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sxtvrns · 1 year

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purity and its presence in growth

🎶 now playing: my heart it beats for you - grentperez

P: Soul (Haku Shota) x Fem!Reader

S: Moving to Korea in the peak of your adolesence isn't easy. You just happened to be there to help. How can he miss you so much even though you only knew each other for an hour? Maybe exchanging numbers was a better idea than he thought.

C: fluff, cute moments, inaccuracy, brainrot, baby p1ece don't slander me, needed to get this into my drafts immediately, kinda sloppy, drabble, puppy love, longer than it should be

N: Y/N is your first name, L/N is your last name. i saw somewhere online that said soul moved to korea when he was 13 for fnc and somehow this idea began to brew in the deep depths of my strange brain. im a little new to piwon so if i get something wrong im sorry :P any ages mentioned are korean age, not international. his name means like 'child with a pure soul' so thats why the title sounds so poetic but okay enjoy the potato child content

view the rest of the conversations ☆彡

please interact if you enjoy!

After the almost 3 hour flight to Incheon, Shota stands in the airport mindlessly, staring at his phone and trying to resist the urge to call his mom. Though he knew that she'd pick up in a heartbeat if he did, he suddenly had a rush of independence surge through his veins when he stepped off the plane, telling himself every day was gonna be lonesome and that he'd have to learn how to get around. It wasn't until he got near the exit that he realized he had no idea what to do.

He should ask someone. There was a high chance quite a few people on that flight could also speak Japanese, but even so, he couldn't muster up the courage to talk to anybody. So he stood awkwardly, out of the way, watching all the people walk by and glance at him periodically.

He'd been studying Korean during his break time at school while at home in Japan, but he was afraid he'd say something wrong and embarass himself.

His eyes wandered amongst the people, and past the crowd of tall adults, there was you. A girl, who looked around his age, spacing out by some suitcases while some other adults, probably your parents, were talking to the clerks at the service deck. He took a deep breath, dragging his suitcases along with him as he shuffled past the bustling crowd and up to you.

"Excuse me." He mutters, catching your attention. "I need... to go... to this place. I.... don't know how." Your head tilts a little, confused while the cogs begin to turn in your head while he shows you the address. "You need a ride?" He nods. "Well, there's the railroad, but maybe a taxi can get you there faster..."

Now he's the confused one. "Could you... speak... slower?"

"Do you understand Korean?" You ask. He gestures with his fingers almost pinched together, meaning a little. "What other languages do you speak?"

"Japanese."

You smile. "If I'd known that, I would've answered in it then." You say, switching tongues so smoothly Shota's brain nearly fails to comprehend what just happened. "Where are your parents? Mine are taking too long at the desk."

"I came alone. My mom might come in the next few days to help me with moving. And send me off.”

"You and your mom are moving here? What about your dad?"

"No, I'm moving here. Alone. Just me. For work." You eye him and the two suitcases at both of his sides. "You look my age. How do you already have a job?"

"Um... I'm a trainee." Your eyes widen as you begin to nod, shocked. "Really? Already?" He nods as your eyes observe him again. "Cool. That's- wow, okay..." You struggle to finish your sentence, cutting yourself off. "Right, you need to get around- okay. Um, you could follow me. I know how to get the one way passes. Do you have money?" He nods. You begin to walk away as he trails behind you, following you to some sort of kiosk.

Guiding him through purchasing a pass, your parents meet with you by the railway, scolding you for walking off without informing them first before stepping on and finding seats on the train. The boy sits down next to you in the window seat, staring out at the scenery for the first time. "You could have taken a taxi, but I felt like I should've stayed with you. Y'know, so I can tell you more about how to get around and stuff."

"Thank you, by the way. I appreciate this. I think I would've gotten run over without you." He jokes lightheartedly. "No problem. I suddenly felt nice for once, so you're lucky you caught me at a good time." You send him the same energy, both of you laughing as the train begins to move. "When you get off with us, you can ask for a taxi, they'll drive you to the exact address. I’m sure you already know that, though." You add, him nodding before leaning fully back against the chair.

