s to monitor your work, but does that excuse the way he stares at the small smile tugging on your lips?

“Has anyone told you how you resemble Aphrodite?”

“Me?” He asks, eyes darting you and the book he’s working on. You grin at him, nodding your head.

“Yes. Goddess of Beauty in Greek Mythology. You know her, right?”

“I do.” He smiles back easily, willing the blush that’s obviously creeping on his cheeks away.

“When I first met you, that character came to mind.” You mumble as you stare at the page in your hands, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to match it to its proper book. You pause, catching yourself before you can misplace the page, and Hyunjin looks up at the sudden silence.

“Which one was this again?” Sheepish. You think you’ve embarrassed yourself more times than not in this library.

You don’t notice Hyunjin leaving his seat, sauntering over to where you’re seated so he can peer at the page and at the books in front of you. “May I?”

His tone is kind, and it didn’t seem as if he were upset that you didn’t know where to put the page. On the contrary, he made you feel as if it was okay that you didn’t know. Quick to reassure.

“I don’t memorize all of these either. I only remember the names and places in the books, and I like drawing to keep an image of them in my head too.” He’s arranging the pages now, putting the corresponding paper atop the book they belong to. “Why don’t you try this one?” The way he says it is so full of expectation, leaning down to hand you a page and you can only smile up at him.

“I’ll give it a try.” You sputter out for words to say, taking the page from him gratefully.

Seungmin watches from a distance, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity as he observes his usually quiet friend speak more words than usual. Though, the observation makes his heartstrings contract.

It goes on like this for a while, silence engulfing the pair of you as you work to repair the books together. Hyunjin showed no signs of you being a bother to him, even reaching out to help most of the time—appreciative of your time. No sound follows, just the beating of your hearts and the rustling of paper.

Until a loud bang rumbles in the sky, interrupting the four of you in the room (even the freckled boy at the corner table who is at the library again today).

Your reaction is instantaneous, jumping back in surprise at the sudden interruption of silence, but a smile replaces the initial shock when you see the gentle pitter patter of rain from the windows.

Hyunjin slips himself out of his seat, rushing to close them so the books don’t get wet as Seungmin goes to help, all while you stare at the drizzle.

You’re reminded of the last day you stepped foot in the city.

“Oh!” You suddenly exclaim when the sound of the rain increases in volume. The burst of rain as the sky splits open reminds you of your laundry and how the initial heat they absorbed must’ve been washed off by the rain.

“I have to go.” You quickly excuse yourself from the boy who has just returned from closing the windows, smiling for the last time before rushing down the stairs to start heading home. Though, you falter in your step. You don’t have an umbrella with you. Should you just make a run for it? You think the jacket you’re wearing can help at least a little bit.

You sigh, about to step into the rain when a hand reaches for your shoulder. Warm and gentle, almost feather-like even. You spin around, only to be met with Hyunjin’s goddess-like features.

“Hyunjin?”

He clears his throat, pulling out his umbrella before handing it to you. “Use this. You’ll get sick.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I can just use my jacket!” Hyunjin doesn’t seem to budge at your rejection, simply smiling as he places the umbrella in your grasp.

“I think an umbrella will do a better job than your jacket.” You laugh a little, not knowing he was capable of teasing. It was cute. He was cute.

“Thank you! I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.” You don’t know why your heart is thumping so fast at the small gesture, but you reason it’s because you’re worried about your laundry. Though, a voice in your head is telling you that’s not quite the answer.

He disappears back into the library, and you shield yourself with his umbrella as you sprint back home to tend to your now wet clothes. The rain smelt acidic as you put away your clothes, setting them aside as the sun seems still so far away in the distance. You’ll hang them back outside when the heat returns.

“Did the thunder scare you?” You pick up Kkami in your arms, cradling him as you try to shield him away from the sudden loudness of thunder and lightning. “I’m sorry I couldn’t walk you out in the sun today.”

The rain is louder in your house, and it’s only when your own stomach grumbles do you remember you were supposed to buy Kkami dog food on your way back home.

Forgetting is so easy.

“I’ll go buy you some food, okay? You must be starving.” You rub the back of his ears, setting him down on the couch before grabbing the umbrella Hyunjin had lent you once again. Though, thankfully, the downpour stops just as quickly as it had started. You’re already inside the family-run convenience store near you when the sky clears out and the sun starts to peek behind the clouds again.

“What can I get you?” You turn to find a shorter man emerge from the back of the store, warm smile etched on his face as he pads his way to where you’re standing.

“I hope the rain wasn’t too hard on you.” He continues. His tone is kind as he waits for you to reply.

“Ah, it was okay.” Though initially caught off guard at the sudden presence, you return the smile gently. “I was wondering if you had any dog food?”

“We do!” He heads to a corner, and the way he grabs the bag of dog food punctuates his arms that you can only now see how big they are. His jawline is sharp too, noticing it the moment he turns that his side profile is visible to you.

He leans down to scoop up the bag in his arms, before heading back to you. “You’re the one who recently moved here, right?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?” You hand him your payment before taking the bag in your arms, hugging it so the weight isn’t as heavy.

“Chan mentioned. I’m Changbin.” Changbin takes your payment, returning to you the change. “I hope we can be good friends.”

“(Name). It’s nice to meet you. I’ll… get going now!” You motion at the dog food in your hands, to tell him you still had a pup to feed at home before waving goodbye as you hurry back to your house.

There’s almost no rain now, the only sign that it had even drizzled was the acidic smell, the puddles that had formed on the concrete overtime, and the gentle trickle of water from one leaf onto the next.

Kkami is waiting for you at home. No one used to wait for you before.

five.

You come back to the library the next day, just like you said you would. This time, Kkami walks with you to make up for not being able to take him out under the sun yesterday. Though, you don’t expect the handwritten “temporarily closed” sign to be the first thing that greets you as you head for the door.

You place Hyunjin’s umbrella just by the handle, almost in an awkward manner as you continue to peer at the piece of paper taped on the door.

“They both went to Seoul for Seungmin’s test.” A voice behind you averts your attention to the same freckled boy from yesterday.

“Ohh…” You respond, nodding your head in understanding as you walk over to where he’s seated just outside the public library. “I was just gonna return Hyunjin’s umbrella.”

Felix seems surprised, but it only triggers his smile to grow wider than it already is.

“I’m Felix.” You blink slowly, shaking his hand when he stretches it out for you to take. When your hand meets his, he pulls you down to sit next to him. “And who’s this little boy?”

“This is Kkami.”

Felix is a nice guy, pulling Kkami up to cradle him in his arms. The first thing that catches your attention is his freckles—like constellations in the night, littering his face like stars do the sky. You love the stars, though, you don’t see much of them in the city because of the polluted air and the abundance of lights from the buildings that line up.

The boy resembles the very comfort you find in the cluster of stars, a calming quality in him as he smiles down at your dog.

But, just as much as he resembles the stars, he smiles like the sun. Perhaps it's the way his eyes form crescents and the way his lips curve that trigger the sight of the sun. But he’s blinding in the most calming way possible.

“Do you have somewhere else you need to be?” He asks, shots of espresso in the way he speaks. Deep and reverberating. How fitting the way his voice wakes you up like the sun.

“I think I’m just gonna walk Kkami around.”

“Do you mind if I walk with you a bit?” Felix puts your dog down, tilting his head to look at you that radiates so much friendliness. “I don’t really know what to do with the library closed.”

He offers like he’s already your friend.

You knew it was an exaggeration to call him a friend right away, but for you it was just that. Especially when he walks by your side, laughing and talking to you as if he’d known you forever.

“You know, it’s nice to hear Hyunjin talk more.” His lips curl into a lovely smile as he continues to accompany you and Kkami in your walk.

“What do you mean?” You ask, eyes trailing down to Kkami who’s padding ahead of the two of you.

“He doesn’t do too well with strangers, doesn’t even talk a lot with me. I think he’s only ever truly warmed up to Seungmin, so it’s nice to just hear him more.”

You blink in surprise at his words before lifting your hand to where it was staring at Kkami in favor of looking at Felix instead.

“Oh.” You don’t know what to say or how to respond to the sudden revelation he’s laying down on you, and he throws his head back in laughter at your speechlessness.

“Don’t worry, I just felt the need to tell you. You don’t have to say anything.”

It goes on like this more—Felix initiating conversation and talking about almost everything until he has to go home. You end your walk with an exchange of numbers and a promise of ice cream the next time you come to the library together.

When you get home, it’s already 6pm. Kkami falls asleep almost right away, and you’re left to do the little chores you have left for the day. You wonder what you’ll have for dinner.

You’re in the middle of preparing a meal when your phone buzzes where you left it.

Ring, ring.

Your brother never calls anymore. So when you receive a call, you weren’t expecting to find his caller ID on the screen. You thought it was gonna be Felix who forgot to tell you something.

“Hello?” You’re the one who speaks first.

You're a ball of nerves wondering why he’s calling you right now.

“Hey (Name). Are you doing okay?”

“Hey, is something wrong?”

“Hm? Can’t an older brother call his sister to check on her?” There’s a scuffle in the background of his end.

“You never call.” You say quietly, picking at the ends of your shirt as you stare at nothing in particular.

“Oh, hah. Well, the thing is… can you lend us some money? You can sell the ring mom gave you. Itt’s just… our son, all his friends are studying abroad every vacation, but he never went.”

Your brother sounds shameless in his request, as if your mother hadn’t given him everything when she passed. All you have left of her are pictures in your head and the ring she had gifted you. You’ve never worn it, but you kept her going-away present. It’s the only thing you have left of her, and it hurts that your brother even thought of selling it just so his son could go on a trip abroad.

This ring meant something to you. Something more than a trip to him.

“Is this your wife’s idea? Does she want me to sell the ring mom gave me?”

“That’s not it.” He sighs exasperatedly, and you know he’s running a hand down his face at how this conversation is going. “Don’t you feel bad that your nephew is losing confidence because he’s never been abroad before?”

“Hey…” A lump forms in your throat, the familiar hands of pain wrapping around your neck to strangle you into tears. “Do you even… know how I’m living right now?”

Your voice cracks, choking on your own words to know that your brother only calls when he needs something. He doesn’t care. He never has. A sob is brewing in your throat.

“I do! But…” He’s getting defensive now, voice raising so he can try to get his non-existent point across. “My family is short on money right now.”

Family. The word is unfamiliar. It left you the moment your mother passed, replacing itself with loneliness. With emptiness. The unfamiliarity makes your face scrunch in the way it does before a hideous sob leaves your mouth, but you will yourself to get yourself together. Just for another minute, while you’re still on the call with him.

“Am I not family?” You mumble almost incoherently.

You don’t think you can handle talking to him any longer, not when he treats you like a bank account he can solicit money from anytime. Not when the first call you receive from him in years is that of asking you to sell your mother’s ring, not even to ask if you were alright, how you were doing.

The strangers in Angok treat you far better than your own brother.

You hang up before he can say anything else.

He has already caused you unbearable pain, and the reminder of how alone you’ve been. You want the pain to go away, you’ve worked too hard only to let it come back in full force. And there is only one way you know that can take it all away, even just temporarily.

It’s how you find yourself at Minho’s small restaurant, two bottles of Soju empty, and a disoriented haze of the place around you.

Minho doesn’t make it a habit to stick his nose in anyone’s business, but when your wobbly legs attempt to grab a third bottle of Soju, he’s hurrying by your table to stop you. “I’ve just made up a non-existent rule that you can only have two bottles.”

He takes it away from you, and you immediately pout when he does, a whine brewing in your throat. You try to imitate the way Puss in Boots looks, when he widens his eyes to get what he wants, but to Minho—you just look absolutely ridiculous.

“I’ve never heard of that rule before.” You mumble dejectedly, staring at the Soju bottle that Minho’s whisking away and putting back.

“It exists now because you’re piss drunk, and I don’t know how you’ll be getting home.” He says, tone softer than it was when you had first walked in ordering your first bottle, as if not wanting to startle you.

“I’m not drunk!” You blink rapidly, abruptly getting up to which Minho sits you back down so you don’t topple over your own clumsy feet. He mumbles something about getting you water.

“Everything just looks funny right now.” Your words come out in a slur as you look at your surroundings with a curious eye. “But I’m not drunk.”

When he returns, you have your head rested on the table, cheek mushed against the surface as your eyes droop a little in sleepiness. Though, there’s an addition of someone new in his shop. Hyunjin looks at you confused, before he fixes his gaze on Minho as if asking him why you were moping around at one of his tables.

“Don’t look at me. I don’t even know who this is.” Minho says in mock surrender, though, it doesn’t take long before his features mimic that of a Cheshire Cat. “You’ll take her home safely, right?”

Minho quickly ushers the pair of you out, waking you up and pushing you in the direction of Hyunjin who holds out his arms in case your feet decide not to cooperate with you. He needs to close his shop.

“Are you okay?” His arms are still hovering around you, not quite touching you, but prepared to if you ever fall forward.

“Hyunjin? How did you come to find me from so far away?” Your eyebrows furrow together as you stare at the boy beside you, as if there was no way he was real and with you right now.

“I’ll walk you home, okay?”

“I’m a bit drunk. I’m a little bit drunk right now.” You mumble, head still hazy as your eyes blink blearily, feeling the need to inform him. Your legs feel extra wobbly.

“Right. Are you okay?” He pulls you back to his side when you stumble a little too far away, soft tone never changing. He looks at your puffy eyes in curiosity, frowning as he thinks of all the possibilities as to why you had been crying.

“Goodness.” You exclaim in your half-conscious state when you almost trip on something, immediately reaching to what’s nearest to you—Hyunjin’s arm.

“Hyunjinnieee…” You start to sway where you’re walking, clearing your throat as Hyunjin is left predicting what your next move is going to be (on top of wondering why your eyes are red and stingy).

Though, he most definitely doesn’t expect you to start singing.

“Why do you appear before my eyes whenever I’m drunk?” It’s loud, uncharacteristic of the you he’s met, and your arms are flailing around as if to act like a conductor in your own orchestra of sounds.

“You’re going home now, okay?” Your smile is loopy as you nod at his words, continuing to sing the same one line over and over again while skipping in your step.

Hyunjin is attentive to where you’re walking, scooping up a potted plant and setting it aside when you’re about to walk into it. “Careful.”

You tell him all sorts of stories as you head home—how you fell in love with the library, how you never thought you’d own a dog, how you’re glad you’re far away from the city.

He listens. To every single one of your stories, all while making sure you get home safely. He looks both sides before crossing the street, hand outstretched to an incoming car to slow it down as you carelessly walk across without so much as a glance.

“Hyunjin.” You suddenly stop in your tracks.

“Hm?” Hyunjin ushers you to keep moving, hand hovering on the small of your back as you start giggling in your dazed state.

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you.”

“Okay.”

“Is it okay if I ask right now?”

“Sure.” He replies, arms dropping back to his sides.

“Do you think you can like me? I don’t think anyone likes me.”

A silence settles between the two of you right after you get the question out. Hyunjin pauses in his actions, staring at you as you keep marching forward to where you live.

He allows himself to ponder over your sudden question. He couldn’t quite explain how he felt about you, but he knows it’s good. He has surprised himself time and time again for willingly continuing conversation with a stranger, but Seungmin has stressed it was good for him.

You emit a type of radiance, one of comfort. Maybe it was the way you smile at him, so softly when people look at him strangely for not being able to speak to them right away. He has only spoken to you once, but he knows he wants to talk to you more.

He wants to get to know you more.

He gives you a fond smile as he catches up with you once more. Hyunjin doesn’t know the connotation behind your question, and he doesn’t know what premise his answer falls under either.

Still, he says, “I already do.”

“Oh, we’re here!” You yell out and immediately quiet down when you realize everyone around you must be asleep right now. “Sorry.” Now in a whisper as you look around sheepishly.

“Can you get in safely?” He questions, worry still eminent in the way he speaks, even as you nod your head to answer his question.

“Don’t worry about me. Bye bye!” When you slip into your home, you immediately fall face first on your mattress and fall asleep. Drinking can be so draining when the world around you spins.

You don’t think about the splitting headache waiting for you the next day.

six.

You're fucked.

This much is clear as you finally finish vomiting in your toilet, images from the night before flashing in your mind— the giggling, the stumbling, and poor Hyunjin. You can still hear his voice in your head, telling you to get in safely. You can still feel the way his hand hovered over your back to make sure you don’t fall over.

Well, shit. This is way beyond anything you’ve ever done, moving up to the number one spot of the list you liked to label ‘embarrassment’. Calling Hyunjin miss and forgetting which pages go to which book moves down a spot at the sudden entry of your drunk ass.

“Kkami, what do I do?” You groan, head falling back against the wall of your bathroom as you stare at the ceiling. Will a letter of apology suffice for the way he had to take you home last night despite his exhaustion of driving to the city?

“This is so embarrassing.” Kkami consoles you by curling up by your side, paw resting on your thigh before his whole head drops to lay atop your leg.

Hyunjin is so pretty too. He’s enchanting in the way he speaks, and the way his eyes sparkle naturally when he does the things he loves. He’s unstinting with his kindness too, never losing patience even as you took a long time to repair the books you had offered to help with. You don’t even know if you helped much, but he never made a move to stop you even as time passed and you were making little progress.

It’s easy to fall into your embarrassment, which is how you find yourself with a notebook in hand, thinking of how the hell you were going to apologize to him. You don’t think you have it in you to go up to him face-to-face and have to recall the events of the night.

You might as well write something.

“About what happened last night…” You look at your notebook with critical eyes, immediately scratching it out to think of a better way to start your note.

“I’m sorry, Hyunjin. I don’t know how to say this.”

The second candidate is just as bad as the first one.

With your chin on the palm of your hands, you rack your brain for every possible way to say sorry. It’s not like apologizing was anything new to you, it’s even become a habit in your work life for the past few years. Always doing something wrong. Always apologizing. Even if it was never your fault to begin with. Though, this time, you want it to be genuine. You don’t want to imitate the phony way you’ve said sorry before.

Your eyes are glazed as you stare at the piece of paper.

Hyunjin has a routine fixed, so you make it a point to reach the library at noon when he’s busy pushing a trolley full of books to return them to where they belong on the bookshelves. He only hears the bell ring when you walk into the library, like you always do.

Peering over the shelves, he finds himself smiling to himself when you wander inside the library. He peels his gaze away for a few seconds to return a few books to their spots, though, apparently that’s also the time it takes for him to hear the bell ringing again, to indicate that you had left just as quickly as you had walked in.

Tilting his head, Hyunjin backs away from his work to check his desk where a small note sits.

“I’m sorry…” with a small drawing underneath.

It looks like the work of a child, but Hyunjin could tell instantly that it was a portrait of you and him from the night before. It prompts a smile on his face, eyes flicking from the note to the door. He keeps the piece of paper in his drawer to think about later.

Hyunjin has never had the courage to strike while the iron was hot, but he finds himself walking out the public library in hopes of catching you before you’ve left.

He finds you seated on the bench outside, eyes trained on the screen of your phone with your legs outstretched.

“Excuse me.”

You almost drop your phone when you hear him, immediately standing up to greet him. He looks good, as he always does. His complexion shines even prettier under the sun. The natural lighting highlights his hair in that it looks more dark brown than black. And his smile. It’s a little less shy now, and more open.

“Thank you for the note… and the drawing.”

He sounds like an angel too. You’ve always found his voice pretty, in a different way from Felix’s deep ocean voice. His was gentle, soft, and way nicer than you remember it being.

You try to think of the right words to say, sputtering over whether you should bring back what had happened last night or simply accept his thanks.

Taking a deep breath, you nod your head. “You’re welcome.”

Hyunjin has his hands clasped together in front of him as you speak, rocking himself back and forth on the heel and soles of his feet.

“You must’ve come in safely, then.” You laugh a little at what he says, and it only makes his smile brighter.

“Yeah. I’m sorry again.” It makes you cringe when you think of your behavior, but Hyunjin doesn’t seem to mind at all when he puts his hand up as a motion for you to stop apologizing.

“Not at all. I’m just glad to know you’re okay.”

The statement has your cheeks warming up, staring at him and the bag of ice cream you had initially brought for you and Felix. He had texted you earlier saying he couldn’t make it, and promised that he’d be the one to buy the ice cream next time.

Ice cream can be a good peace offering.

Grabbing the bag, you lift it up and smile coyly at the boy. “Do you want some ice cream?”

Hyunjin’s eyes form into crescents at your offer, lips curling up into an easy smile as he makes his way to sit adjacent to you. It feels nice like this, sitting outside in the breeze with only the two of you as you hand him the ice cream flavor of his liking, the tree just behind you doing a great job at shielding you enough that the sun’s heat isn’t too hot, but is still there.

“You know, I prefer cone ice creams over popsicles.” You mention suddenly, looking down at your cone and peering at the popsicle he had chosen for himself. He hums at the information, eyes softening when you ask him the same thing, like his opinions matter to you. Like you want to get to know him too. “What about you?”

“I’m not a big…” He catches himself before he can continue. Hyunjin isn’t the biggest fan of ice cream, but he finds himself unable to reject your offer. It’s an opportunity to sit in this moment with you.

He’d eat ice cream over and over again if it meant being able to stay in this moment.

“Well, ice cream does taste good, but the apple flavor…” He finds that he has a hard time answering your question, pausing to ponder over his words. It has you giggling. He looks cute thinking his options over.

“You don’t have to answer me.”

“But this one is good.” He lifts the popsicle in his hand, taking a bite out of it to show that he was being truthful with his words.

You laugh this time.

“You know, I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing when I first got here. But, I found myself falling in love with the library.” Hyunjin looks at you when you speak, unlike his previous inability to maintain eye contact with you.

“You’ve actually told me that already.”

You tilt your head in confusion. “I have? When?”

“Back then.” He’s gesturing something with his hands, and you continue to stare at him to try and decipher what he was acting out. Though, it’s pretty quick to figure out once he pretends to drink out of a shot glass, and your eyes widen at the realization of when he was referring to.

“Back then?” You repeat, and he chuckles at the way you roll your head back in embarrassment.

He hums in confirmation.

“What else did I say? When I… you know…” You trail off, looking at him for answers, but not quite wanting to repeat the words. He takes the hint well.

He laughs, before shaking his head. “It wasn’t so much talking, but rather singing.”

“I sang?” You stare at him dumbfounded as you try and recall what exactly happened. “I actually sang?” You laugh out loud this time, and you fail to notice the way his entire face lights up at the sound.

“What did I sing?” You look shocked and confused, yet there’s a smile of amusement on your features when Hyunjin actually starts singing the melody you had the night before.

“Why…” He clears his throat. “Why do you appear before my eyes whenever I’m drunk?”

“Wait, stop! Oh my god. Please stop.” You reach forward, resting a hand on the table and leaning forward to get him to stop singing.

“Can you please forget about that entire night?” You bring your hands together almost begging, and he can only laugh in amusement at the way you’re reacting.

“I don’t really think about it that often—“

“You even sang the song!” You interrupt.

“That’s because you asked.” He lifts a hand to scratch at the nape of his neck, bashfully smiling.

“This is so embarrassing.” You hang your head, a wince of an apology soliciting itself from your throat as you swing your feet back and forth to physically cringe at yourself.

Seungmin arrives at that very moment, his own complaints spilling out and drowning yours out. He pauses when he finds Hyunjin outside with you, squinting his eyes suspiciously before letting it go in favor of complaining once again.

“They’re so annoying! They think they’re so high and mighty.” He drops at the seat next to Hyunjin, and you offer him the only ice cream you have left in your bag. You have no idea what he’s talking about, but it seems Hyunjin knows all about it.

“They won’t do it?” Hyunjin asks, and Seungmin all but sighs as he starts peeling the wrapper off the ice cream.

“I mean, I guess it’s not easy to come down here to listen to old people talk.” Seungmin takes an annoyed bite, throwing his head back. “They might make me write the article, too. And I have to do it tomorrow. Can’t someone else do it?”

An idea forms in his head.

Hyunjin looks at you gingerly, and Seungmin visibly perks up when he follows the boy’s line of sight. You clear your throat, suddenly breaking eye contact and looking anywhere but the two boys.

“Will you please do it?” He grins wickedly, whole body tilted to face you as he reaches out to grab your attention.

“Well, you see…” You mumble. “I only proofread when I was working at a publishing company.” You point out sheepishly between each bite at your ice cream, doing your best to not look at Seungmin.

“The fact that you proofread means you’re familiar with writing.”

"Still…” You trail off with your words, not knowing how to defend yourself any further when Seungmin is clasping his hands and begging you to help them do the work. “I’m just not very confident.”

“(Name).” Hyunjin calls, and you look at him in hopes that he has a plan in mind to save you from Seungmin’s request.

“Why do you appear before my eyes…”

Your mouth drops at his words.

“What did you say?” Seungmin questions, and you look back at the boy to subtly shake your head, as if trying to get him to stop. Instead, he smiles a little mischievously.

“Whenever I’m…” You wince, immediately putting a hand up to stop him. Fortunately for Hyunjin, you’ve been begging him to forget about the night before, so you feel as though you owe him something.

With your head hung lightly and a look of defeat on your face, you finally agree to Seungmin’s request.

seven.

When you arrive, Hyunjin is already waiting for you with a camera slung around his neck. He looks so pretty with his hair falling messily over his shoulder. He’s wearing a white shirt and some jeans, though, what catches your eye the most is the huge knitted sweater he’s wearing.

“Hello, good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon.”

You fail to notice his own reaction, too busy admiring his beauty to realize he’s doing the same. Opposite you, Hyunjin’s jaw-dropping reaction to what you’re wearing is staring at your face with a small smile playing on his lips. He’s fiddling with his camera now, eyes traveling from the clip you’re wearing on your hair to the cherry lip balm you’d applied just before leaving.

What colors was he using painting you in his head? Pastel hues with a tinge of vibrancy.

“Shall we go then?” Suddenly, he can’t look at you, eyes trained just behind you as he asks.

“Okay.”

It doesn’t feel like a far walk with Hyunjin next to you. In fact, it barely takes 15 minutes before you reach the house of the person you’re supposed to be interviewing.

The outside of her home is beautiful, and an older woman you don’t recognize greets you and helps you both inside. Her home is surrounded by a wide expanse of grass, the view of the sea beautiful from a distance. The house itself is built with wood, and the row of vegetable plants lining up behind the low-standing table outside provides a breath of fresh air.

“Good afternoon. We’re here for an interview.” You inform politely, and she nods her head as if finally remembering why she’s letting two strangers into her home.

“Sit down, sit down.” Her tone is welcoming as she urges you to sit down, allowing Hyunjin to set up the camera on the camera stand he brought with him. Never imposing as she asks if you need anything else.

“You’re dressed so nicely.” You smile, the full view of her garden behind her accentuating her features. You’re sure she was quite the heartbreaker when she was younger.

“Just relax, and imagine you’re having a chat with your daughter.”

The interview goes smoothly. You ask her of things big and small—her age, her family, her history with Angok, anything you can think of. Seungmin didn’t give you any specifics to ask, just that you would write about her life. In this way, you’d be getting to know her.

She speaks of her children and grandchildren with so much love, that it almost makes you envious that you don’t have a grandmother figure to lean on. You’re all you really have left.

When you look over at Hyunjin, he gives you a toothless grin, as if to assure you you’re doing a great job. It lasts around an hour, and you’re just about ready to go home when she stops you and Hyunjin from fixing up.

“Oh, goodness.” She doesn’t need to ask for Hyunjin to hurry his way to her, grabbing the huge platter of food she grabbed from inside her house, settling it where you had sat earlier.

“I had no idea it was time for food. You guys must be hungry. Come on, let’s eat.”

“Thank you for the food.” You both say, and she only smiles as she admires the young couple in front of her.

The food is cooked with care, having just the right amount of seasoning. There’s a variety of vegetables which you assume to have been freshly picked from the garden she has. Hyunjin seems to mirror your thoughts, immediately praising her for the food.

“The food is delicious.”

“Really?” She finds pleasure in the way you’re enjoying your food. Perhaps, she was trying to catch a glimpse of her children in the two of you.

“Are you two married?” You and Hyunjin pause from eating, staring at each other before looking back at the older woman.

“No, we’re not.” You answer for him, laughing a little at the accusation she had just made. “We’re not married.”

“Oh, too bad. You guys would make a great couple if you were to marry.” She says light-heartedly, staring directly at the boy who’s refusing to make any eye contact at the sudden topic change. Hyunjin nearly chokes on the lettuce he’s eating, coughing a little as he mutters a string of apologies. She only smiles knowingly, offering up some water to the poor boy.

He swallows down his food, putting on a cordial smile directed at the old woman.

The rest of the time plays out without any more questions as to what the relationship is between the two of you, which Hyunjin is more than grateful for. He’s afraid of tripping over his own feet when you’re mentioned as his girlfriend one more time, as if choking on his food wasn’t enough already.

At some point, while you’d been talking, the sun had started to set which prompts the older woman to send in a flurry of farewells as she ushers the pair of you to get home safely.

Looking at you now, while the orange hues of the sun falls on your face, Hyunjin concludes that he feels something for you, evident in the way his heart starts beating a little faster and his palms start to sweat when you’re around. The awkward atmosphere between the two of you is long gone, and he finds himself hearing the gentle undertone of your voice in his head before he falls asleep.

He’s even more floored after today, after having seen first hand how you treat people with so much kindness—even Seungmin, who’s the number one enemy on everyone’s list in this small village. He admires the way you smile at strangers, and your eloquence in conversations even with the little words you say.

It’s only been a while of knowing you, yet he finds himself thinking about you all the time. From the first day you met that muggy afternoon, to how you helped him with repairing the books, even that drunken night where you had sang for him, and the morning after when you shared ice cream with him. He finds himself repeating these moments with you over and over in his head, like sifted sand, until they’re properly engraved in his mind.

“You know… all I really did today was listen to her stories, but my heart feels at ease because of it.”

Hyunjin looks at you as you walk side by side each other, the sunset’s glow falling on everything around you.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

When the wind blows, leaves from the trees lined up near you float around you. From time to time, you’d hear the crunch of crushed leaves as you step on them. All the while, Hyunjin is walking close to you, watching you and listening to you.

“Thank you for working with me on this.” Hyunjin suddenly says, words softer than expected as he locks eyes with you. He wants you to know he’s genuine in his gratitude.

“I hope you’ll like my writing once you get to read it.” You smile nervously, keeping eye contact with him, and you don’t know how pivotal this moment is for the boy. How your kindness is pulling him deeper and deeper into you, everything about you—your sweet smile and your bright eyes.

“I will.”

Talking to you feels easy and natural.

“You will?” A small smile creeps onto your face at his response, and he nods his head in confirmation.

Silence passes.

“I hope we can keep working on this together.” Hyunjin surprises himself with how straightforward he can be with you, with how easy it is to tell you he wants to keep spending time with you.

“If you buy me dinner tomorrow, I’ll think about it.”

The whole world stops in this pocket of time. While everyone goes about their evening, Hyunjin is stuck on your words. Your eyes glisten with a certain type of glow no one can replicate, and he thinks he’ll always remember your face right now, smiling fondly at him, lit by the setting sun.

“Okay. Dinner tomorrow.”

Heat continuously rises to his face the more you look at him, but Hyunjin supposes he can blame it on the sun for now.

eight.

It is exactly 6:36 in the evening when you meet Hyunjin at the library to grab dinner with him.

When the bell rings, he can’t help the smile on his face when he realizes it’s you that’s walking into the library. He never used to smile this much before. But it can’t be helped, not when it’s you.

“Hello.” He’s the one who speaks first.

“Hi.” You reply, mimicking the smile on his face. His eyes are glossy when you meet them.

“Shall we go to dinner?” He lets out a small breath, hovering just in front of you.

Hyunjin looks like a bundle of nerves. You don’t know that, in his head, this feels akin to a first date. One he hasn’t gone on in a long time. So, on the outside, he’s perfectly composed, eyes dropping on the wooden ground. On the inside, however, he’s sweating and twisting and turning and screaming that he’s about to have dinner with you.

“What? Are you buying dinner?” Seungmin’s nosy ears perks up at the mention of dinner, immediately moving from his place behind the desk to join the two of you. “I was just starting to get hungry. Come on, let’s go.”

While Hyunjin wants to be upset at the sudden third wheeling of Kim Seungmin, he finds that he isn’t.

As funny as it sounds, he’s kind of grateful for the sudden interruption. He’s too afraid that if you were to have dinner together, alone, and his fried brain was convincing him it was a first date—his feelings would become too real. He knows he likes you, but he doesn’t want to act on it too soon. He doesn’t want to scare you off, doesn’t want to scare himself off.

Hyunjin has way too much of a feeble heart, that even walking beside you right now, with your hands slightly brushing against the other, he can already hear his heart beating in his ears.

He has always thought of himself as patient, so he doesn’t understand why there’s a growing irritation at the back of his head for the inability to hold your hand in his. It’s even more confusing as he knows he’s never been the type to crave for skinship, never eager for physical touch. So, what’s changed?

“Yah, Lee Minho!” Seungmin’s voice is loud as he walks into the restaurant, though, a much younger boy greets him.

“Innie, where’s Minho?” Jeongin gestures at the kitchen, immediately setting off to find the older boy at the request of Seungmin.

You hide behind Hyunjin the moment Minho appears from the kitchen. You’re sure the memories from that night are still fresh in his mind, and he’d been the first to witness your drunken, hazy state. When he sees you, his lips tug into a lazy smirk, but he chooses not to say anything.

“We went to interview that old lady yesterday.” Hyunjin feels the need to inform Seungmin who’s smiling, pleased with his ability to coerce you into helping them out.

Everyone finally settles down into their seats, Hyunjin cooking the meat silently as conversation starts. Jeongin joins you not long after, asking if it was alright. Your food sizzles behind the chatter around your table.

“What interview?” Jeongin asks.

“A writer didn’t show up, so (Name) did the interview instead.” Seungmin informs the table, and Jeongin nods in pretense of understanding the situation.

“How did you know how to do that? Where did you work in Seoul?” Minho’s the one to ask this time as he refills your meat, setting down a plate of raw pork just by Hyunjin’s arm.

“She worked at a publishing company.” Seungmin says with a mouth full of food.

“I see. Then you must’ve had a lot of boyfriends.”

You tilt your head at Jeongin’s sudden proposition, like he’s trying to fit two completely different puzzle pieces. There’s absolutely no correlation between working at a publishing company and having multiple boyfriends. It seems Seungmin is wondering the same thing, cogs turning in his brain at Jeongin’s stupid question.

“How are those two related?” He deadpans.

“I’ve always found well-read girls charming and attractive.” Jeongin simply shrugs, shoving down another piece of cut-up meat in his mouth before chewing. “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

You fail to notice the way Hyunjin suddenly leans closer to the table, suddenly finding interest in the topic when he had been absent for most of the conversation.

“Oh, I used to have one. But we broke up.” You laugh a little nervously, quietly thanking Hyunjin who sets a few cooked pieces of pork on your plate so you don’t run out while eating.

“Why? How long did it last?”

Jeongin and Seungmin seem to have a lot of questions, and you can see Hyunjin sending them a side eye from your peripheral vision at their rather invasive question.

“Quite a long—“

Hyunjin concludes he doesn’t need to know anything about your ex-boyfriend. He smoothly interrupts the conversation by stuffing food in Seungmin’s mouth. “This is about to burn, you should eat it.”

He glares at the boy viciously, but even the scowl on Seungmin’s face couldn't crack Hyunjin’s persistence in cutting the conversation short. He doesn’t know if it's jealousy, never having felt it before, but he knows he doesn’t want the image of you kissing another boy imprinted in his mind.

Thankfully, Jeongin moves on to another topic, speaking about how he’s in the last year of college and how much he hates it. All the while, you and Hyunjin share small smiles from across the table.

You both let Jeongin and Seungmin carry the conversation. You were never good at keeping the flow of one going anyways. So, instead, you play the listening role. The one you’ve always been good at.

Throughout dinner, Hyunjin does little things for you. He refills your empty glass of water, he puts meat on your plate so you don’t run out, and he constantly checks up on you—to see whether you were overwhelmed with the loudness of the two boys.