"What's your name?"

The question catches him off guard, staring at your awaiting face, almost forgetting to answer.

"Shota."

The way he introduces himself to you makes you smile. "L/N. Nice to meet you. It's nice having someone to talk to at my age that speaks my mother tongue. Even if all we do is just sit here and pass out while waiting to arrive." Your matching humour is something that sticks out to Shota, one that he likes laughing along to. "It must be scary, flying here alone and having to figure things out on your own. Especially with how young you are. I hope you'll do okay when we part ways."

"I'm still here for now. What are you and your family doing here?" He changes the topic, not wanting to think about you having to leave him so soon. "My dad's side of the family is Korean, so we come here often to visit them. We're considering moving here, since their side is trying to convince me to sign up for a career in modelling. They always say I 'have the visuals', which I don't see, but it wouldn't hurt to try."

"Don't forget me when you're famous." Shota says.

"I could say the same for you, Mr. Trainee. You'll make it far, I bet. I'm looking forward to your debut already."

"And I'm looking forward to seeing you on the billboards." You both smile at each other, a brief moment of silence settling between you two. Shota feels a tap on the side of his arm, head turning to look at you. You hold your phone towards him, the keypad open and empty. "Is it okay if we exchange numbers? This may be the only time we ever see each other, and I like talking to you. And you can text me if you ever need anything. I respond very quickly." Your attempt at convincing him was not needed, as he took your phone out of your hands swiftly and punched his number in. You did the same for his phone when he handed it to you, creating your contact for him.

L/N (ㆁωㆁ)

You write your name in Kanji for him, hearing him huff after you hand back his phone. You couldn't see the soft smile that adorned his face after seeing the contact name you set for yourself, as your eyes were already beginning to shut and send you into a deep sleep. For the rest of the ride, Shota looks out the window and all the buildings they pass by. Feeling a light weight against his arm, his gaze moves to check.

Your head rests against his arm, Shota listening carefully and hearing soft, deep breaths come from you. At first, he nearly freezes, but forgets about it and relaxes, letting you doze against his arm, checking on you periodically until the train reaches your stop.

Your parents are the first to see you two in that position, and while Shota's first instict is to panic and apologize, the idea quickly goes away, a smile on your mom's face as she shakes you gently to wake you up. When you first open your eyes, you see your mom, then turn to see Shota staring at you, nearly leaning against the window. You slowly begin to put the pieces together, embarrassed when coming to the correct conclusion.

When you wave as his taxi departs from the train station, reality dawns upon him. He’s alone, and he’ll have to figure out more than just how to get around since you’re gone now. He didn’t want to have to depend on you and annoy you all the time, so he vowed to himself that he’d learn and teach himself, along with the help of his fellow group members.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

After Shota settled into the dorm and was toured around headquarters, the feeling of lying in bed suddenly felt more desirable than he thought it’d ever be. It’s been a few days since he parted ways with you, and he was hesitant to text you for some unknown reason.

He stared at your open empty message box for a while, spacing out until his phone starts buzzing in his hand. He reads your name on the screen, realizing you were calling him. He sits up, still in shock at the timing that he almost forgets to answer.

“Hello?” He greets, almost unsure. “Shota! How are you? Sorry I haven’t texted or anything, I’ve been having a lot of meetings with my family and stuff.” He’s frozen in place at the sound of your voice, so gleeful than how you first met. “No, it’s okay. I spent the last few days settling in so it’s fine.”

“Are you busy right now? Am I calling at a bad time?”

“No.”

“Are you okay? You sound nervous.”

He sits there for a moment, taking a deep breath before responding.

“I kinda miss you.” It’s embarrassing for him to admit, but he really does. “Oh.” He hears you mutter over the phone, probably unaware that he heard. “I miss you too, Shota. It sounds strange, but I do get worried about you sometimes. But the fact you picked up the phone is assurance that you’re okay, so…”

“It’s a bit hard when you aren’t around, y’know? Like, I don’t know, maybe it’s because you can speak Japanese and I’m not afraid of messing up in front of you because I can speak my home language, but it’s hard to talk to other people. Even my groupmates. I can understand what they’re saying, but I’m too nervous to mess up to even say anything to them.”