He does so by looking at you with an endearing smile, light dimples on his cheeks as he chuckles when you smile back at him. It’s a quiet conversation between the two of you, even if it’s just communication between smiles. Hyunjin is like a breath of fresh air from the crackling volume surrounding you.

He offers to walk you home after the four of you finish up with dinner, telling you that he couldn’t allow himself to simply let you walk alone in the dark. You respond with the crinkling of your eyes and a soft ‘thank you’.

Being with Hyunjin, alone, is quite possibly the purest form of comfort you will ever know. He’s tender and gentle and attentive, like he knows what it’s like to have the peace you value being breached constantly. Though, lately, you find that the quiet you crave for isn’t necessarily complete silence. It’s the comfortable and uninterrupted calm you feel when you’re with Hyunjin—whether at the library or walking home together from dinner. When he’s with you, warmth always makes an appearance.

There is no demand to make conversation.

You let your gaze veer off to the sea and how the waves crash along the shore. There's a breeze softly wafting through your hair, and you smile at just being able to view the ocean anytime you want. A pleasure you’ve always been denied off back in the city.

As your simple house comes into view, your shoulders fall at knowing he would have to leave now. You stop in your tracks, biting at your lips, and Hyunjin waits for you to say something. Never demanding. Always patient.

“Do you wanna meet my dog?”

His mouth opens in response, before a toothless smile forms in his features. “I’d like that.”

Kkami’s wiggling body with his wagging tail is the first to greet you when you open the door. You crouch down, arms open so he can jump onto you just the way he likes. “I’m back. I’m sorry to keep you waiting all this time.”

“Come in, come in.” You urge Hyunjin to get in, resuming your standing position so you can close the door behind him. “You can keep your shoes on if you’d like.”

He refuses, immediately taking them off before crouching down to greet the long-haired Chihuahua. They get along right away, Kkami constantly tapping his paw on Hyunjin’s knees to get his attention.

“I’ll get you something to drink.” You disappear into the kitchen, grabbing him a glass of water before hurriedly returning.

His hand brushes against yours when he reaches to take the glass from you, and you hate how fumbly the simple gesture gets you. It makes you feel like you’re back in high school, helplessly crushing on the boy who’s way out of your league.

“I think he likes you more than me now.” You crouch back down, looking at the way Kkami nudges his head on the side of Hyunjin’s thigh.

“I think he’s just a friendly dog.” He reassures you, though, he can’t help but feel a little pride that your dog immediately warms up to him. He’s always wanted a dog too.

When Kkami starts to give his attention back to you, Hyunjin calls him back. “Come here. There’s food here, can’t you see?”

His false bribery has you laughing.

“Now you’re just lying to my dog.”

He’s unfazed, continuing to lie to your poor dog about the invisible food he has in hand. “I have food for you, come here.”

“Wow, my dog left me and chose you because of your fake food.” You pout when Kkami successfully sits himself on Hyunjin’s lap, barking in glee when the boy rubs the back of his ears.

He sets the empty glass on a table nearby, careful not to drop it with Kkami still on him, gaze falling on the ring around your finger when you take it so it’s safe in your kitchen sink.

“Your ring is really pretty.” His compliment is genuine, and you can’t help but smile as you look down at the metal band your mother had given you, the one you started wearing since your brother called.

“My mom gave it to me. It has the number 220 engraved on it, apparently for bravery.”

“Suits you very well then.”

“I was really afraid when I first moved here, you know. I had no idea what I was doing. I thought I’d fallen into defeat.”

You recall your uncertainty when you had left everything you’d ever known in the city, following the heartbeat in the town of Angok.

“Men are not created with defeat in mind. We may fall at times, but we’re never defeated.”

“That’s a good line.”

“I stole it from a book.” He says sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Wanna know something cool?”

You nodded your head, sitting with your legs crossed on the floor in front of him.

“Your ring has the number 220, right? Well, back in college, I used to play sports. My jersey number was 284.” You don’t know where he’s going with this, but you listen anyway.

“They’re both amicable numbers. The sum of factors of 220 is 284, and the sum of the facts of 284 is 220.” He says with a smile, hands smoothing down your chihuahua’s fur. “These numbers are linked together by some fate, like your ring and my jersey.”

Hyunjin is a quiet surprise, sputtering about amicable numbers and mathematics to you. It’s almost endearing, how he had found something between the two of you and connected it to something he knows.

Your ring and his jersey. Amicable numbers.

There is so much to Hyunjin, so much you still don’t know and want to learn.

“That is pretty cool.” You think back about it in your head, how rare these numbers are, and how they found themselves to the both of you. Maybe knowing Hyunjin has always been written in the stars, and maybe you’ll know him in every lifetime after this one.

At the same time, Hyunjin is grinning to himself. He’d always thought love was far off, but it looks like it’s been in front of him this whole time, smiling back at him. He knows what he’s feeling, this overwhelming warmth, and he knows it’s real now more than ever.

In this moment, there is nothing else but you, him and Kkami and the knowledge that he’s falling in love with you. Right here, right now, all he sees are your eyes and your smile and the way your hands are brushing as you lean down to scratch Kkami’s ears.

Hyunjin feels like his heart is about to burst, and he has to clear his throat and put Kkami down in some poor excuse of needing to get home. He has to before he does something he might regret. The tides of the waves are pulling at him to make a move on you, and he’s afraid he might never make it to shore at the sheer overwhelmingness of his feelings for you. Could it be possible that you made a move instead?

“I think I have to get going now.” He whispers, and you nod your head, moving to stand up when he does. “Thanks for coming to meet Kkami. You should say goodbye to Hyunjin. Say thank you for visiting! Goodbye!”

You move Kkami’s paw to imitate waving.

“Goodbye!” His smile is wide as he bends down to wave back at your dog, taking small steps backwards until he’s by your door.

“I’ll write up a story about the lady we interviewed and send it to you.” You mention, fumbling with the knob to open it for him.

“Sure.” When you don’t make a move to say anything else, he turns his back to start walking away.

“By the way…” Hyunjin immediately turns back around, both hopeful and hesitant at what you have to say to him. His eyes hold yours, waiting for you to continue. “Are you free—“

“Good evening!” Chan’s booming voice interrupts what you were able to say. “Sorry it took me so long. I’m here to help you with the water leakage?”

You’d almost forgotten. You had called Chan earlier this morning to ask if he could help you fix up the issue with your sink.

“No, it’s okay. Hi, good evening.”

“Weren’t you about to say something?” He asks, and you suddenly feel too shy to ask if he wanted to hangout with you soon. The Little Mermaid live action was coming out soon, and you’d been excited to check it out. You thought, maybe it would be fun to watch it with him.

“Ah, it’s nothing.” An unidentifiable emotion flickers in Hyunjin’s features when you suddenly double back on what you were supposed to say—of dejection? You can’t say for sure, especially when a small smile returns to his face and he’s waving goodbye at you one last time.

“Chan, come in.” In your head, you’re still bruising yourself over cowardly backing down from asking Hyunjin to eat dinner with you tomorrow, hopefully with just you two this time.

Your water leakage problem doesn’t take too many steps, but it does need a few tools that only Chan has. When he finishes, you tell him to sit down a little, finding something to offer him for fixing up what had been broken under your sink.

“What’s going on between you and Hyunjin?” It catches you off guard, the unfiltered way he suddenly asks the question with obvious teasing dripping down his tone.

“Nothing.” You say too quickly, shaking your head.

“I was kidding. You don’t have to tell me.”

“Aren’t you gonna pry?” You’re not used to anyone not prying. Back in the city, you barely could keep anything a secret. Always forced. Always fidgety with the way they ask you questions, only to use that information against you later.

“No. As long as you’re happy, and both of you don’t get yourself hurt.”

His considerateness is breathtaking, and it almost has you tearing up the way he treats you better than your own brother. Chan doesn’t need to hug you for you to feel safe, he just has to smile and look at you with his eyes round of warmth.

He feels familiar, like… family. You think this is what family should feel like.

“Thank you, Chan.” You breathe, and he breathes with you. He reminds you he’s only one call away, and your heart feels like it’s being stripped until it’s bare.

This is family. Chan is family.

And Hyunjin quite possibly is love.

nine.

The epiphany you had posed to yourself the night before proved to be almost as difficult as the one you had when you had left the city. Inevitable, but that doesn’t mean it scared you less. Uncertainties often make you feel vulnerable, and what is love but a thread of uncertainties waiting to be untangled?

You can’t focus in your little rented space, the four corners tend to look smaller and smaller when you’ve trapped yourself long enough in your head. It’s terrifying, to feel the walls closing in on you. So, you might as well take Kkami out on a walk where you aren’t encased in liminal space.

The breeze outside is the kind that takes all the weight off your chest, leaving you to start anew in your train of thoughts. When you try to find the beginning of when you had started to see Hyunjin differently, you lose the thread and find yourself empty-handed. No one has told you how difficult it is to tend to the knotted spool of love.

Was it in his kindness which he showed in the smallest ways, barely noticeable but there when you look close enough? He doesn’t smile in large amplified ways, but the way he looks at you with intention leaves such an impact.

Everything he does—on purpose and by choice and intentionally. From the way he constantly checks on you, and the umbrella he had offered, and the patience that never seems to run thin. He smiles and talks to you by choice, and he gets to know your dog intentionally. You’re enamored with the entirety of Hyunjin, with the way he’s passionate about his job, and the gentle way in which he helps those around him whether that’s driving Seungmin to Seoul or treating Jeongin to dinner. He’s beautiful as he listens, as he shows that he will always listen.

It’s a lot to handle, and it’s a huge epiphany to admit to yourself, so you walk without destination. Nature and the beauties of Angok, you find, can take your mind off of anything. Just like that day you had escaped the city.

There are birds singing from the trees, accompanying the wind with their tunes as they whistle. The breeze carries it everywhere, the sound of their whistling, the crashing of the waves bathing the seashore. Had you really existed in a time before you’d known the salt of the ocean breeze and the sun shining the entire village with a glow?

Everything is beautiful here. There’s nothing that isn’t with the flurry of color bursting in the town of Angok, with the gentle chatter of generations of people who live there, with Hyunjin’s back walking a little ahead of you.

“Hyunjin?”

Maybe you don’t really care about the multitude of ways you can unravel the knotted spool. Maybe the only thing that matters is this moment with him, and every other moment with him.

He turns around immediately at the recognition of your voice, lifting a hand up to wave at you before greeting Kkami. You shoot him a smile, speeding up a little to catch up with him as he stands planted on his spot. Kkami runs faster than you do, already barking by Hyunjin’s feet and jumping up to get the boy’s attention.

There is no overthinking in the way he smiles back at you so easily. No thread to think about.

“Hi.” His gaze never falters from yours, even as noises stir around from a distance.

“Hello. I was just walking Kkami.”

“If we’re going the same way, why don’t we walk together?” He offers.

“Okay.”

A heartbeat passes.

“By the way, what are you doing out here? You know… instead of being in the library.” You ask inquisitively, not used to seeing him outside so early in the day.

“Seungmin’s been a bit anxious over the next part of his exams, so I went to buy him some food. It always calms him down.”

It’s only then you realize the bag of food he’s holding, and the sight only melts your heart further.

“You’re a really good friend.”

“I just do good upon others as I wish the same for myself.” How lovely, how he wants to make the world so painfully beautiful that people want to live in it.

“Well, the world isn't as cold and gloomy because of you.” You smile, and Hyunjin can’t help the way his words jumble up in his mouth at the kindness you utter. He’s wordless, all tangled in longing and flustered-ness.

You make him feel like he can hold sunlight in his hands.

“I’ll be going this way now.” A point in the opposite, and Hyunjin can only frown in disappointment of your time cut short.

“Take care.” He says, standing his ground as he watches you and Kkami start to walk away from him.

Static is zipping through the air, louder than ever. Hyunjin’s fiddling with the straps of his pants, contemplating and contemplating and contemplating—

“(Name)!” The sound of your name on Hyunjin’s lips makes your head instantly turn back.

“Yes?”

Hyunjin’s fumbling with everything he’s ever known, eyes falling to his own hands before back to yours.

“By any chance, are you going to have dinner—“ Hyunjin pauses. No, that doesn’t sound right. “I mean, are you busy tonight?”

“I’m not.”

A knowing smile on both your faces.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“I’d like that a lot.”

The thread is long gone.

ten.

Hyunjin has a profound ability of surprising you every time. He’s almost unpredictable in his kindness—showing up when you’re drunk, refilling your plate with meat, and now handing you a bag of dog toys for Kkami.

“I thought he might like this.”

“Oh, thank you.” You take the bag gratefully, smiling at the selection of chew toys inside before looking back up at the boy. “I haven’t gotten him anything nice, so thank you, really.”

“I also have this for you.” He brings out more shyly this time—a necklace beaded in shells. You look down at it, the necklace. No one’s given you anything in a long time. “You always have this look on your face when you look at the beach. So, it just… reminded me of you.”

You lift it up carefully, almost feather-like as you stare at the simple necklace.

“Hyunjin.” The way he’s looking at you is so powerful, yet so vulnerable at the same time, eyes tinging in hope that you’d like the little present he had gotten you. It’s a look you can feel inside. “Thank you.”

He helps you wear it when you attempt to wrap it around your neck yourself. Wordless, you don’t have to say anything as he gently closes it to encase it around your neck.

“Do you like it?” There it is again. That vulnerability.

“I love it.” You smile, hand lifting to fiddle with the necklace. “I’m never taking it off.”

Hyunjin’s eyes soften, features glowing under the streetlights as you finally resume your walk to where you’ll be eating dinner together.

He had called himself out multiple times as he was pondering over whether to buy it for you or not the moment he sees it, telling himself he was too obvious with the way he feels for you, and yet the thought of the sincerity in your face when you receive it overpowers the voice in his head. He finds himself getting it for you. He was always gonna get it for you the moment he saw the necklace.

“Then, do you want some chicken and beer?” Hyunjin asks as you reach a crossroad, multiple intersections splitting the road into separate parts of the village.

“Chicken and beer?”

“Mhm. Last night, I was actually gonna ask if you wanted chicken and beef before Seungmin tagged along.”

“Oh?” You smile at the thought. “That sounds good actually. Wait, let me search a place up.”

You barely even unlock your phone when Hyunjin starts speaking again.

“Well, if we go that way,” he motions to the first intersection. “There’s a really old place that sells amazing fried chicken. And there’s a place down that way where the interior is nice and spacious, but the chicken doesn’t taste as good.”

“And down that way,” he continues, pointing towards the other intersection. “There’s a place with outdoor tables known for its refreshing beer.”

“You’ve really done your research.” You grin, fiddling with the phone in your hands as you look at Hyunjin who has his shyly behind his back after he has finished speaking.

“Yeah.” He exhales, smile still on his face. “Just in case.

Just in case he got enough courage to ask you out is the continuation of his sentence, though he chooses to omit it for now.

“I…” You ponder, recounting the options in your head before forming a number 3 with your fingers. “Choose number three. Beer tends to vary more in taste than chicken.”

“I see.” He nods his head, taking your words in as he thinks about the numerous times fried chicken had tasted the same to him. “Well then, let’s go that way?”

A silver of the moon shines on the two of you as you settle down the table, arriving 10 minutes after you had pondered over your choices at the intersection. The night breeze is pleasant, blowing in between the two of you until your stomachs are full from the food.

“This is so refreshing.” You praise after having taken a chug out of your beer, leaning your head back to savor the taste longer. “Whoever thought of eating chicken and beer together is a genius.”

He listens, hanging on to every single word you say as he takes a bite out of his own piece. The sight has him wondering if you were free tomorrow too.

Similarly, you’re thinking if you should try to invite him to watch Little Mermaid with you again.

“Are you also busy tomorrow?” His sudden question has your cheeks heating up despite the cold of the breeze and the beer.

“Why? Do you wanna see a movie?” It comes out fast, blurted, speeding from your mouth.

“A movie?”

Oh, shit. You didn’t even realize how you’d suddenly sprung up the topic on him without so much as an introduction.

“What I meant was… there’s just this movie I really wanted to see, and I think it’s out in theaters already.” You laugh a little at your own slip up, hoping to have clarified it better.

The sound makes Hyunjin’s smile widen.

“I see.” He takes a sip out of his own beer.

It’s silent for a while. A second blending into a minute, until you decide you can’t take it any longer.”

“Do you want to come with—“

“Should we watch—“

You make eye contact the moment you speak over one another, and it’s enough to trigger the laughter that’s bubbling in your throats at the sheer coincidence of asking each other out at the same time.

“Only if it’s okay with you.” He says once the pair of you stop giggling, tone significantly softer..

Always putting your comfort at the top priority.

“I’d actually really like that.”

It’s all smiles as you pay for your meal, and you don’t quite notice the slow pace in which the two of you are walking home, as if never wanting the moment to end. As if the great sense of contentment is too much to let go of right away.

Your footsteps fall in with Hyunjin’s, and your smiles never leave your faces on the rest of your way home.

eleven.

Hyunjin spends two days in Seoul to accompany Seungmin as he finishes up the final stages of his Civil Licensure exam.

The first day away from the library is spent just at home, cleaning and finishing up on chores you’ve been meaning to do—putting away your clothes after doing laundry, feeding Kkami, sweeping the floors, and even dusting some shelves because of the abundance of free time. It’s therapeutic, the way you’re able to hold your own time and decide what you want to do for the day. In the afternoon, you walk your chihuahua outside, exploring more of Angok than you could’ve dreamed. It’s a beautiful village, and you find you don’t mind the lengthy walk. If it means you get to be with nature leisurely, you don’t have anything to complain about.

There’s so much time for happiness here, unlike the dark of your room in the city.

When you pass by the library the next day to continue mapping out Angok, you’re surprised to see the hunched over figure of Felix by the benches. You wonder what he’s doing here.

“Felix?” You speak cautiously, tentative even as you walk to his side.

The closer you get, the more you hear his sniffles. An alarm sounds in your head, and you immediately reach a hand over to rub his back as gently as possible. “What’s wrong?”

The words he mumbles are unclear, incoherent as they come out jumbled and stuttered. When he finally lifts his head up, the sight physically hurts you. Who could dare hurt the sun?