“Well, you can’t get better at speaking if you don’t speak at all. It’s okay to make mistakes, Shota. I made a lot when I was learning too. At least you try.”

“Kee– I mean, one of my group members is teaching me. He had to learn it too.”

“So you’re both learning together! That’s good, you both share learning experiences. I’d love to teach you, but it’s kinda hard over call.”

“But it’s possible?”

“Yeah.”

He ponders for a moment before coming up with an idea. “I have a laptop. We can video call when I’m not busy.”

“Really? Are you okay with it?”

“I’m the one that asked.”

“Do you think we can call… for non-lesson purposes? Y’know, just to talk?”

He huffs, and thought you don’t see it, you hear a smile in his tone. “Of course. I’d really like that.”

The door to their room opens, Jongseob entering. “Hi Soul.” Apparently his voice picks up on the microphone, because you ask, “Who’s that?”

“My roommate. One of them.”

“Who are you talking to?” Jongseob asks, looking over at Soul. “My friend.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“We met at the...” Soul knows the word, but is worried he’ll say it wrong.

“Airport.” You find the word for him, saying it into his ear.

“…Airport. She helped me.” He finishes his sentence with your help.

“She? Aren’t we not allowed to talk to girls as trainees?”

“We aren’t?”

“I think so? Maybe I’m thinking of something else; I keep in touch with my friends so I think it’s fine.”

“Are they all boys?”

“Mostly. Some girls.”

“I can’t talk to you anymore?” You ask, Shota almost forgetting he was on call with you. “We can. I think. We’ll do it in secret.” He hears you laugh on the other end. “Soul?” You say, overhearing the name his friend called him.

“My Korean name. I came up with it. With my roommates.”

“It’s cute! It suits you.” For some reason, he feels too flattered at your compliment. He overhears someone yelling in the background. “I need to go and help with dinner. I’ll talk to you soon! Bye!”

“Bye–“ He gets cut off by the sound of the call ending, letting himself fall back onto the bed, arms sprawled out. Jongseob looks over again at his roommate, who’s staring at the ceiling. “Are you okay?” He asks. Soul lazily responds with a thumbs up. “What happened?”

“Cute.” He mutters loud enough for his roommate to hear. “Cute?” Jongseob questions, puzzled. Soul points at himself, the cogs turning in his roommate’s head briefly before his eyes widen in realization. “She called you cute?!”

“My name.”

“Your name? She called your name cute? Soul?” He nods, Jongseob more shocked than he should’ve been. “Don’t fall in love yet, Soul, we haven’t debuted yet.” He jokes lightheartedly before he goes back to scrolling on his phone.

For a while, you’re the one to initiate calls. You always hesitate, knowing how busy he is, but you eventually learn that he’s off on Sundays and is usually off training well past 10 in the evening. If otherwise, he calls you first.

He enjoys talking to you a lot. He’s more comfortable speaking his home language in general, and the fact he has someone to talk to in it makes coming home from practice even more exciting.

His roommates would wonder why he rushes to his room so quickly the minute they step foot back in their dorm, but don’t question it. As long as he was able to talk to you, through call or text, he was able to stay sane.

While on FaceTime with him, the door to his room opens, as it usually does when you two call, this time a different man you haven’t seen before by the door. You eventually met Jongseob, the first guy who walked in on the two of you calling, and saw what he looked like, but this guy was definitely not him. He looked a little intimidating.

“Soul, do you want anything? We’re ordering delivery.” The man asks, Soul looking back at him. “Fries.”

“Just fries? Like usual?”

“I want… the same thing as you. Except large fries.”

“Okay, sure. Who’s that?” He seems to have noticed your face on Soul’s phone screen. “My friend. This is Keeho.” He introduces the man at the door to you, the name familiar. “He’s teaching you Korean?” The man gives a thumbs up, switching to a wave. “Hello, Soul’s friend!” He greets, his smile ridding all your previous opinions of him being intimidating.

“Hello! I’m just talking to Soul for a bit. How are you?” You reply, Keeho equally befuddled as Soul when he first met you, and how you switched tongues so effortlessly. “I’m doing well, thank you. How did you two meet?”

“Airport. I helped him get around for a bit.”

“Oh, really? That’s cool. I’ll be heading out now, sorry to interrupt.” Keeho waves at the camera again before shutting the door. Soul turns back to face you. “He looked scary.” You admit. Soul seems to agree with you, given the expression on his face. “That’s what I thought too! But he’s really nice and funny.”

“How many of your roommates know about me?”

“He’s the second one.”

“And how many roommates do you have?”

“Five. Plus me, so six.”

“Six?! And you share a room with how many people?”

“3 per bedroom. The whole place is actually quite roomy.”

“I don’t think I’d survive…”

“If you’re rooming with just girls, you’ll be fine. Boys, however…”

“Yeah, I get what you mean.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You got a haircut!”

“You noticed.”

“Of course I noticed. It looks really good!”

“I got something else too.”

“What is it?”

Soul grabs something out of frame, eyes focusing on his fingers. “Keeho and I went out today. I found these rings and bought them.” He curls his hand into a fist, showing them off to the camera. It’s a variety of different skull rings, a few on his right hand and a few on his left. “Cool! Where’d you get them? I want some for myself.”

“I can just give you one.”

“Really? But you just bought them.”

“When we meet up sometime, you can pick one.”

“Are you sure?”

“If it helps remind you of me.”

Your face goes warm. “You’re so sweet, Shota.”

“Did you cut your hair?” He asks. You’re surprised he noticed, given how subtle the difference was. “It was just a trim. And they made it flowier or something.” His head moves closer to the camera. “Are you keeping it this short?” You shake your head. “Getting rid of split ends and stuff. It’ll grow back eventually.”

“It’s very pretty. It looks good on you.”

“Thank you…” You mutter, flustered for a reason you can’t make out. How noticeable could a subtle change be that it could evoke such words not meant to be anything more than meaningful?“I really want to see you.”

“You’re seeing me right now.” He jokes. “I know, but… in person. I feel kinda limited only being able to see you on my laptop or phone screen.”

“Me too. I haven’t debuted, so it’s kind of risky for me to be hanging out with a girl. Outside.”

“They don’t know we’ve been calling?”

“They know. But it’s more discreet this way because no one can see us.”

“When are you debuting?”

“I don’t know yet. And if I did, I don’t know if I’d be allowed to tell you.”

“I’m good at keeping secrets! I still remember some from 5th grade.”

“If you say so.”

“Oh, I just remembered I needed to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

A smile slowly grows on your face. “I’m moving here.” Shota’s face is equally as shocked. “Really?”

“I got signed with an agent and got a few bookings! They’re small, but they’re something.”

“L/N, that’s amazing! You’re– you’re gonna be famous! I’m gonna see your face in all the stores!” You laugh at his enthusiasm. “Hey, maybe when we’re both famous, we can hang out in public! Maybe we can collaborate.”

It was always moments like this, purity radiated off your interactions. You’d get excited over the thought of seeing each other in person, what you’d do when you finally meet up, and how long you’d hang out together (you two always insisted on a night at your place). What you’d talk about, the kinds of pictures you’d take, what kind of food you could eat.

After all, you two were still kids.

You celebrated his 16th birthday late into the night, on voice call after his in person celebration with his roommates. He wished you were there as he blew out the candles on his cake.

“Happy birthday, Shota.” You softly greet, knowing he’s on the verge of falling asleep as he laid in bed. “Thank you.” He mutters, voice muffled, his face buried in his blankets. “I wish I could be with you in person. I got you a gift.”

“Really? You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to. I’ll give it to you when we finally meet up.”