You move some of his hair out of his face, sitting down next to him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Instead of answering, he lunges forward, jumping in your arms to seek comfort in your hug. It catches you by surprise, not because you’re uncomfortable, but because it’s only now you realize how long you’ve gone without a hug. You didn’t grow up from an affectionate family, and your time in the city knew of no comfort. This feels far better than pressing your back against your bed.

Snapping from the initial shock, you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer which only seems to let him release a louder sob. It seems he really needed this.

“I just don’t want to disappoint anyone.” His words are deep and choked, head still buried on your shoulder as he soaks up the shirt you’re wearing.

“You could never disappoint anyone.” You run a hand through his hair, the other hand running smooth circles on his back.

You don’t know how long you hold him like this, but after a while, his tears finally subside and he moves to pull away from the embrace. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Reaching out, you swipe away the tears on his wet cheeks, smiling softly. You’re relieved when you see him return the gesture. It seems he doesn’t want to talk about what happened, but you find that it’s okay. He likes that you just listen without demanding him to tell you everything.

“Wanna go eat something at Minho’s? My treat.” You whisper, afraid to startle the poor boy, and his eyes seem to brighten at the suggestion.

“Would that really be okay?”

“Of course. Come on.” You walk with him to Minho’s little restaurant, making small conversation about anything he wants to talk about. If it means he’ll forget about whatever hurt him, you appease any topic that spills from his mouth.

“Ah, good afternoon (Name), Felix.” Minho waves when you enter his space, and you wave back at the boy.

He finally knows your name.

The ten minutes it takes to wait for the food is apparently the same time it takes for Jisung and Chan to stumble into the restaurant and greet the two of you loudly. They drop at where you’re seated, adjacent from you and Felix as they ask you questions of how you’re doing and what you two were up to.

You’re keen to stay as Felix’s emotional support, looking at him first before answering the two boys. It seems he feels way better now, in the presence of people he considers home.

“Look what I have.” Jisung brings out another tupperware from his bag, opening it up to reveal some cupcakes his mom had probably baked again. He excitedly takes one for each of you, babbling about how he can’t finish it all himself or else he’ll suffer from high blood pressure. “I’m glad I bumped into you guys. My mom’s been going crazy with the baking.”

“Felix likes baking too, right?” You turn to the boy next to you, and he nods his head as he recalls the conversation you had earlier on the way here.

“I’ve been trying to make some brownies.” He’s proud as he speaks, hands moving animatedly as he explains to them the process. The three of you listen carefully, immediately demanding him to bake some for you guys to which Felix says he will in his free time.

“Jeongin’s on his way.” Chan nudges Jisung who suddenly stands from his seat. He grabs a cupcake from the container, and you think he’s about to give it to the younger boy when suddenly, the icing crashes on the unsuspecting Jeongin’s nose.

“Are you nuts, Jisung?!” He exclaims, peeling the cupcake away from his icing-stained face.

“That’s what you get for rejecting my kisses.” Jisung smirks mischievously, though it’s quickly wiped off when Jeongin swiftly grabs a chunk of the icing and slaps it on the older boy’s cheek.

Minho’s voice is booming as he says, “Hey, don’t get the floors dirty!”, though there seems to be a hint of fondness on his features as he watches everything unfold before him.

“Oh my god.” With a hand covering your mouth, you can’t help the giggles from spewing it as Felix snorts from beside you.

“Come here, let’s wipe it off.” You get up from your seat, guiding Jeongin to the seat next to yours as you grab a pack of tissues from your bag, moving to wipe the smeared icing from his nose, cheeks, and eyes.

“What about me?” Jisung pouts, and Chan all but laughs as he pulls the boy down to start doing the same thing.

“Are you guys okay?” Felix’s voice is way steadier now, more than it was earlier, and it even holds laughter in it. Your heartbeat calms down at knowing he must feel better. At least this moment can take away what pained him, even for a few hours.

“You have a death wish, Han Jisung.”

“Not the government name.”

Though, Jisung only laughs at the threats spilling from Jeongin’s lips, proud of his work.

When Minho brings the food, Jisung successfully pulls him down to eat with all of you. It’s polarizing how you used to hate meal times, used to hate thinking about what to eat, or the fact that you’d be eating alone. Now, with laughter roaring from your table, you find yourself excited.

People are calling out for you to eat.

You spend hours there, listening to their stories. Before you know it, night dawns upon you, and Felix offers to walk you home.

“(Name)?”

“Hm?” You turn your head to look at Felix who’s already looking at you with a smile on his face.

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything, though.” You laugh, and Felix shakes his head as he maintains unwavering eye contact.

“Thanks to you, I feel happier now.” There’s a toothless grin on his face, though, it’s threatening to grow even wider by the second.

He genuinely looks happy.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Felix’s words stay stuck in your mind even as you lay down to sleep. For a brief moment, you were able to make him happier. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more accomplished than this very moment. There are no words to describe how beautiful the feeling is of being the cause of someone’s smile.

The rest of the night is spent thinking, and it’s only when your phone buzzes is it interrupted.

hyunjin (10:48pm): hi, are you asleep? i hope i’m not bothering you

yn (10:49pm): hello! not asleep yet :) you’re not bothering me at all

hyunjin (10:51pm): seungmin’s exams ran longer than i thought

yn (10:51pm): tell him i said hi !!

hyunjin (10:52pm): is texting a bother? do your wrists hurt when you type?

yn (10:52pm): just a little

He calls you suddenly, and it’s enough for your heart to jump straight out of your chest. Pressing the phone to your ear, you finally speak. “Hello?”

“I hope your wrists don’t hurt anymore.” You can hear the mumble of cars honking in the background, but his words tune them out.

“I guess this will do.”

Hyunjin pauses for a moment, allowing himself the moment to soak up the warmth of your voice and how two days is far too long to be away from your sweet voice.

“It’s nice to hear your voice.”

You swallow hard, shutting your eyes as you bring the phone away a little to let out a suppressed scream. You feel like a schoolgirl, kicking your feet and giggling over his words.

Calming yourself down, you reply, “But, don’t you have to sleep now?”

“Hmm, not yet.“

“Well, what do you wanna talk about?”

“Everything. I wanna know everything about you.” He breathes from his end of the line, running a hand through his hair.

You can hear the sincerity from his voice even if you can’t see him.

“Oh.” You murmur. There’s a blush playing on your cheeks. How is he able to make you feel everything all at once?

The conversation lasts almost 2 hours, until he has to let you go so you can sleep before the clock strikes one in the morning. He feels slightly terrible for keeping you up, but he’s selfish in that it doesn’t bother him that much. Hyunjin missed you, missed the lull of your voice, and he’s happy to have heard it before going to sleep.

“I’ll see you tomorrow? For the movie?”

“Okay. See you.”

You can almost see him, open-mouthed smiles as he speaks. It’s always so evident in his voice when he does.

“Goodnight.”

“Sleep well.”

Hyunjin drifts off to sleep, and it’s the best one he’s had since yesterday.

twelve.

You tug at the dress you’re wearing as you wait outside the theater building. It’s a simple sleeveless white dress that goes down just above your knees, yet you’re still a little nervous whether you’re underdressed or overdressed. Your hair is down as it always is, a little messed up from the wind, and you had worn lip gloss after Kkami had barked once when you’d asked him.

It’s a simple theater for a simple date. You’re not even sure if you could call it a date, yet you were both ecstatic to finally watch the movie and to watch it with Hyunjin.

Smoothening down the creases of your dress that aren’t even there, you finally catch sight of Hyunjin from afar. He looks so handsome with his white sweater and denim pants, hair tucked behind his ears as he wears a pretty-boy-but-is-unaware smile.

Aphrodite’s son.

He’s waving at you, cheeks flushed in a warmth you fail to see as you try to suppress your own grin.

His knee-jerking reaction to you is open-mouthed staring, eyes moving from your eyes to your lips to your hair to your dress all in the span of a second.

Hyunjin isn’t as relaxed as he thought he was. He had prepared himself to see you again after two days, prepared to watch a movie with you and possibly brush hands as you reach for the popcorn, though he wasn’t quite prepared for the white dress you’re wearing. His brain short circuits, and he’s malfunctioning.

“Shall we head inside?”

He’s not able to respond right away. You’re pretty, and he’s nervous, and you’re pretty, and his palms are sweating, and you’re pretty, and words are failing him, and you’re pretty, and you’re shifting your weight back and forth, and you’re so pretty.

“(Name).” Hyunjin’s finally able to say. “You look beautiful."

You look up at him and he looks away. You can only blush in response as you thank him, fiddling with the necklace you’re wearing.

“I’m wearing this by the way.” If Hyunjin thought he couldn’t smile even more, he was wrong, especially peering down at the necklace he had gifted you. The one you’re wearing.

It was nearly seven o'clock when you finished watching the movie. You’re still excited over seeing one of your favorite Disney princess’s on the big screen, but you’re starting to feel a little tired.

The crowded bus was too much for the both of you, so you decide to walk back together. Thirty minutes might sound like a long walk, but Hyunjin begs to differ if it meant being separated from you at the end of it.

Thirty minutes is way too short to walk with you.

“The movie was fun.” He breaks the silence, and you nod your head in agreement with a huge smile on your face. You can still picture Ariel in your head, yet what stuck out most to you was the panicked way Hyunjin had been when he first walked in before completely relaxing when he was seated next to you.

“Hyunjin.”

“Yes?”

“You seemed like you’ve never been to a theater before.”

“It is my first time.” He looks down at his feet, a small grin tugging on his lips at how he’ll forever be able to hold the memory of watching a movie for the first time in theaters.

Especially when it was with you.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“That’s amazing.” It comes out as a whisper, genuinely shocked that Hyunjin hadn’t bothered coming into theaters at all. There’s so much to him, and you want to learn them all.

“Why don’t we kill some time by playing 21 questions?”

“Okay.” He replies a little too quickly for his liking. He can’t hide his eagerness at getting to know you and everything about you. Like that phone call last night.

“Okay.” You repeat, smiling while nodding your head as you think of a question to ask. “Hmm, what’s your favorite fruit?”

“Apples are my favorite.”

“Wow, you answered so quickly.” A quiet chuckle escapes his lips at the realization. Though, you should’ve made the connection when he had mentioned apples back when you had offered him some ice cream.

“Mine are strawberries!” You point excitedly at the black crochet bag you always carry with you, a big strawberry in the middle.

“Strawberries.” He keeps in mind, looking back at you as you keep talking, asking him one question after the other.

You are so lovely, Hyunjin thinks. The sort of person puts a smile on everyone’s face when you walk into the room. The way you quietly speak and the humble way in which you treat everyone has Hyunjin thinking that you must be unaware of how much of an impact you actually have on the people around you.

Seungmin is thankful for you, admiring your hard work. Hyunjin has caught him rereading the article you had written multiple times, praise leaving his lips when he thinks no one can hear.

Chan sees you as a little sister, so fond of you in such a short amount of time. He thinks he’d do anything to keep that smile on your face.

Felix thinks of flowers when he sees you.

“Oh, the moon looks so pretty tonight.” You suddenly mention, staring wondrously at the bright moon and the way the stars litter the sky.

“Do you wanna sit down for a moment?”

“Can we?” The excitement in your voice is hard to miss as Hyunjin guides you over to sit on a block situated at the side of the street. It’s the perfect spot, offering you a view of the sea and the pretty night sky.

You close your eyes to listen to the waves crashing clearer, to feel the breeze better, to smell the salty scent of the sea.

Your thoughts drift everywhere; to your escape from the city to the first time you met Hyunjin and the way he hadn’t spoken a single word to you. It’s always been at the back of your head, but you never so much as spared it any time to resurface. Though, now was probably the perfect time to ask him about it.

“Can I ask one more question?”

“Of course.”

“When we first met, why did you not talk to me?”

Hyunjin thinks back at the time, almost letting out a small laugh in embarrassment when he remembers the way he had greeted you with nothing but silence. It was only a matter of time before you’d ask him.

“Actually…” He looks down at his hands, carefully folded on his lap. “I have trouble talking to strangers.”

“Does that mean you feel comfortable around me now?” Oh, his stomach doesn’t feel so great at the way you’re looking at him right now. He has never felt such violent butterflies in his stomach.

“Yeah.” Blink and you miss it, the way his eyes flicker to your lips before frisking them away to stare at the moon instead.

You stretch your legs out, swaying them back and forth as you lull your head back to stare at the vastness of the sky. The waves and your subtle breathing are the only sounds that accompany the stillness with Hyunjin.

How long had that same peace transferred from the library to the boy seated beside you?

This moment feels nice, though, it seems to only be a catalyst at making you realize how real your feelings are. Hyunjin really is starting to feel like love.

He looks at you as you’re too busy staring at the little things nature had sent to keep you two company.

“When I’m with you, it’s nice that I don’t have to talk so much.” You say suddenly.

His eyes never once leave you as you speak, and it only has his heart beating faster when he realizes that the look in your eyes is something so similar to the way he looks at you. It’s the same one he gives you when you don’t notice him looking at you. The stripped back and bare softness he shows even when he doesn’t try to.

“It’s the opposite for me.” He speaks with a smile that he doesn’t even notice has grown brighter and brighter. “When I’m with you, I tend to talk more.”

Lovestruck is the only word to describe the way his words slip out of his mouth, and no level of words can possibly describe the softness in his eyes.

“Ever since I was young, talking to someone… always felt like a burden to me. It’s never felt that way with you.”

The way you’re looking at him only encourages him to speak more—your naturally dusted cheeks, gentleness swimming in your eyes, and the wind blowing through your hair. How can you sit there and be so unaware of how beautiful you are?

“This is a little selfish of me but…” Midway through his sentence, he breathes out a little. As if to help him in saying what’s burning on the tip of his tongue. “I hope you don’t leave.”

You lean forward to hear him better.

“When you first came to the library to make a membership card, when we spent the afternoon repairing books, when I took you home when you were completely wasted… when we had ice cream together on the library bench, when we went to interview the old lady together, and when you let me meet Kkami the night we had dinner together…”

What was happiness before he knew what your smile looked like and what your voice sounds like? Hyunjin’s voice gradually softens with each memory he recounts.

“I was happy. I’m truly happy that you came to Angok.”

There's a stifling silence on the other end, as you process his words.

You never stood a chance. You were gone the moment you had set eyes on him, when you had accidentally caused a small commotion in Angok’s public library. You had signed over your heart the second he had uttered his first words to you—“you’re hello again.”

His eyes flicker from yours down to your lips, and there’s a hitch in your breath as you breathe in. It feels as though your heart could explode at any moment.

Hyunjin reaches out to brush a hand against your cheek, tentative as he draws himself closer to you. His hand is warm against the night breeze, and you find yourself leaning against him unconsciously.

“So I really hope you don’t leave.” He whispers, and you breathe at the overwhelming sincerity.

His eyes drop back down to your lips, face hovering over yours. Almost hesitant. It’s like he’s waiting for you to make a move, waiting for you to show you won’t leave. You push your lips in his, and he’s still for a second, as if unable to believe you’re kissing him at this very moment.

When he’s finally able to recover, he keeps a hand cupped on your cheek while the other travels around your waist. He holds you against him tightly, but his lips couldn’t be any more gentle as they move against yours. It’s soft, unmoving even. Your heart flutters when his lips chase after yours after you pull away for a second to catch your breath, and you’re kissing again.

Again and again and again until all you can think about is him. You had always been afraid of seeing the city in his eyes and feeling it in his lips, but you never did.

His eyes struggle to stay open when you push your foreheads together, finally breaking away from the kiss. There’s a small smile on his mouth, the one he always wears with you, and the look of fondness in his eyes.

“I’m not gonna leave.”

A shooting star spears through the dark. You both wish to stay like this forever.

thirteen.

A few days after your silent confession, Seungmin passes the Civil Licensure exam.

The boy had apparently been trying to hide his success from Hyunjin, yet was unsuccessful when he forgot he had given Hyunjin the log-in credentials to the site when he thought he’d be too nervous to view it himself.

So, you and Hyunjin plan a surprise celebration.

If Seungmin hadn’t been so caught up in trying to hide the secret you had already known about, maybe he would’ve noticed the way Hyunjin disappears from the library sometimes only to reappear, and the way you’ve been on your phone way more often than you normally are.

Getting Seungmin to the rooftop of Chan’s home was easier than you had expected. For someone who asks a lot of questions, Seungmin had simply stared at Hyunjin suspiciously when he had suddenly expressed the urge to watch the night’s constellations at Chan’s roof. Yet, feeling like he owed the boy for driving and staying with him in Seoul, he complies.

The surprise had taken a while to plan, yet everyone was willing to help after hearing the news. Everyone sits on the roof to wait, antsy when they hear Seungmin’s blabbermouth complain about accompanying Seungmin as he gets on the stairs. You all see Hyunjin first, who’s subtly pointing at his back to signal that Seungmin was coming in hot.

When he finally emerges from the steps, all of you jump in a chorus of “Surprise!”

There’s a small tarpaulin with Seungmin’s name and a congratulations tied between two makeshift posts, and the boy hides his face in embarrassment when he spots a poorly photoshopped picture of him on the side of the printed paper.

“It’s nice to celebrate this good news with everyone.” Hyunjin says, and while Seungmin’s continuing to blabber about in mock irritation, all of you know he’s grateful by the way he looks at how the rooftop is decorated in awe. Fairy lights are hung around like additional stars, and everyone has bright smiles on their faces as they all go in to wish the boy their individual congratulations.

“Congratulations on making it to Seoul!” Chan’s voice is booming as he hugs the boy. While Seungmin naturally recoils from any form of skinship, he finds himself returning most of the hugs given to him.

“Make sure you eat a lot.” Minho smiles as he looks proudly at the food he had brought, all set on the table as he prepares to cook some beef to serve as all of you eat.

“Thank you for the food!”

“Is it good?” Minho’s grilling meat on the side, continuing to prepare food as everyone around him eats satisfyingly. Sometimes, Jeongin would get up from his seat to feed Minho a piece to make sure he was eating too.

“It’s so juicy.” Changbin exclaims in pure ecstasy, and Chan can only laugh at his exaggerated response. “Your beef always tastes good, Minho.”