“We always say we’re gonna meet up, but when? I don’t know if I can wait much longer.”

“It’s only a matter of your schedule. I’m free most of the time.”

“Maybe after I finally debut this year…” Shota’s eyes widen, realizing what he just said. “What? You’re debuting?”

“I didn’t mean to say that–“ You squeal softly over the phone in an attempt to not wreck his ears. “When were you going to tell me?!”

“Honestly, I forgot. I forget a lot of things.”

You stifle a laugh. “I’m so proud of you! All your hard work is finally paying off– maybe we really can see each other! When are you debuting?”

“Sometime later this year. It’s why I haven’t been picking up your calls, I’ve been really busy recording and stuff. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You do what you gotta do, okay? Just call me whenever you aren’t busy. Or text. Or whatever, I’m okay with anything.”

Shota softly chuckles. “So what did you get me?”

“It’s a surprise. You’ll find out eventually.”

“I’ll be 17 by the time I get that gift…”

“Keep your head up, Shota, we’ll see each other soon enough. You sound tired. Get some rest. Goodnight.” He breathes slow and deep before replying. “Goodnight, L/N.” He ends the call, taking out his earbuds and putting them and his phone on the small, crowded bedside table.

“Was that L/N?” Jongseob asked groggily. Soul replied with a monotone ‘mmm’, meaning he was right. “Who’s L/N?” Theo asks from the far side of the room. “Soul’s friend. They call all the time.”

“You talk to her like she’s your girlfriend. How you want to see her all the time and stuff. It’s cute.” Theo mutters, Soul barely making out what he said. His face goes warm at the assumption. “We haven’t seen each other… in 2 years. We’ve only met once in person.”

“And training is holding you back from seeing her? That’s why you video call?” Jongseob puts two and two together, receiving the same monotone response from Soul. “We’re off tomorrow. You can see her then.”

“But we haven’t debuted yet.”

“So? Intak meets with his friends all the time.”

“They’re all guys.”

“Soul, you can’t exactly be deprived of meeting up with your friends. And what if she’s a girl? If you want to hang out with her, hang out with her.” Theo speaks up, voice clearer now that his head isn’t buried in his blankets. “This goes for you too, Jongseob. You guys are still kids. If you’re being forced to be an adult in the industry, at least try to have fun while you’re still young outside of work.”

Soul lays there for a moment. “What if she’s sleeping?” He asks aloud. “The fact she called you this late means she’s probably still awake at this time.” Jongseob says, convincing Soul to pick up his phone one last time for the night. He opens your contact in his messages, typing swiftly.

I’m off tomorrow. Can we meet up?

By the time he falls asleep, he receives a message from you.

Yes please (⌒▽⌒)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“L/N? You’re seeing her today?” Keeho asks, making himself a bowl of cereal as Soul eats his own. Soul responds monotone with his mouth full, his leader sitting down with him. “Do you want me to go with you? I won’t stay the whole time, I’ll just drop you off with her then walk around myself, might just get some new clothes.”

‘You bought new clothes a week ago…’ Soul thinks.

“Are you gonna get her something? How long are you gonna be out for?” Soul shrugs his shoulders at Keeho’s question. The other bedroom door opens, Jiung emerging from the dark room with a loud yawn before closing the door. “Morning.” He greets, going for the same breakfast choice as the two boys sitting at the table.

“Does he know?” Keeho points at Jiung with his thumb. “Jiung and Intak don’t know.” The boy at the kitchen counter looks at them weirdly. “Me and Intak don’t know what?” He questions, suspicious of his two group-mates. “L/N.” Keeho answers.

“Who’s L/N?”

“He doesn’t know…!” Keeho whispers.

“Oh…” Jiung says after a brief moment of staring into space. “Isn’t that Soul’s girlfriend?”

Keeho nearly chokes on his cereal. “Girlfriend?!”

“No, she’s my friend!”