Jeongin’s walking around with a platter of cooked beef to serve for everyone, like he does at Minho’s restaurant. Lovely chatter echoes from the roof, laughter prominent as Jisung is on fire with his jokes. All the while, Seungmin is roasting the poor boy.

“This is the good stuff. Look at the marbling on this meat.” Minho boasts as he sets down the final platter on the table, taking a seat next to Jisung as he finally starts digging in. “Jeongin, come and eat.”

“This is so good.” Your mouth drops after you swallow the piece of beef you had grabbed. Minho just laughs fondly at the praise as he keeps eating.

As your eyes travel around everyone on the table, you can’t help but think of something your mom used to tell you — a home isn't always the house we live in. it's also in the people we choose to surround ourselves with.

Home is the gleeful playing of instruments from Jisung and Changbin, it’s baked in an oven and served fresh as brownies from Felix, it’s grateful smiles from Seungmin, it’s Chan trampled with fondness, it’s the grilled beef Minho is cooking, it’s Kkami barking in happiness as Jeongin plays with him, it’s the hand holding yours and the gentle smile on Hyunjin’s lips as he urges you to eat more.

“Oh, before I forget. I have something for you.” Said boy brings you back to reality, and he pulls out a magazine in his hand, smiling widely as he looks down at it then at you expectantly.

“What is it?” You take it from him, flipping through the pages.

“Youth of Angok. It was released yesterday.”

“No way!” You look for the article you wrote, skimming through the pages before smiling at the photo of the old lady you had taken. “Wait, hold on. Don’t tell me you read it already.”

“No, I haven’t read it yet.” Hyunjin has a fair share of tells when he lies. One of them is in the way he can’t look at you, like the way he’s avoiding your eyes right now. “It was great by the way. You write so well.”

You laugh, giggles blending with Jisung’s music. “Thank you.”

Changbin’s booming voice interrupts all the ongoing conversations, abruptly getting up as he grabs a box he had hidden to the side. “I have a surprise now that we’re all full. Sponsored by Seo’s convenience store, you’re welcome.”

He hands each one of you with sparklers, and it’s absolutely beautiful when he lights them up and pushes everyone to get up and dance to Jisung’s guitar accompaniment as the fireworks glow from everyone’s hold. Like everyone is capable of holding fire in their hands.

Music from your childhood plays in your head, the same one you never thought you’d hear again as Hyunjin tugs on your hand to pull you to where everyone is dancing, a sparkler on the hand that isn’t intertwined together.

“This is so pretty!” Felix exclaims, waving it around as the lights spring out of the stick in his hand. Jeongin’s carrying Kkami now, dancing with him in his arms.

“I’ve never done this before.” Felix looks to you with so much happiness radiating off of him, dancing around as he stares at his sparkler fireworks.

“Me neither.” You reply with the same excitement, looking to see Hyunjin already looking at you with a smile on his face. Pure, unadulterated happiness.

You thought about what happiness is.

You’ve looked it up in a dictionary once—it is a state of being pleased, fulfilled, and content in life. You think that definition is too long.

Happiness. The state of being sufficient.

Happiness. This moment right now.

Hyunjin’s arm snakes around you, pulling you closer to him as the wind flows between all of you, whisking your hair and ruffling your clothes up as happy singing falls in your ears.

“Hi.” He whispers, caressing your waist. It makes goosebumps erupt, and you know what he’s about to do as he presses a short kiss on your lips.

Sometimes, there doesn’t have to be thunderstorms. There’s no need for the sticky swarm of office workers, or the silence of dinners. You don’t have to think of the city. Sometimes, love is tucked away in a little town you least expect to find it. Sometimes, there is time to make happiness. And sometimes, family can be regained.

Your life is sufficient.

You’ll live this life.

#k-labels #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin fic #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin #skz hyunjin #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin fluff #stray kids x you #stray kids au #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #stray kids fic #hwang hyunjin long fic #stray kids hyunjin #skz fanfic #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids scenarios #skz fluff #skz imagines

[throneofsmut]

BOUND IN FLAMES - Part 7

Eris Vanserra × Archeron-Sister- Reader

Description: Feyre and her younger sister go hunting in the forest behind their family's cottage and go through life changing experiences.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death and trauma (I think that's it).

Author's Note: The wolf in this part ( you’ll know once you get to that part of fic ) is basically like the wolves from twilight for reference. Size wise at least. But still it’s a little bigger than that. He's also heavily inspired by Tairn from fourth wing. Him and reader's bond is similar to the bond Violet and Tairn have.

Word Court: 8.1k

****

Your tear stained cheek was pressed against your bent knee as you sat before the Yew Tree where the Summer Court Faerie was now buried. Fingers pulling and ripping the plush green spring grass beneath you.

Warm tears continued to wet your skin as you sat there and quietly said the prayer usually said when an Illyrian passed.

Voice cracking as you recited it, grateful that no one was around to hear the grief that was thick in your throat for a faerie you didn’t even know.

“Once soaring through skies with grace and might.

Now grounded and wounded in a fateful plight.

Though grounded they stand their soul takes flight.

Denying a flightless fate welcoming death's sweet embrace.

May the wings that once soared high carry their spirit to eternal skies.

So let us remember the fallen ones who will now become a star and be one with the night.

May they fly in the beautiful skies of immortal land of milk and honey.

Feel the wind beneath their wings.

The warm breeze a loving caress against skin.

As they lose themselves in the songs of the wind once again.”

Looking up at the stars, you searched the skies, as if you’d be able to see a whisper of the Summer Court faerie flying above you. Free from pain and suffering. Free from Amarantha. Letting out a deep sigh when you didn’t and stared at the grave at the base of the Yew Tree.

You sniffled and then let out a shuddering breath, “I am so sorry I was late. Maybe—maybe if I had gone Under the Mountain as soon as I got into Prythian, Amarantha would’ve been too focused on me to take your wings.”

Pulling out a small dagger from your pocket, cutting across your palm, letting your blood flow onto the earth. “Before I kill her or before she kills me… I’ll kill whoever she ordered to butcher you—your wings.” You swore.

Too drained to care to wrap your hand, you just sat there letting the darkness of the night comfort you. As it always did. But then you heard it: almost like a whisper, as if cloth were dragging over root and stone.

Nostrils flaring as you scented the air, without a doubt knowing who it was. The tall, thin veiled figure in dark tattered robes, came to sit next to you.

Then slowly, it turned to you, the dark veil draped over its bald head blowing in a phantom breeze. “Hello, Darkling.” Click, click went its fingers against each other, one for each word.

“Hello, old friend.”

The Suriel sniffed the air, once. Twice. “You’re bleeding.” Its fingers clicking again. You didn’t look at them, not even as its robes rustled as if it was looking for something.

Then you heard the sound of cloth tearing. A moment later it’s too long fingers gently gripped your hand—carefully—to not touch the cut on your palm. Then it wrapped the piece of their torn robe around your hand. Squeezing your fingers before putting your now bandaged hand back in your lap. “She knows you’re in Prythian. She’s hunting you.”

“I know.” You said quietly.

“The faeries she sends into these lands are hunting you, faeries like the naga,” It said, its voice was at once one and many, old and young, beautiful and grotesque. “Her ilk will continue to invade these lands on her orders. To find you.”

You felt the Suriel’s eyes on you as you looked down at your wrapped hand. Then at the Suriel. They had torn the cleanest part of their robe to bandage you. “Thank you,” you gave them a small smile, it was all you could muster at the moment and they nodded their head in understanding.

“You know you’re being hunted, so why are you still out here all alone.” Not a question, but a mere fact.

As if on cue the grass brush a couple yards in front of you rustled, the Suriel and you looked up and you smiled knowing who was there. Without looking away from the blue glowing eyes that were now set on you. “I’m not alone.”

The Suriel only chuckled, “No, you are not.”

Moment of silence passed before you spoke again, “You know if I knew you were coming I would’ve brought you a new cloak,” you glanced at the old tattered cloak they wore.

“Well, I didn’t have time to schedule an appointment, my lady.” They said sarcastically, earning a chuckle from you.

“Fair enough. Meet me here tomorrow night and I’ll bring you a new cloak.”

Their dark tattered robes rustled as they stood and placed a hand on your shoulder, “Thank you,” It’s fingers clicking in time with the words it spoke. Then they looked toward the grass brush again where those glowing blue eyes still watched you, “Get her back to the manor. It’s not safe out here.” They said to the owner of those blue glowing eyes, but all the Suriel got back was a low growl in response.

You don’t know how much time passed after the Suriel left, didn’t care, all that mattered were those blue eyes that stared back at you. Slowly you stood up from your spot in the grass and walked towards the grass brush. The same time you stood up, it did too, but it didn’t make a move. It was unnaturally still and silent. Until you spoke his name, “Raihn.” So quiet, it was barely a whisper but you know he heard you by the way his ears twitched.

Then it was walking out to meet you, slowly. Menacingly.

“Raihn. . . It’s me. It’s me, Y/n” you whispered, you didn’t know who could be out here. Listening. Watching. He stalked closer, the night shielding most of him, all you could see were his eyes. Until he was right in front of you. Illuminated by the moonlight you could finally see him. He was bigger than you remembered, then again that was 10 years ago. He had always been huge but now he was massive. His fur was pure white and he had to be at least 10 feet in length and over 6 feet tall from paw to shoulders.

“Raihn, it’s me. Please. Please, you have to remember me.” Your eyes filled with tears as you pleaded. He had to remember you, because you could never forget him.

Your mother told you that her mother used to tell her stories about a rare species of wolves that hailed from the north. From deep in the mountains of the Night Court. They only ever bonded with the Lords and Princes of Illyria, if they were loyal, cunning, brave and possessed the raw killing power.

The wolves used to fight beside them in battle and the more killing power the Illyrian possessed then the stronger the bond between them was. If the bond was strong enough they could channel power into each other and share it, but if one of them was killed in battle the other would fall too even if they were physically unharmed.

It had been centuries since the last wolf had bonded with an Illyrian. Until you. Since you could remember, Raihn had always been by your side until you had to disappear.

Your lips quivered as you spoke, voice cracking, “Raihn.” You slowly stuck your hand out so he could scent you. His snout twitched, once. Then twice. He looked back at you—assessing—then growled, so low, you felt the ground beneath you shake.

The massive wolf’s lips curled back as he bared his teeth inches away from your face. You know he’s confused because he can still scent your true scent beneath the blood spell your mother used on you. Which also changed your physical appearance. If only you could touch him—restoring the bond—then you could talk to him and he could talk to you.

You let out a sharp breath, knowing what you had to do. You tried to brace yourself for the pain you knew you were about to feel, it would only allow him to see you—the real you if only for a couple seconds. But still he would see you and then he’d remember who you are to him.

“Nochd.”

As soon as you uttered the word which meant reveal in the old language, your entire body felt as if it was being ripped apart yet it put back together. Your veins felt as if they were on fire by the coldest flames. Gasping for breath felt like you were drowning in scorching hot water, your lungs expanding and constricting. And your head felt like it was going to explode.

Then nothing.

It was nearly dawn when you felt something nudging your face and hand. You could barely hear the whimpers over the blood roaring through your ears. Your entire body felt heavy and sore as you lifted your hand and felt fur: soft and warm.

Raihn.

His head was still nudging your face. Turning to look at him, really look at him. He has deep scarred scratches on the right side of his face but he wasn’t blinded. And most of his right ear was gone, “You’re as beautiful as the day I last saw you.” He flinched hearing your voice, hoarse from the pain inflicted from the blood spell.

You’re hurt. Stop talking, he orders. His voice deep and gruff.

Letting out a hiss as you sit up. “Yeah, and whose fault is that?”

He growled in response. Don’t do that ever again. You almost died.

“Well, it’s your fault you didn’t recognize me. I had to show you it was me.” You tried to reason.

So it's my fault that you smell like you but don't look like you. How was I supposed to know? He argued.

You shrugged, “At least you know now.”

Yes, but you don't know how I felt all these years, not knowing if you would come back or if you were safe!

“I miss you too.” You chuckled softly.

Get on. He ordered.

You scoffed, “I can walk,” but made no move to stand.

I didn't ask. Now get on.

Raihn moved so he was laying next to you as close as he could without squishing you. All you had to do was hold onto the scruff of his neck and roll over to get on his back. You took in a deep breath and let it out once you were on his back. Cursing as he stood up, the movement jostling your sore body.

Don't be rude, he says. Looking over his shoulder at me before huffing. You're bleeding. Stop it.

It’s your turn to huff, “Don’t be rude,” you sit up a bit, wiping the blood coming from your nose. “Let’s just go back to the manor.”

****

The ride back to the Spring Court Manor was quiet but not uncomfortable. The both of you content with just being in each other’s presence.

None of the sentries stationed around the Manor said anything to you about the dry blood now stained underneath your nose. Or the massive wolf who was carrying your limp body inside. They only moved out of the way, letting you both pass.

As Raihn stalked into the alabaster manor and up the stairs to your room the servants let out shocked gasps. Some stood frozen in shock and when they didn’t move he growled, baring his teeth in warning. Swatting his foreleg lightly, “Hey, be nice.”

They're the ones that need to be nice. It's not polite to stare. He reasoned as he growled at another servant.

Once you finally got to your room he layed back down so you could get off and you slowly trudged to the ensuite bathroom. Quickly washing up and putting on a fresh night gown to sleep in. You didn’t bother looking in the mirror, already knowing your face was puffy from crying.

Walking back into the bedroom, going straight to the closet to pull out pillows and comforters. You laid them on the floor before the foot of the bed for Raihn to sleep on.

Making your way back to your bed and crawling under the covers, the wolf took that as his cue to lay down too. You fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. The last thing you heard was Raihn’s voice, I missed you too.

No nightmares plagued you that night as you got the best sleep you had in over 10 years.

****

You awoke a little before noon to the sound of Raihn’s growl and Lucien’s voice.

“Mother’s tits!” Lucien whisper-yelled, his hands held up like he was trying to show Raihn he meant no harm.

Raihn only lowered his head and growled even louder, baring his teeth at the red haired male. Lucien’s throating bobbing as he remained still. “Relax, fox boy.”

Lucien didn’t look at you as he asked, “Does he bite?”

“Not me.” He didn’t have to look at you to know you were smirking.

“Y/n, please!”

You huffed, “Fine. Raihn stop scaring him.”

The large wolf turned his head slowly to face you, Is he a friend?

“Uh. . . no, not really.” You replied, answering his question.

Lucien's eyes flickered between Raihn and you, “No, what?”

“He asked if you were a friend.”

“And you said no!”

You shrugged, “You never asked me.”

Raihn stalked closer and Lucien began apologizing, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

Getting up from the bed to stand between them, hissing when you moved too fast. Raihn snapped his head at you, Get back in bed, he ordered.

Patting his side, “Stop fussing, I’m fine,” pushing him further back into the room to give Lucien some space. “What are you doing in here anyway, Lucien?”

“Tamlin wants to take Feyre on a ride, to show her something.”

“And,” you arched a brow at him, even though he was still looking at the wolf behind you.

He finally looked at you, his mouth opening and then closing, before opening again, “And… I want to take you.”

“All right.”

“All right?”

“Yeah, just let me change.” You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else as you pushed him out the door and got ready. Raihn huffing behind you.

****

By the time Raihn and you got to the front doors, Tamlin, Lucien and Feyre were already saddled on their horses.

Again no one said anything, Tamlin and Feyre were just gaping in shock and Lucien was just staring as Raihn lowered himself so you could get on his back. Once you were seated he began walking, Lucien’s horse keeping pace beside you.

Then Tamlin came up on your other side, “Is that a wolf?”

“Are we in the Spring Court?” You asked him, sarcasm dripping off of every word.

“Yes.” He answered.

“Then yes, Tamlin. This is a wolf.” Lucien snorted beside you as you patted Raihn’s neck. Tamlin glared at him and he pretended to cough.

“Is he your pet?” Raihn’s responding growl made the High Lord stiffen.

“No,” you laughed. “No, he’s not. Raihn and I are Ceangailte."

Tamlin’s face paled as he looked at Lucien but Lucien was looking at you. Then he whispered, “You’re bonded to each other?”

“Yes, Lucien, we are.”

Raihn let out a pleased noise and you smiled softly.

“What’d he say?” Lucien asked.

“I am his and he is mine, from now until the darkness claims us.”

****

When you all finally arrived at the place Tamlin wanted to show Feyre, it was an hour or two past noon. The light still thick and golden. It was a glen, a beautiful glen.

Lucien had already sat down on the blanket they brought and Tamlin had gone to where Feyre was a couple feet ahead.

“Y/n,” he patted the space on the blanket next him, “sit.”

You looked at him and then back at the trail beyond, “Uh, I think I’m gonna go for a walk. . . Thank you though.”

“I’ll go with you.” The male was already on his feet and next to you before you could say it wasn’t necessary. “Lead the way.”

“Raihn, stay.” He huffed in annoyance at your order but stayed put.

You and Lucien walked the trail for a bit before veering off in the opposite direction of the pool of starlight. You couldn’t look at it without being homesick for a home you’d never been to. The walk was quiet, the both of you content in just listening to the birds around you singing along with the trees and the sounds of their leaves rustling. But, Lucien broke the silence.

“Are you alright after last night?”

You looked at him, brows furrowed before shaking your head no. “Are you?”

He sighed, “No.”

You knew you shouldn’t ask but curiosity killed the cat and you were the cat. “Did she—did Amaratha do that to you?” You asked softly, gesturing to his scarred eye.

He visibly tensed, jaw clenched as he gave you a tight nod.

“I’m sorry.” And you meant it too. Making a silent promise to scar her face just like she’d scarred his.

He stopped walking and you turned to look at him. Lucien searched your face for any insincerity and when he found none he merely thanked you. Then continued to walk.

You both walked until you came across a beautiful bluish green colored lake with a dock. Lucien bent down to roll up his pants and take off his boots. “What are you doing?” You asked him.

“We are going to dip our toes in the water, sweetheart,” his lips settling into a playful smirk.

Lucien sat beside you on dock, his hands splayed behind him as the both of you kicked your feet gently through the water. You were so lost in your own thoughts while staring at the rippling water that you didn’t hear him calling to you.

“Y/n!” He whisper-yelled.