“Oh, my bad. You’re always smiling at your phone and you talk so lovey dovey in your room. The walls are quite thin.” Soul couldn’t figure out what was more embarrassing; the fact that the people in the other room could hear him talking to you or the fact two people thought he had a girlfriend. “We’re still trainees, Jiung, we can’t date. Besides, he’s only 16.”

“Just saying. Maybe after we debut, you can date–“

“Jiung, if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to cut your hair off in your sleep.” Keeho threatens. It seems to work, given that Jiung begins to eat his breakfast in silence. “I guess he does know.” Soul mutters, mostly to himself.

“So are you getting her anything?” Keeho asks, going back to his answered question. “Ring.” Soul shows off the accessories that decorated his fingers. “Really? I thought you said you’d never give those away. And that you’d end the world if you ever lost them…”

“I promised. And we can match.”

“Aww.” Jiung coos, the two boys at the table glaring at him. “What?”

Keeho turns back to Soul, taking their empty cereal bowls and stacking them on top of each other. “Go get changed, we’ll leave soon.” He says, going to put the dishes in the sick.

By the time Soul gets back to his room, Jongseob and Theo are awake, their lamps on. “Morning, Soul. How are you up so early?” Theo greets, Soul shrugging in response. They watch as their early bird roommate picks an outfit, throwing his clothes onto the bed. “Are you going somewhere?” Jongseob asks.

“I’m seeing L/N today.”

They both look at him, wide eyed and now fully awake. “Really?!”

“It was your idea.” He says, referring to both of them. “When are you leaving?” Theo asks, eyes still on Soul. “Soon. Keeho is walking with me. Then we’ll be on our own.”

“So it’s like a date?” Jongseob nudges Theo hard in the side. “Does everyone think that?” Soul groans, his roommates heading for the door.“Everyone that knows.” Jongseob smirks before he shuts the door, leaving Soul alone with his thoughts in the bedroom.

On the walk there, Soul plays with his fingers, fiddles with his rings, almost too nervous to even function. Keeho seems to notice, giving him a pat on the back. “There’s nothing to worry about, Soul. You’ve seen each other, you know each other. You’ve been looking forward to this for so long, what’s wrong?”

“It’s… different in person. I’m excited, but I’m scared I’ll…” Soul looks for the word, Keeho noticing him struggling to finish his sentence. “Embarrass yourself?” Soul nods. “You’ve seen all sides of each other, Soul. I hear you laugh at like… 11 in the evening. I think I heard you fall off your bed once.”

“She’s seen that side of you. I’m sure you’ve seen that side of her, too. You’ll be okay.” Keeho’s words make up the rest of the walk, as Soul stops in his path as his eyes land on you, sitting on a park bench perfectly shaded by a tree. He stands there, simply admiring you, and how he’s so happy he’s seeing you not on his phone screen.

He pulls out his phone, opening your contact and sending you a text.

Look to your right 👀

You do exactly that, and though you’re far away, he sees such a bright glow in your eyes as you get up and run over to him, jumping onto him for a hug. Soul is surprised at your sudden gesture, but happily accepts, holding you tight and even spinning you around.

“Shota! I’m so glad you–“ You notice Keeho out of the corner of your eye, simply smiling at the two of you. “Oh, hi Keeho...” You greet awkwardly, embarrassed that he saw the whole thing. “Nice to meet you, L/N. How long are you gonna be out for?”

“Until Soul wants to go home. A few hours, maybe.”

“Make sure you two stick together, okay? Otherwise all of us are gonna get in trouble in one way or another.” Keeho says lightheartedly before walking off. You look back at Soul, who’s staring at you with the brightest sparkle in his eyes. “You look even better in person.” You say, brushing his hair out of the way.

“Are you saying I don’t look good when we call?”

“I’m saying you look good no matter what.”

“Can I say the same for you?” He asks, as if you’re going to say no. “I actually want to show you something. And I have lots to tell you.” You take his hand without a second thought, pulling him with you. He’s caught off guard with your sudden gesture, but doesn’t protest in any way. Really, he enjoys it.

“Is this okay with you? Sorry, I forgot to ask.” Shota nods with a smile, and that’s all the assurance you need to keep your hold on his hand to guide him. “I hope we can meet like this again sometime. All the time.”

“Hey, I’m here now. Worry about that later.”

“You’re right. Come on!” You tug on his hand as you begin to lightly jog across the street, slowing down when you get nearby. “Okay, close your eyes.” He’s confused at first, but obliges. You guide him to an outside display of a clothing store. “You can open them now.”

Shota uncovers his eyes, seeing your face on display as a model for said store. “It’s you!” He exclaims as you nod off to the side. His gaze switches from you to the photo and back, and he finds himself staring at it for almost too long.

“I want a picture with it.” You laugh, taking his phone from him and snapping a few photos, switching to silly faces for the camera. “Do you like it?”

“I love it. You look so pretty. Beautiful.” Your face goes warm as you stare at him, and he stares at the photo. “You look really good.” He smiles, and your heart starts racing like never before. “Shota…” You mutter into his sleeve, holding onto his hand again. “What?”

“Let’s go. You can see my face some place else.”

“Can I get a photo with them too?”

You roll your eyes, unable to hold in your laugh. “Sure. You can take as many photos as you want.”

The day is full of you running around, taking photos, sharing food and drinks. And for almost all of it, Shota’s hand is in yours, and his grip never loosens. He never wants to let go.

Sitting at an outdoor table of a small café, you hand Shota a gift bag. “What’s this?” He asks. “Happy belated birthday, Shota.” At the sound of that, he looks through the bag, taking out a small potato plush. “Cute…!” He mutters, squeezing it in his hands. “I have one of my own. It came in a set, so I gave this one to you.”

“I love it.” He smiles, going through the bag again. There’s something at the bottom, which he grabs and pulls out. It’s a bracelet, similar to the one you were wearing at the moment. “I wanted to give you something that reminded you of me. If you ever get lonely. Sounds cheesy, but–“

“I’m never taking this off.” His dramatic reply cuts off your sentence as you help him tighten it on his wrist. “I want to give you something too.” You tilt your head. “But it was just your birthday. Shouldn’t you be the one receiving gifts right now?”

“Well, as someone once said, I want to give you something that reminds you of me.” Shota holds out his hands, showing off his rings. “Pick one.”

At first, you’re shocked. “Really?” He nods, watching as your eyes scan over his fingers. “This one.” You point. He takes it off and puts it on for you, and it somehow fits just fine. “I feel so cool now! Thank you.”

On the way back to your place, Shota holds onto your hand again, to the point where if he were to let go, you’d feel like you forgot a piece of yourself. “Are you walking back alone?” You ask, looking up at the sky, which painted a pinkish sunset above. “Keeho is gonna meet me here after you go inside.”

“I just don’t want you walking by yourself. It’s a bit scary.”

“I know. But everything is under control, so I’ll be okay.”

When you reach your home, you turn to look at your friend. “Today was fun. I wanna hang out with you like this again.”

“So do I. But I’m… y’know, I’m busy. With a lot.”

“I know you are. I’ll be waiting for you, Shota. I’m always ready.”

“Haku.”

“Huh?”

“My name. My name is Haku.”

“Haku Shota?” You clarify. He nods. “You have such a pretty name.”

“You’re pretty.”

Oops.

He didn’t mean to say that out loud. While he was embarrassed, your heart was racing. Your face was warm, and it matched the sky.

“You’re pretty, Haku. You are… very handsome.”

You understand how he feels now, attempting to return the compliment. “Am I weird for saying that? Because… I really do mean it. I’m just awkward.” You explain. “Not at all. Have I been weird? Calling you pretty…?”

“No! No– you’re, you’re okay. I liked it– I mean, um…” You stutter over your words, cursing at yourself for revealing too much. Haku laughs. “I’ll call you that more if you like it so much.”

“If you want to kill me, go ahead.”

“I thought you said you liked it.”

“I’ll die of a heart attack. I’ll die happy.”