“What?”

His eyes were wide and the corners of his mouth were upturned as he gestured in front of you, across the narrow lake. Where dozens upon dozens of different animals were staring at you, but standing proud, front and center was the Ruler of the Forest.

But you knew the huge white stag with great antlers as the Lord of the North.

He stretched out one of his forelegs and bent the other, before bowing his head. His dark eyes never left yours as you bowed your head to him in return. Then he and the other animals followed and it was as if they were never there.

Lucien cleared his throat, getting your attention, “Listen, I don’t know who or what you are but. . . I know you’re different.” If he saw you tense he didn’t mention it. “You don’t have to tell me. Yet, because you’re different I’m gonna tell you something.” You finally looked at him and nodded for him to continue.

He let out a deep sigh before he began to speak again, “I’ve endured things that make times like last night. . . difficult. Not just the scar and the eye—though last night brought back memories of that, too.” You turned so you could face him better and he met your gaze. “I am the youngest son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court." You straightened. "The youngest of seven brothers. The Autumn Court is. . . cutthroat. Beautiful, but my brothers see each other only as competition, since the strongest of them will inherit the title, not the eldest. It is the same throughout Prythian, at every court.”

Which was the reason your mother used a blood spell on you because you were already showing the physical markers of a High Lord's heir. And you were female so that made it even more rare.

“I never cared about it, never expected to be crowned High Lord, so I spent my youth doing everything a High Lord's son probably shouldn't: wandering the courts, making friends with the sons of other High Lords and being with females who were a far cry from the nobility of the Autumn Court." He paused for a moment, and you could almost feel the sorrow before he said, "I fell in love with a faerie whom my father considered to be grossly inappropriate for someone of his bloodline. I told him I didn't care that she wasn't one of the High Fae, that I was certain the mating bond would snap into place soon and that I was going to marry her and leave his court to my scheming brothers." He paused again. His jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to will away the tears pooling in his eyes, to no avail. "My father had her put down. Executed, in front of me, as two of my eldest brothers held me and made me watch."

Your own eyes had started to fill with tears and Lucien gave you a sad smile when the first one fell down your cheek.

“So. . . I left. Cursed my father, abandoned my title and the Autumn Court, and walked out. And without my title protecting me, my brothers thought to eliminate one more contender to the High Lord's crown. Three of them came out to kill me; one came back."

"You. . . killed them?"

"I killed one," He said. "Tamlin killed the other, as they had crossed into his territory, he was High Lord and could do what he wanted with trespassers threatening the peace of his lands." A cold, brutal, honest statement. "He claimed me as his own—named me emissary, since I'd already made many friends across the courts and had always been good at talking to people, while he. . . can find it difficult. I’ve been here ever since."

"As emissary," you began, "have you ever had dealings with your father? Or your brothers?"

"Yes. My father has never apologized, and my brothers are too frightened of Tamlin to risk harming me. But I have never forgotten what they did to her, or what my brothers tried to do to me."

It didn't quite excuse everything Lucien had said and done to you and Feyre, but. . . you understood now. You could understand the walls and barriers he had no doubt constructed around himself. Your chest was too tight, to say anything to him. You knew it wouldn’t comfort him, so you did the only thing you could think of and hugged him. A couple seconds went by and you realized he might not hug you back but when you made to pull away, he gripped your tunic so tightly before he began sobbing into you.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that. You weren’t going to pull away until he did, he needed this. Needed to go through every emotion he’s kept bottled up. And you just rubbed his back and smoothed his long red hair back as he did.

The sun was near setting when Lucien finally pulled away from you and wiped his tear stained cheeks with the sleeve of his tunic. He gave you a sad smile, voice still tight from crying, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” your voice a gentle murmur.

“Gods, I haven’t cried like that in ages.” He said, letting out a chuckle.

“You have too every now and again, it’s good for the soul.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Raihn’s deep, gruff voice sounded in your head, Come back, we're leaving.

All right.

You stood up, putting your boots back on, “Let’s go, Raihn said we’re heading back.”

“All right.” Lucien sniffled before getting to his feet and putting his own boots back on.

****

Feyre seemed tired but surprisingly content from the few hours of swimming and eating and lounging in the glen, she eyed Lucien as you all rode back to the manor that afternoon. You were crossing a broad meadow of new spring grass when he caught her glancing at him for the tenth time, and you braced yourself as he fell back from Tamlin’s side.

The metal eye narrowed on her while the other remained wary, unimpressed. “Yes?”

That was enough to persuade you not to say anything about his past. You would hate pity, too. And he didn’t know you—not well enough to warrant anything but resentment if you brought it up, even if it weighed on you to know it, to grieve for him.

She waited until Tamlin was far enough ahead that even his High Fae hearing might not pick up on her words but you did. “I never got to thank you for your advice with the Suriel.”

Lucien tensed. “Oh?”

You looked at Tamlin beside you, the horse utterly unbothered by his mighty rider. “If you still want me dead,” she said, “you might have to try a bit harder.”

Lucien loosed a breath. “That’s not what I intended, I wouldn’t shed any tears,” he amended. I knew it was true and she probably did too. “But what happened to you—”

“I was joking,” Feyre chuckled.

“You can’t possibly forgive me that easily for sending you into danger.”

“No. And part of me would like nothing more than to wallop you for your lack of warning about the Suriel. But I understand: I’m a human who killed your friend, who now lives in your house, and you have to deal with me. I understand,” She repeated.

He was quiet for long enough that you thought he wouldn’t reply. Just as you were about to drop back, he spoke. “Tam told me that your first shot was to save the Suriel’s life. Not your own.”

“It seemed like the right thing to do.”

“I know far too many High Fae and lesser faeries who wouldn’t have seen it that way—or bothered.” You heard him reach for something at his side and tossed it to her. She had to fight to stay in the saddle as she fumbled for it—a jeweled hunting knife.

“I heard you scream, and I hesitated. Not long, but I hesitated before I came running. Even though Tam got there in time, I still broke my word in those seconds I waited.” He jerked his chin at the knife. “It’s yours. Don’t bury it in my back, please.”

You turned this time to look at him and he gave you a genuine smile and a nod of his head.

Your gaze flickered between the both of them, Feyre now inspecting the knife and him giving you a friendly smile—a silent question. So you smiled back and nodded your head in return, friends then.

****

You gave Raihn a reassuring smile, “I’ll be careful, I promise,” while you finished securing your ash daggers to your body.

I’ll go with you.

“No.”

You’ll be safer with me by your side, he argued.

You sighed, “I’m not saying you’re wrong but, I can’t exactly sneak out with a huge wolf next to me, can I?” His annoyed huff was answer enough as he laid down on the comforters and pillows you had set on the floor for him. Petting the soft fur atop his head, “Sleep, I’ll be back before you know it.”

You know I won’t sleep until you come back.

****

You made your way through the quiet empty halls of the manor, down the staircase and to the door leading towards the garden doors. The sentries were changing shifts and you knew Lucien was on patrol tonight so you took the opportunity, running towards the north-eastern part of the woods. The new cloak you promised the Suriel in hand as you made your way to meet them near the yew tree.

Their fingers clicked twice, “You came,” as they spoke .

“When have I not?” you asked, while offering them the cloak. Looking around as the leaves on the surrounding trees and bushes rustled. Ears straining to hear if something—someone was there.

The Suriel grabbed the cloak and cradled it to their chest, “Thank you, princess—“

“You don’t have to thank me and I’m not a princess. Not anymore.”

They bent down on a knee, “For the kindness you have always shown me,” bowing his head, “you will always be a princess to me.”

Placing a hand on their bony shoulder, “Thank you, old friend.” You heard leaves rustling again, nostrils flaring scenting the air, “Go, someone’s here.”

“Be safe. I do not know when I will see you again but, I have to tell you. You have to know.”

“Know what?” Your brows furrowed as you glanced around trying to see if someone was hiding the shadow covered trees.

“Your mate,” Those two words made you snap your gaze back to the Suriel. “Like you, has fire in their blood. You will find each other on Calanmai. You have always been meant to burn together.”

You felt paralyzed, “What,” you felt your heart pounding. “Who. . . I have a mate?” you said those last four words so quietly you didn’t think the Suriel heard you until they spoke again.

They chuckled, “Yes, darkling, you have a mate. The both of you bound in flames. Bound to each other. He is heir to Autumn and you are heir to Spring. Be safe, Princess, you are of age now and will be affected by Fire Night’s magic.” The Suriel bowed again, “Till we meet again, Princess,” and walked into the dark woods.

You don’t know how long you stood there in shock that you had a mate and in fear that Amarantha would find out and kill him.

You stuck to the shadows as always, making your way back to the manor, mind reeling with possibilities from the information the Suriel gave you before they left. Practically in a trance when Lucien stopped you, still sitting atop his beautiful mare, “Why are you out here so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep. So I came out for a walk.”

He smirked knowingly, “Want to try that again, Princess?”

“Is there a curfew I don’t know about? Am I not allowed to come and go when I want.” Fuck. He heard the Suriel address you as Princess. He was who you heard and scented. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Did he know his brother is your mate? Is he your mate? Fuck.

Lucien chuckled as he swung a powerful leg over his horse, dismounting the beautiful mare and stalking towards you, leaning down so you were face to face, “Who—what are you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrugged, keeping your face an unreadable mask.

He let out a laugh, which sounded more bitter than amused, “So I open up to you, essentially baring my heart and soul to you and you won’t even tell me your real name!”

You didn’t try to cover the hurt that flashed across your face, as you yelled, “I did tell you my name! Y/n is my name, I haven’t lied about that!”

“But you are lying!”

“No! I just. . . I just haven’t told you everything.”

“Why?” His narrowed eyes—one russet and one metal—searched your face.

Before you could give him an answer, Raihn’s powerful body was in between you as he gave Lucien a warning. A low growl to back off.

Lucien immediately stepped back, with his hands up showing Raihn he was unarmed. Your wolf growled once more, his lip curled back in a snarl. Did he harm you?

“No,” you mumbled.

No, what ? Raihn asked tightly.

“No, he didn’t hurt me.”

Tell him if he does, I will take his remaining eye and eviscerate him where he stands.

You furrowed your brows and couldn’t stop the burst of laughter from leaving your lips as you howled in laughter, “That’s a little dramatic but, no. I’m not telling him that.”

Tell him or I will take his remaining eye.

Your mouth opened but Lucien’s voice cut you off, “Tell me what?”

You looked at Lucien, then at Raihn, “I’m not telling him.”

Tell. Him. Now. The massive wolf order.

“Fine,” you huffed, rolling your eyes, “Raihn said that if you hurt me he will take your remaining eye and eviscerate you where you stand.” Turning to look at Raihn again, even though he was still focused on Lucien, “Happy?”

Not even close.

Lucien’s face turned a sickly pale, no doubt imagining the painful painting Raihn, painted for him. Without another word he turned and mounted his horse. Before he could set her into a walk you a poke, “I wish I could tell you but I can’t. I just can’t, I’m sorry.”

He only nodded his head once and then left.

****

Weeks passed, the days melting together.

The first couple weeks everyone was afraid of Raihn, especially Alis, since she’d just come into your room and he snapped at her. At least he’d been sorry but since then she was wary of him. Feyre got used to him—sort of, Tamlin and Lucien did too. The other servants just tried to avoid him.

Lucien never talked about the night you had argued and Tamlin never said anything about it either. So he must not have told him that he found you outside the manor in the middle of the night. Instead Lucien just pretended it had never happened, which somehow bothered you more.

Feyre and Tamlin had grown closer over time. Well that’s what she told you at least; gentle, soft kisses, and longing touches. He’d even gifted her art supplies and given her a space to paint. The smile she’d given you when she told you was pure happiness and you wanted her to stay like that—happy. All she wanted before was time and tools to paint and now she had them so, paint she did. She never wanted anyone to see them but she would let you and ask for your opinion on certain colors. Sometimes she dared to paint the High Lord, who rode at her side when they wandered his grounds on lazy days—the High Lord, whom she was happy to talk to or spend hours in comfortable silence with. While you spent your days with Lucien or the other sentries; patrolling and training.

Just like today, Lucien and you were getting ready to change shifts and were heading back towards the manor. You cleared the little wood, a spread of hills and knolls laid out ahead. In the distance, there were masked faeries atop many of them, building what seemed to be unlit fires. You halted, they were setting up for Fire Night.

He halted beside you, “They’re setting up bonfires—for Calanmai—Fire Night. It’s in two days,” he explained.

Fire Night. Your brows furrowed and you shook your head.

“It’s just a spring ceremony. We light bonfires, and the magic that we create helps regenerate the land for the year ahead.”

You clenched and unclenched your hands, “I know what it is.”

He rubbed his neck, “Oh. . . It’s just the way you said it, I thought you didn’t know what it was.”

“No, I just didn’t know it was in two days.” You shook your head again and gave Raihn the silent command to start walking again. Lucien did the same with his horse.

“You might see more faeries around than usual—faeries from this court, and from other territories, who are free to wander across the borders that night.”

You nodded your head before letting out a sharp breath, “I thought Amarantha had scared most of them away or trapped them Under the Mountain,” Glancing back at the unlit bonfires hoping that they wouldn’t be there. That maybe you were seeing things but they were still there.

“She has—but there will be a number of them. Just. . . stay away from them all. You’ll be safe in the house, but if you run into one before we light the fires at sundown in two days, ignore them.”

“I'm not staying in the house.”

It was his turn to halt this time, “Yes. You are.”

“No. I’m not.” You didn’t give him the chance to argue before telling Raihn mind to mind to get you into the house. Then to go wait in your room while you hid behind a massive pot in the garden.

You saw the moment Tamlin went rigid—it was quiet with that horrible stillness that usually meant one of Amarantha’s ilk was around. Tamlin bared his teeth at. . . Feyre. Fuck. “Stay hidden, and no matter what you overhear, don’t come out,” He ordered her.

Then he was gone.

She looked to either side of the gravel path, like some gawking idiot. You hoped she wouldn’t move because if she did she would fuck everything up. She had just ducked behind a hedge when you heard Tamlin and Lucien approaching. You silently swore and froze. Then Tamlin’s snarl rippled through the air on the other side of the hedge she was hiding behind.

“I know what day it is,” Tamlin said—but not to Lucien. To the Attor. Him and his brothers still plagued your dreams.

“Your continued behavior is garnering a lot of interest at court,” the Attor said, deep and sibilant. You shivered, despite the warmth of the day. “She has begun wondering—wondering why you haven’t given up yet. And why four Naga wound up dead not too long ago.”

“Tamlin’s not like the other fools,” Lucien snapped, his shoulders pushed back to raise himself to his full height, more warrior-like than you’d yet seen him.“If she expected bowed heads, then she’s more of an idiot than I thought.”

The Attor hissed, and your blood went cold at the noise. “Speak you so ill of she who holds your fate in her hands? With one word, she could destroy this pathetic estate. She wasn’t pleased when she heard of you dispatching your warriors.” The Attor now seemed turned toward Tamlin. “But, as nothing has come of it, she has chosen to ignore it.”

There was a deep-throated growl from the High Lord, but his words were calm as he said, “Tell her I’m getting sick of cleaning up the trash she dumps on my borders.”

The Attor chuckled, the sound like sand shifting. “She sets them loose as gifts—for you—and reminders of what will happen if she catches you trying to break the terms of—”

“He’s not,” Lucien snarled. “Now, get out. We have enough of your ilk swarming on the borders we don’t need you defiling our home, too. For that matter, stay the hell out of the cave. It’s not some common road for filth like you to travel through as they please.”

Tamlin loosed a growl of agreement.

The Attor laughed again, such a horrible, vicious sound. “Though you have a heart of stone, Tamlin,” it said, and Tamlin went rigid, “you certainly keep a host of fear inside it.” The Attor’s voice sank into a croon. “Don’t worry, High Lord.” It spat the title like a joke. “All will be right as rain soon enough.”

“Burn in Hell,” Lucien replied for Tamlin, and he laughed again before a flap of leathery wings boomed, a foul wind bit your face, and everything went silent.

They breathed deeply after another moment. You closed your eyes, needing a steadying breath as well but Feyre yelped. You stood without hesitating, ash daggers in hand.

“It’s gone,” Tamlin said, releasing her. It was all you could do not to sag against the hedges.

“What did you hear?” Lucien demanded—from the both of us, coming around the corner and crossing his arms. Shifting your gaze to Tamlin’s face, but found it to be so white with anger—anger at that thing—that you had to look again at Lucien.

“Nothing—I. . . well, nothing I understood,” Feyre said, and meant it.

You looked back at Tamlin as you said one word, “Everything.”

“If the Attor saw them—” Lucien said, glancing around.

“It didn’t,” Tamlin said.

“Are you certain it—”

“It didn’t,” Tamlin growled over his shoulder, then looked at Feyre and you, his face still pale with fury, lips tight. “I’ll see you both at dinner.”

Understanding a dismissal, and craving the locked door of your bedroom, you trudged back to the house, contemplating telling Feyre who Amarantha was and why she was able to make Tamlin and Lucien so nervous and to command that thing as her messenger. But you couldn’t and you hated yourself for it.

****

After a tense dinner during which Tamlin hardly spoke to Lucien, Feyre or you, you walked out onto the balcony that was attached to your room and climbed onto the roof. And slept under the stars that night.

You went outside the following day but didn’t venture into the woods. Raihn and you were merely sprawled underneath an Oak Tree that was near the house’s private garden. Alis brought breakfast and lunch out to you knowing you wouldn’t have eaten otherwise. Too lost in the thought of tomorrow being Fire Night, the thought of meeting your mate and what would or could happen.

She had tried asking me what was wrong but you couldn’t tell her. How could you when your mates life was at risk just because he was mated to you. You knew Alis wouldn’t tell anyone if you asked her not too yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. The instinct to protect your mate at all costs was overriding everything.

****

The day of Fire Night—Calanmai dawned, and you didn’t see Tamlin or Lucien all day. As the afternoon shifted into dusk, you found yourself sliding your blue cloak so dark it was nearly black over your shoulders as you headed towards the doors of your balcony, Raihn following close behind, “Stay here. No one can see you.”

He growled.

You sighed, making your way towards him.

Once you were face to face with him, you cradled his head in your hands, pressing your forehead to his, “Please. You have to stay here. They’re not only hunting me and. . . and if something were to happen to you. I—I wouldn’t survive it. And it wouldn’t be because of the bond. I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt.”

And if you get hurt. . . He let out a distressed whine at the thought.

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

You heard him inhale, scenting you as if you wouldn’t be coming back. Without another word you walked out onto the balcony, giving Raihh a smile reserved only for him, then jumped off.

The sound of drums issued.

The drumbeats came from far away—beyond the garden, past the game park, into the forest that lay beyond. They were deep, probing. A single beat, echoed by two responding calls. Summoning.

You stood, staring out over the property as the sky became awash in hues of orange and red. Noting that your senses already felt. . . different.

In the distance, upon the sloping hills that led into the woods, a few fires flickered, plumes of dark smoke marring the ruby sky—the unlit bonfires you’d spotted two days ago. you needed to find your mate, you reminded yourself.

The drums turned faster—louder. Though you’d grown accustomed to the smell of magic after not being around it since you were a child, your nose prickled with the rising tang of metal, stronger than you’d yet sensed it. You took a step forward, behind you, your long shadow seemed to pulse to the beat of the drums.

Even the garden, usually buzzing with the orchestra of its denizens, had quieted to hear the drums. There was a string—a string tied to your gut that pulled you toward those hills, commanding you to go, to hear—to feel the drums. . .

Smoke and magic hung thick in the air. There were hundreds of High Fae milling about, you could identify which court they came from but some you couldn’t.

You stuck to the shadows as best you could as you made your way through the crowd, your human features caused by the blood spell your mother put on you, hidden in the shadows of your hood. You prayed that the smoke and countless scents of various High Fae and faeries were enough to cover your human smell, but you checked to ensure that your ash daggers were still at your sides anyway as you moved deeper into the celebration.

Though a cluster of drummers played on one side of the fire, the faeries flocked to a trench between two nearby hills. You followed them, savoring the pulsing beat of the drums as it resonated through the earth and into the soles of your feet. No one looked twice in your direction.

You almost slid down the steep bank as you entered the hollow. At one end, a cave mouth opened into a soft hillside. Its exterior had been adorned with flowers and branches and leaves, and you could make out the beginnings of a pelt-covered floor just past the cave mouth. What lay inside was hidden from view as the chamber veered away from the entrance, but firelight danced upon the walls.

Whatever was occurring inside the cave—or whatever was about to happen—was the focus of the shadowy faeries as they lined either side of a long path leading to it. The path wended between the trenches among the hills, and the High Fae swayed in place, moving to the rhythm of the drumming, whose beats sounded in your stomach.

You watched them sway, then shifted on then shifted on your feet. The string— the string you felt tugged once. Twice. You scanned the fire lit area, trying to peer through the veil of night and smoke. You know he’s here. Your mate. But you hadn’t found him. . . Not yet.

None of the masked faeries paid you any heed. They remained along the path, more and more of them coming each minute. The Great Rite was going to begin soon then.

You made your way back up the hillside and stood along the edge of a bonfire near the trees, watching the faeries. You were about to make your way towards the shadow covered woods, your senses were beginning to feel more fae—more animalistic than fae, when someone grasped your arm and whirled you around.

Lucien.

He snarled in your face, “What are you doing out here? Twisting out of his hold, he huffed, “I told you to stay in the house.”

“And I told you no.”

He sighed deeply, “Y/n, you can’t just do whatever—" he turned to look at what you were staring at and when he didn’t see it, he looked back at you. “—What the fuck are you looking at?”

Grabbing his face, turning his head, “Feyre.” There she was, your sister with a high fae whose black hair gleamed like a raven’s feathers. He had blue eyes that were so deep they were violet. You’d know those eyes anywhere. He was the High Lord of Night.

Rhysand.

Lucien cursed violently, then went to Feyre. You were stuck in your spot looking where Rhysand once stood. He was alive. . . He was here. You had to find him. You needed to talk to him.

You scanned the crowd frantically trying to find him, the darkness beyond the crowd beckoned you, called to you and you felt eyes watching you. But, everytime you tried to follow it, the string that had been tugging all night pulled you away, farther and farther.

Without realizing it you’d rejoined the crowd and Lucien appeared next to you. The drum beats picked up, making the flames of the bonfires flicker with each pulse. He was standing so close to you, you could feel the radiating heat of his body and scent his arousal but, not just his, the other faeries too.

His eyes settled on your lips and tracked the way your tongue swept over them as you licked them. He took a step forward, reaching to cup your face when suddenly a tall high fae male had a dagger pressed against your tanned throat.

“Thank you for finding her for me, brother.” The male with the same red hair as Lucien said, but instead of russet eyes his were amber.

Standing before you was the most beautiful male you’d ever seen and the string in your chest seemed to glow and warm in response to his presence.

Brother. His brother. Your mate, he found you.

Lucien snarled at him, “Eris, if you hurt her—“ The tip of his dagger pushing into the soft pale skin of his brother’s throat.

“He won’t,” you cut him off. “He won’t hurt me. Will you, Eris?”

His lips were set in a feral grin that would make anyone else run but, you weren’t just anyone. “Never, little flame,” he promised.

For other parts: Bound In Flames Series Masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11

Taglist: @historygeekqueen @cat-or-kitten @yeeyeebabe @khaleesihavilliard @impossibelle @sleepylunarwolf @cutie232 @meepmeep-318 @belledawnidk @fandomrejects @wasntpriscilla @brandywineeeee @consultinghuntresshasthetardis

*If you would like to be added to the taglist for this story or to my general taglist, please either reply to this post or send me a message.

#acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra x reader #eris #eris acotar #eris fanfic #eris smut #eris x reader #bound in flames #eris vanserra x you #eris x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris x y/n

[quimichi]

hello!! new anon here, (may i please be 🌱 anon?)

I was hoping to get a fic on something like "cuddling with genshin girls" idrc how old they are, just pure fluff though!!! also, may it be with Creator!y/n? If so thank you!!

[always remember that this shouldn't ever start to feel like a chore! (its meant to be enjoyable!)]

-

☆

🌱

❛ CUDDLING SOME GENSHIN GIRLS ༉‧₊˚

Genshin girls x Creator!Reader

Shenhe, Xinyan, Rosaria, Mona & Lynette

A/n: You didn't specifically say who you want, so I used a random character generator on this one! Maybe I'll do more of these in the future!

Shenhe - Mind be purged, world be saved

You feel her body leaning into yours, her breathing slowly slowing down. Her heart still thunders against her chest, but her mind isn't racing anymore. She is relaxed, and completely in the moment.

For the first time in a long time, she is not worrying about the future or her past. She is safe in your arms, and happy as she can be.Your hands running through her snow white hair brings a comforting sense to Shenhe. Her body relaxes even more into you, her head resting against your chest, letting out a relieved sigh.

Her breathing grows even more quiet than before, her eyes closing in content. She has not been this comfortable in a very, very long time. "Enjyoing yourself?" Shenhe lets out a soft and breathy 'yes' sound as she answers you, her head nuzzling deeper into your chest in response. "Mhm," she answers quietly. Her words are little more than a whisper, her voice muffled from where her face is pressed against you. Shenhe moves to rest her head on your shoulder, her hair gently sifting through your fingers.

She does not speak. She simply exists in this moment with you. And in this moment, his mind is quiet and content.

This is where she feels most home.

Xinyan - If there's fire in your soul, you gotta rock 'n' roll.

Your body against her is warm and tender, like a nest of blankets. She buries his head into you, wanting your comfort. Her whole body feels lighter now and she is eager to spend every moment wrapped around you.

She doesn't care to move— not so long as you remain with her. You are her home, her only desire in any moment, and he will take hold of you in her embrace no matter how long it lasts. She is safe here. She is home. You are her world.

Her words are quiet, she's rambling about her day, about how she had to fight tons and tons of cyro slimes today. You can hear the excitement in her voice, the proudness as she talks and talks and talks. You may not be able to make out every word, but you can sense her joy in telling you. She just wants you to be proud of her. She wants you to know how much her days would be nothing without you. Saying if you'd be there, all those slimes would've been gone in a mere second. So, no matter what, she tries her best.

She leans her head against yours, and nuzzles against your neck. Her fingers run through your hair in affection.

Besides music, you are her favorite topic.

Rosari - Do not fear your past, and do not be scared to come to grips with it

Rosaria can hardly remember what life was like before you. Before she’d known your touch. Your warm embrace, the comfort of your presence. When she holds you close, all the troubles of the world vanish for a single, precious moment. The memory of you lingers in the air around her like a perfume. Your breath on her neck, your fingers in her hair. Your heartbeat against her chest.

She breathes your name; a sound like a prayer, a plea. “My love.”

"Yes" you answer, eyes closed as you both hold each other. You're enjoying it just as much. "Stay with me." There is a softness in Rosarias words, a quiet plea that she doesn’t think he can survive being apart from you. She doesn't often say things like these, you're not even sure if she ever had asked you for something like this. But you aren't complaining.

"Please," she urges gently, hand rising to caress your cheek. "Don’t leave me alone."

"Never" Rosaria wraps her arms tightly around you once more. She is a woman made of stone and steel, but when confronted with your love, she becomes like a girl. A girl who has just been told that she is loved back.

"I love you." She whispers, eyes closed, face buried in the crook of your neck. "I don't know what I'd do if I did not have you at my side."

She breathes, then, "You… make me whole."

Mona - Fate is called as such, for it cannot be changed, nor can it be reversed. It can only but be accepted.

She breathes in, her body trembling in your arms. She is still in a way that you would never suspect, but her soul? Your fingers, your touch, your voice? It's as if they've been her guiding light in a galaxy of millions of stars. "Your touch," she breathes, her eyes still shut. "Yours," she whispers, almost to herself, breath soft against your shoulder as she nuzzles into your neck.

"I have so badly wished to feel it."

"You like it this much in my arms?" Mona nods, breath catching as a faint blush appears on her cheeks when you speak. Just now she realized how blod she actually was. "I am content." There's a smile that blooms on her lips when she finally opens his eyes. She is close to you now; your hands can feel the rise and fall of her breath underneath your fingers.

Mona’s body presses closer against yours, seeking comfort in the warmth of your body. The faint blush on her cheeks has only grown more intense as she stares at you, unmoving, her eyes searching your face, studying every inch of it once more with a deep reverence. As if she had never studied it in the first place.

"When I look at you," Her voice is a whisper. "What I feel… it is much more than content." And look at her now, hiding her face in your neck to stop your burning gaze upon her blushing face.

Lynette - Staying silent is beneficial for maintaining focus and gathering intelligence

She leans into you, the tension leaving her body, and her mind becomes clouded with the warmness of your embrace.

When Lynette's introverted personality acts up, she becomes distant and cold to most others. But with you, she wants to be close and intimate; she craves your presence and attention, needing the warmth of your touch. If anyone has the power to melt Lynette's seemingly icy facade, it's you. Lynette's lips tug up at the corner, and she smiles softly, her eyes fluttering closed with a pleasant flush. She can almost feel how she drifts off to sleep soon.

She takes a deep breath and looks up at you, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Can we...have tea after this?" "Of course" You're softly stroking her ears, careful not to be to rough, after all her ears are sensitive. In your arms, Lynette feels safe. It's a foreign feeling to her. When she's in your company, she feels his tension slowly ease; her breath is no longer heavy, but calm and even.

With you, she doesn't have to put up a front— he doesn't need her usual 'facade'. Lynette is content to simply remain in your arms, her face buried in your chest, and her eyes closed in absolute comfort. After all she's a cat, it's no wonder she started purring in your arms

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #shenhe x reader #xinyan x reader #lynette x reader #rosaria x reader #mona x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau genshin #sagau #genshin cult au

[binniebakery]

🇦​​🇧​​🇴​​🇻​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇨​​🇭​​🇮​​🇳​​🇪​​🇸​​🇪​ ​🇷​​🇪​​🇸​​🇹​​🇦​​🇺​​🇷​​🇦​​🇳​​🇹​🥡

Non Idol AU Ex!Yeonjun x Gn!Reader, Angst ♡Warnings: no happy ending, not proofread, cursing, I'm almost 90% this is gender neutral but if there is a mistake please let me know! ♡A/N: im so sorry this took forever to come out gfdgjhksd but its here! since this is my first time writing angst I'm not sure how i feel about this one but.. that's me with all my yeonjun fics... lmfao enjoy

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Above the Chinese Restaurant" By Laufey 𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "Don't Let Me Go" By Cigarettes After Sex

0:09 ━●────────── 3:43 ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷

——-˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹ 𐦍 ˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹——-

There you lay in the quiet solitude of your dimly lit room. The only source of light being the soft glow of your bedside lamp and a candle that smelled of sandalwood and something oddly familiar.

The outside world remained silent, a contrast to the buzzing thoughts that swarmed your mind. Your new apartment was quiet, lonely, and grey. It was nights like these that had you reminiscing those warm summer days you spent in the city.

Glancing over at the nearest window, you find yourself in a moment of deja vu. You’ve been here before– in this position looking outside as you lay in bed.

Except this time you weren’t waiting for anyone, it was just you and the sound of your ticking clock as the arms slowly moved to the next hour.

Time always seems to go by quicker than you can notice.

Your mind wanders back through the corridors of your memories as you clutch the soft fabric of your comforter. You let out a deep sigh as you find yourself reliving those memories again.

It’s cozy, you have a wonderful view of the greenery outside, it’s spacious, it’s a safe neighborhood, and your apartment is brand new. All of this and you would think ‘how could anyone ask for more?’

You realize it all fails in comparison to those distant memories. It's quite foggy really, you can’t really remember them too well leaving you pondering if so much time had really slipped away from you.

Just like he did

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

July 8th, Summer.

You and Yeonjun were simply young and dumb. At least that's what your parents would always say. Two ambitious individuals who found each other at a time when it seemed like the world was against you both.

Your families were against you moving into the city, but you were both young and desperate to start a new life together. It took weeks of couch surfing but despite the financial issues, you both managed to find that small apartment right above that old, run-down Chinese restaurant.

That summer the whole neighborhood spoke of the new young couple moving in, though you two paid no mind. Yeonjun enjoyed the attention and you were willing to endure anything as long as nobody spoke ill of either of you.

You remember Yeonjun’s small car lugging your belongings up the hill, and the minute you two arrive he’s opening the passenger door and pulling you into a hug.

He’s spinning you around and you’ve never felt happier. The summer heat burned down and your skin had tanned an awful lot, causing you to feel insecure about the obscure tan lines you modeled.

Of course, Yeonjun complimented you to the moon and back, kissing every bit of skin while his own was left sunburned. He always made you feel special no matter the occasion.

This moment was no less different, that bright, toothy grin of his as he clumsily plops down to lay with you on your shared futon.

“Got a gig next week, gonna earn so much too, I’ll buy you dinner every day for the next month!” Your boyfriend exclaims with his arms in the air.

You laugh at his expressive antics, leaning towards him to pull him in for a tight embrace.

“Don’t worry about that jjunie, I don’t need fancy dinners from you.”

“But I wanna,” he pouts “I gotta do something to make up for you working so hard!”

“Alright but nothing too expensive, we should be saving up..” You raise an eyebrow as Yeonjun makes himself comfortable laying his head in your lap.

“Mm, we’ll see” he chuckles and despite him burying his face into your thighs you can see the way his grin grows ever-so wider.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

While Yeonjun chased his dream of being the biggest rockstar the world had ever known, you worked as a dishwasher just downstairs and occasionally picked up any odd jobs you could find when you had the time.

You didn’t mind being the breadwinner– after all, you were content just being by your lover's side.

Yeonjun would come home in the early hours of the morning, returning from his latest gig that his small band managed to grab.

He’d quietly push open the door to your apartment, he'd set his guitar down with care on the floor and slip off his boots as silently as he could manage, mindful not to disturb your sleep after a long day of work.

He was always a gentleman, slipping beneath the covers beside you and gently pressing a tender kiss to your forehead as a silent apology for the missed "goodnight" texts he always promised to send but always ended up being too busy with his performances.

Your life with him wasn’t perfect, but regardless you had everything you could ever need.

It didn’t matter that the water always ran cold during the winter, the lack of heat or cool air circulation, the thin walls and loud neighbors, the constant sound of sirens running through the streets at night, or even the unstoppable growing mold in the corner of your bathroom.

You two were happy regardless of the trials this life had brought you.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

September 30th, Fall

You’re clutching that same old soft comforter, except this time echoes of soft laughter and plates clinking could be heard bouncing off the thin walls of your humble apartment.

Yeonjun lights the candle he had just bought, the scent of sandalwood filling the air as he finds his way to you.

“If you listen closely you can hear Mr. Wang snoring” Yeonjun whispers as he snuggles closer to your shaking form in an attempt to warm you both.

You toss another dumpling into your mouth and grin.

“Sometimes I wish that was all we heard at night. I don’t know how much longer I can stand his bed creaking on Fridays..” You snicker and that was all it took for your boyfriend to burst into a fit of giggles.

“Shhh! My love please!” You whisper loudly as you lean over your shared futon to cover his mouth.

Yeonjun holds back tears as he attempts to regain composure. You grab a dumpling from your plate and shove it into his mouth.

Your boyfriend happily munches as you sigh, a wide smile on your face despite wanting to be annoyed. “You think the restaurant will give us more if I head back down?” He looks down at his empty plate, stomach rumbling and his eyes look back at you. His face resembled a child getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to, guilty look on his face.

You find yourself giggling at how cute he looks, hand reaching to gently caress his cheek. Yeonjun smiles and lets the food in his mouth peek out slightly.

“Aw jjunie thats gross!” You laugh, pushing him away.

Yeonjun laughs as well, cheekbones popping out in all their glory from the way his smile extends impossibly more and you feel yourself falling even more impossibly in love.

That ends up being how the both of you spend the rest of your night, attempting to remain silent so as not to get another noise complaint. Sharing jokes and silent tickle fights, the perfect distraction against the autumn weather.

If only your nights stayed like this forever.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

February 22nd or 23rd? You could never really remember the date.

Despite winter soon making it’s leave, you stay stuck inside the restaurant building with Yeonjun as the winter storm still roars on outside.

“Jjunie! I’m home!” You chirp as you open the door to your apartment.

Yeonjun looks up from his phone, laying on the worn couch you had both found on someone’s lawn with a sign that said ‘please take’. Despite your sour look Yeonjun somehow managed to convince you both to take it “looks like it’s still in good condition to me” he awkwardly smiled as he wiped off the remaining dust. 

You shake your head smiling at the memory.

“Hey, you. How was work?” He smiles and pats the empty spot next to him for you to sit.

“Same old, but it wasn’t that busy today. I even managed to take a nap in the freezer before Mr Wang noticed me.” You grinned.

Yeonjun lets out a chuckle and you crawl into his lap, resting your head on his shoulder.

He opens the blanket he was currently wrapped in and invites you in to join him in his little burrito.

You bury your face into his neck, inhaling that familiar scent you grew to love. Yeonjun places a hand on your back and rubs small circles as he plants a kiss on your hairline.

“Hey, I know that you’ve been out a lot. You know– busy with band stuff, but do you think you could maybe get a small side gig to help us out?” You looked at him with a nervous smile.

You knew Yeonjun took his band career seriously. He did everything he could to help, taking any small gig he and his bandmates could find. But most of the time it just felt like it wasn’t enough to pay the bills.

“Baby�� we talked about this before.. You know I–” 

Before Yeonjun can finish his response, your conversation gets interrupted.

Creak

“What the–”

“Is that the roof?” Yeonjun squints his eyes as he looks at the wooden planks above him. You both sit in silence staring upwards, waiting for the odd sound to play again.

Nothing.

“Huh..” You lift yourself off your boyfriend and stand in the middle of your tiny living room, eyes still concentrated on trying to figure out where the sound was coming from.

..Creak…

“Ah shit–! Y/n look out!” Yeonjun jumps off the couch and grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him as part of your roof collapses right on top of the spot you were standing on. A fresh blanket of snow pouring in.

“Holy fuck, fuck fuck fuck–”

“Y/n are you okay?! Did you get hurt?!” His hands grab your face and his eyes are scanning for any injuries.

“I- I’m fine but our roof just fucking caved in!??! Shit, I could have been crushed!” Your jaw was practically dropped at the situation.

Yeonjun pulls away and walks towards the pile of wood and snow to assess the damage.

And as if right on cue, another fresh blanket of snow falls right on top of him. “AH!” Yeonjun yells, shaking off the remaining snow sitting on his head.

“Stupid fucking roof! I hate this damn apartment, not only do we not have any heat but we don’t even have a roof!”

“Pffft–!”

Yeonjun looks over and sees your face almost red, doubled over as you tried your best to keep in your laughter and he can’t help but feel his anger dissipate at the sight.

He hadn’t seen you laugh or smile like this in a while.

“You–! you look so stupid right now– I’m sorry!” You breathe out, falling on the couch as you let out a heavy laugh.

Your boyfriend beams, seeing you like this was better than any blanket or heater. His heart skips as you pull him in to lightly dust off the remaining snow.

So what if it took half of your savings jar and Yeonjun sacrificing almost a whole night of sleep to fix the roof? Every penny and splinter was worth seeing that priceless smile of yours.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

April 3rd, Spring. After two weeks of nonstop work, you finally had a day off the same day Yeonjun was home for the day.

You took the opportunity to splurge and eat in. You put on your favorite movie as you folded both of your laundry, Yeonjun making comments every now and then, pausing to get up and check on the stew you were making.

You found yourself wishing your days were like this more often. You knew he was busy and you respected that he wanted to chase his dreams, and who were you to get in the way of that?

Unbeknownst to you, Yeonjun had been silent the last few minutes.

Suddenly, you feel his figure scoot behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “One day I’m gonna make enough money for us to get out of this dump.” He mumbles into your neck.

“Huh?” You looked up from the pile of clothing that you were attending to.

“You heard me, I’m gonna make it big. The day that I do, I’m gonna buy you brand new clothes, a cute dog, we’re gonna live in a mansion, and then get married.”

Your face flushes and you smile. This was the first time Yeonjun had ever mentioned marriage to you.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, gonna be the biggest star this world will ever know. My face is gonna be plastered on every billboard. Then, we’ll have kids.. and then when I’m too old to perform, we’re gonna be so rich you’ll never have to work another day in your life” he grins.

“Feeling a little ambitious are we?” You giggle, raising an arm to pat his head. His hair felt soft, it had been so long since you ran your fingers through it. You find yourself closing your eyes as you begin to imagine your ideal future.

“Say whatever you want. It’s gonna happen!” Yeonjun raises a fist in the air, as if giving a speech to a crowd and you feel as if you couldn’t have been more in love with him in that moment.

One day, he’s gonna be in front of a real crowd, the largest one he’s ever seen, and you swear you’ll be front row cheering him on.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

May 16th, Spring.

You throw his bag down in frustration. “So this entire fucking time you were just going out and having fun? Drinking with your bandmates while I’m here working my ass off trying to keep a roof over our heads?!”

Yeonjun sighs and grits his teeth.

“No. I’m not just going out and having fun. Yes, I admit! Sometimes we’re out of luck and Soobin can’t get us a fucking gig. We go to a place and have a few drinks to destress, but I promise you I am trying my hardest! I do everything I can to get a shitty gig, I hang out with other douchebag bands so we can get connections y/n! Con-nec-tions! You ever fucking heard of that?!”

Another argument, the 4th night in a row.

This time you were cleaning around the apartment, finding Yeonjun’s bag as he took his shower before heading out for the evening to meet with his bandmates. ‘A huge meeting talking about an upcoming event they’re going to perform at’ he claimed.

You open his bag, knowing that he’d appreciate you cleaning up the trash he had inside. He trusted that you wouldn’t toss any of his half-written lyrics or important documents anyway.

That’s when you see it, three– no four– crumble receipts inside the inner pocket. You unscramble them to see they’re all charges from bars. Not just the same one, but multiple, containing only large orders of alcoholic drinks with the occasional snack to go along.

Anger consumes you before you think rationally, and as Yeonjun walks out of the shower with just a towel around his waist shaking his wet black hair, you shove the receipts in his face.

After minutes of back and forth, the tension grows immensely thicker. And before you both even notice, it all turns into a yelling match. 

He explains that it’s due to him not being able to find proper gigs as of recently, and how drinking will destress him, going off on a rant about how it’s normal in the industry to drink with managers and other bands to get a good rep. “Do you even fucking care about us!? We live in a dump! I had to call someone to fix our dishwasher three times last month! What if I get fired or laid off? We’re just gonna live on the fucking streets?! Be realistic Yeonjun! Be fucking realistic!”

“Maybe the issue is you don’t care y/n.. You just don’t understand that I’m serious! I’m taking this shit all seriously! I’m sorry I can’t find a proper job right now, but I need just more time.. And if you can’t respect my dream then honestly.. Maybe I should just fucking go right now for good.”

You couldn’t even respond. The tears in your eyes began to drip down and Yeonjun could only watch as your eyebrows furrow more, face scrunching up in an attempt to hide the frustration you were feeling.

He knew you hated crying, especially in front of him.

Had your eye bags always been so deep?

Yeonjun’s lips part and you hear his breath hitch the second it all starts crashing down on him. 

He stares at how disheveled your hair is. The way your skin looked so pale and almost blue under the dim light of the moon from your opened blinds. He remembers the way he used to kiss up your sunkissed arm the first few months you both moved into your tiny apartment. Letting the sun shine through the windows as you both danced slowly to whatever bossanova song played through your vintage radio.

Those first few months of summer were golden. They were warm like your skin on his when he woke up in the morning to you with his arms wrapped around your waist. Now your skin looked cold, dull, and you looked stretched thin.

How could he have just noticed all this? He was living with you the whole time.

In reality, he stopped being present a long time ago.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

The following days Yeonjun was nowhere to be seen.

You cried every day, constantly looking over to the door to see if he would just waltz in, big grin as he held a golden contract to a label over your head. You glanced over at the couch often, expecting your lover to be sitting as usual on his phone or hunched over writing whatever lyrics he could muster.

You called and texted but no response was ever given. Even if you had a car, not that walking would stop you, you had no idea of his whereabouts. Where would you even begin to look?

Then finally at the end of the week, Yeonjun returns home.

You weren’t there when he arrived, you still had to work despite the fact that things were rough. So when you return that night, all that’s left is your stuff and a note.

To my dearest y/n, Sorry for everything. I hope you understand that I need to do things my way right now. This is stupid but I'm sure you can imagine where this is going. Maybe in the future we’ll find each other again, but as of right now, I have to leave. If you need me you have my number,  See you around baby -Yeonjun

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅⋆｡°

Shortly after, you find yourself moving out of that old apartment. You never texted or called Yeonjun, and he never did so to you either.

As time goes by and the seasons pass, you can’t help but wonder where he ended up.

Did he continue to seek that dream he always wanted?

Maybe being with you was his biggest dream all along,

He just didn’t know it then.

Deep down Yeonjun wished he could have shown his appreciation for you more. How much he wished to give you a better life, to be a better boyfriend. How much he wished that on those nights when he’d arrive late in the morning hours, you’d wake up to see him giving you those gentle kisses, or how he’d double check to make sure the blanket was properly covering your sleeping figure.

Oh, how Yeonjun would never know about those faded photographs you still have saved from your old polaroid camera. Both of you with wide smiles as you sat in the pile of snow in the middle of your living room. You often found yourself wishing you could go back. Go back to when things were simpler, go back to that summer you moved in that tiny apartment.

As these nights go on, so does time. Therefore the tears that you find yourself wiping away eventually dry, and you let these memories go with a sigh. They carry themselves away along with the gentle breeze that whispers through your open window. And as that sandalwood candle’s wick flickers out, you realize so does the love you once held for him.

#BakeryTreat♡ #txt imagines #txt scenarios #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun angst #txt x reader #txt angst #yeonjun x y/n

[cheollipop]

i'll be with you

navi | taglist

pairing: park seonghwa x gn!reader

w.c.: 1.6k

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, non-sexual nudity, seonghwa is so soft *cries*

A long, dreadful day at work calls for a hot shower and sleep, perhaps a few hours of crying as well. What you don't account for, however, is the man who wouldn't let you go through that alone.

A/N: this was an old fic that I fixed up to fit seonghwa and I'm not going to lie it had me gripping my chair bc he's so soft and I'm so in love with him I could cry for days. By the end of it, I hope you can all remember that you are so so loved.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Leaving a trail of clothes behind you, you made your way into the bathroom, shedding yourself of the last of your garments and stepping into the shower. You watched the glass around you slowly fog up before stepping under the showerhead, fully immersing yourself under the stream of hot water and allowing your muscles to relax.

It had been a long day at work. Your social battery was drained. Just the thought of repeating the same routine tomorrow tipped you over the edge, your tears merging with the hot water as it descended down your body. You cried for a while, sobs ripping through your chest, masked under the sound of water pattering against the floor tiles.

You didn’t hear the jingle of keys at your front door, the soft knock on your bathroom door startling you. News articles of 'the murder victim found naked in their shower' flashed into your head. They didn't sound appealing in the slightest, so you reached for your shampoo bottle – the closest thing to a weapon you could find – but lowered your arm when you heard the familiar baritone of Seonghwa’s voice on the other side of the door, your heart calming its violent banging against your ribcage.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” he spoke. And although you had evolved into a sobbing mess over the mere thought of speaking to another human being only a few minutes ago, right now, you wanted nothing but to be engulfed in his arms.

“Yeah,” you replied, wincing at the crack in your voice. You knew he knew. You didn’t have to tell him, the trail of clothes you had left outside enough for him to figure out you had a bad day.

“Are you sure?” His voice was so soft, so warm, so Seonghwa.

You remained silent, hot tears pooling in your eyes once again.

“Are you crying?”

Well, now you were. Switching the water off, you wrapped yourself in a big towel and prepared to face the man on the other side of the door. You kept your eyes fixed on the floor by your feet as you opened the door. He was wearing your fluffy slippers despite them being too small for him, the heels of his feet sticking out the back. You almost smiled.

“Hey,” he said, his voice so tender you almost melted into the floor. You weren’t looking at his face, but you could tell he was smiling. He was always smiling when he was with you. “Bad day?” He asked after a few seconds of silence. Of course he knew.

You only nodded, walking into his open arms. He wrapped them around you, holding you against his chest. You sucked in a breath, the soft scent of baby lotion lingering behind the musk of his cologne releasing a fresh batch of dopamine into your system. You realised that this was what you needed, not sleep, but Seonghwa and his crushing embrace. He was so warm, even as the water cooled on your skin, shivers shaking your body as your teeth clattered against each other.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, brushing his lips against your temple. With you still in his arms, he walked you to your room, waddling together through the small apartment. With your face buried in his chest, you didn’t notice that he had cleaned up the stream of clothes you had left behind, the sound of the washing machine in the laundry room going unnoticed by you.

--

Your eyes watched as the droplets of water slid down the sides of your thighs where Seonghwa had sat you down on your bed. He allowed a comfortable silence to engulf the room while he looked through your closet for something warm to wear, smiling to himself when he saw the stack of hoodies that were once his occupying a generous space in one of your drawers. He picked out his favourite along with a pair of sweatpants.

He kneeled on the ground by your feet, gently lifting each leg off the ground to slip on your underwear. He left it gathered at your knees and moved to remove the wet towel still wrapped around your body, studying your face for any signs of discomfort, hands pausing their movement as he looked at you with those wide eyes. As if he could ever make you uncomfortable. You nodded, shoulders closing in on your body when he pulled the towel off you, cold air hitting your damp skin. Seonghwa was quick to cover you up with an undershirt, followed by his hoodie.

Warmth was quick to seep into your skin, especially after he had pulled on your sweatpants. He stood up and signalled for you to do the same, and he continued to pull up your bottoms.

Seonghwa held your waist in his hands. Warm, you thought, even through the layers of clothing, you could feel the warmth of his palms. You relaxed against him. His hands moved up to the back of your neck and you felt the plush of his lips pressing against the top of your head. You sighed in content, sensing the tension you had felt all day slip away, as if it was never there to begin with. You wrapped your arms around him, holding your hands together at the small of his back, silently appreciating him for not pushing you to speak. Perhaps that was because you didn’t exactly know what to say. You appreciated that he took care of you in times like this. You appreciated everything he did for you. You appreciated him.

But how could he not take care of you? Leaving you to fall sleep alone in a cold, empty bed, with tears staining your precious skin; how would he ever forgive himself? He would drop everything to hold the person he loved so dearly, you; to feel you nuzzle up in his arms after a long day.

“Thank you,” you broke the silence.

Your voice was hoarse, nose red, and the tiny sniffles you made every other second brought a smile to Seonghwa’s lips. You were so cute, standing there in his arms, in his hoodie, smelling like the shampoo you had been using since he had first met you. Everything about you felt so familiar to him. There was not a single part of you he didn’t love. Your face, your nose, your body, the perfume you always wore, the fact that you thought he found it boring when you told him about your day when – in fact – he would've been waiting for it all day, buzzing with excitement to find out what his favourite person had gotten up to in his absence. Even when you pressed your ice-cold hands against his neck when you kissed him – it made his heart melt. Even if he flinched away from you.

“Anytime,” you felt him smile against your forehead as he pressed his lips against the soft skin. “I’m always here for you, (Y/n).”

Warmth surged through your abdomen, and you pulled away from him, holding his hand in yours and gesturing towards your bed. Seonghwa watched you climb under the thick blanket before doing the same, holding his arms out for you. You instantly moved forward, melting into his chest as his strong arms enveloped your frame.

You were no longer thinking about the gruesome day you’d had, nor were you thinking about the gruesome day you were probably going to have tomorrow. Your mind could only focus on how Seonghwa’s arms were wrapped so firmly around you, how overwhelming his scent was as you buried your face into his chest, how you were basically swimming in his hoodie, how Seonghwa, and everything about Seonghwa, was so comforting. He occupied all your senses. He knew you better than you know yourself, and treated you better than you could ever treat yourself. He was slowly teaching you to love yourself, even with all your flaws, because those flaws were what made you so uniquely you.

“Today was terrible,” you spoke after what seemed like hours of silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“That’s okay,” he said, placing a kiss at the crown of your head.

More silence. His fingers carded through your hair all the while.

“Seonghwa?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, voice small, feeling guilty for taking up his time, praying to every God out there that having to take care of you wouldn’t make him love you any less.  

“You didn’t do anything wrong, love. There’s no need to apologize,” Seonghwa was quick with his response. “There’s no shame in letting me take care of you once in a while.” He rubbed your back as he spoke, a simple gesture that sent waves of warmth coursing through your body.

“But-“

“Shh, relax,” he interrupted. “You’re allowed to have bad days. You’re human. And you’re not alone.” His words were so soft, so gentle, voice vibrating through his chest. Your eyes watered at the mere thought of being loved so unconditionally. You didn’t feel like you deserved it, yet it felt unfair to reject it.

He felt your lips quiver against his neck, and his arms around you tightened ever so slightly. “You can cry, my darling. I’m here.” Seonghwa nuzzled his nose against yours, peppering kisses all over your eyelids, wiping your tears with gentle swipes of his thumb, his lips moving to your cheek, then your forehead.

“I-I love you,” your voice shook, making Seonghwa chuckle, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe. You were so cute.

“Oh, (Y/n),” he breathed out, pressing his cheek to your temple. “I love you so much.”

That – unfortunately – only made you cry harder. And he laughed at you, the prick. But it didn’t take long for your own giggles to mingle with his, not when his fingers prodded at your sides with reckless abandon, tears still streaming down your face. You wanted to capture this moment to keep forever, even with the tears and snot. It was warm, it was happy, it was all you could ask for.

As your laughter died down, you rested your head next to his on the small pillow, breath melding with his as you stared into each other's eyes. No more words were exchanged, the quiet surrounding you void of any discomfort. Soon, your fatigue would tug at your eyelids, aided by the soft scratching of Seonghwa's nails against your scalp. Catching a glimpse of the tender smile gracing Seonghwa's lips, you allowed sleep to take over you, slowly carrying you into a dream revolving around the man laying at your side.

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