“Soul!” Someone calls. It’s Keeho, waving at him from afar. “Thanks for today. I’m… I really liked spending time with you.” Soul responds with a long, tight hug, the feeling of being in his arms comforting. “I don’t wanna let go.” Soul mutters into your shoulder. “You’re gonna have to at some point.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Shota–“

“I’ll just stay with you so then we can hang out all the time.”

“You know you can’t do that.” You hear him sigh and reluctantly pull away. “Bye, L/N.”

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“It’s Y/N.”

He huffs with a smile. “Bye, Y/N.” He waves as you walk off, walking towards and with Keeho once he sees you let inside your house. “How was it?”

“Really fun. I’m already excited for another one.” Keeho looks at Soul’s hands, noticing one of his fingers bare, a bag in his hand, and his wrist adorned with a new bracelet. He really gave you one of his rings. And you gave him something too.

Though this was your first hang out in a few years, Keeho sensed something unbeknownst to Soul that was bound to bloom at some point. He just didn’t know when.

When they got back to the dorm, Soul went straight to his room and changed, lying down on the bed with your contact open. He changed your name.

L/N Y/N (ㆁωㆁ)

And sent you one last text for the night.

You have a very pretty name (*´꒳`*)

Make that two.

Goodnight (_ _).｡o○

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You find it odd that it took you two years to find out each other’s first names, but life goes on the way it always does.

You also found it odd that you enjoyed talking to Shota so much. You’ve always enjoyed talking to him, you just enjoy it a lot more now. Maybe too much.

You were the first person he texted when he debuted. You were also the first person to see any of his performance videos. One thing stayed consistent throughout:

He was wearing your bracelet.

Sometimes it would be hidden under his sleeve, the strings to tighten it peeking out just a little bit. He really meant it when he said he would never take it off, even if that meant getting into trouble with the stylists.

You were peaking in your career as well. You’d gotten a lot more busy with bookings and shows despite being so young. But despite your schedules, you always found time to talk to each other, like always.

And you even found time to hang out in person a lot more than before.

You started wearing masks in public. Sometimes you got recognized, and so did Shota. Nothing too drastic to the point where paparazzi started following you and taking pictures from the bushes. Shota was still careful, though. A scandal too soon into their debut could wreck him and his group’s career.

As careful as he was, Shota still held onto your hand in public. He was much more nervous now that more people knew who he was, and he always found himself latching onto you. The language barrier slowly began to shrink for him, his Korean improving, but he had a hard time talking to strangers. To his group, he was fine.

He couldn’t stop the uneasy feeling in his stomach the closer they got to the counter. Why was he so nervous? He felt like he couldn’t talk to anyone at all. “Could I get a 2 with onion rings?” You ask, the cashier at the till looking at Shota next. He was frozen in place, staring at her, suddenly squeezing your hand with a tight grip. “And a 5. Large fries.” You order for him, paying and taking the receipt and cups.

Shota sits down at a table by the window, ashamed and embarrassed, guilt overwhelming him. It wasn’t such a big deal, yet he felt like a failure for not being able to do something so simple. “Do you want to share?” He doesn’t respond, staring and spacing out at the table mindlessly.

You sit in the chair across from him, looking around to see if anyone is watching. You place your hand on top of his, rings colliding with each other, which brings him back to reality. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You ask with such genuineness that he feels guilty for even worrying over such a trivial thing.

“Nothing, it’s… it’s stupid. So stupid.”

“I can’t know how stupid it is if you don’t tell me what’s bothering you.”

Shota looks up at you with puppy eyes, breaking eye contact once he begins to speak. “I… um, I froze when we were ordering. You do it for me all the time and I wanted to do it for myself this time but I just couldn’t… talk. I couldn’t speak, I’ve been getting better at talking but I’m still scared to even order my own food– this is so dumb.” He rests his head on the table, messy black hair hiding his face.

Your hand moves from his hand to his head, fingers running through his hair as you caress him. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, Shota. I’m glad you’re trying, you’re having confidence in yourself. It’s good to take it slow sometimes. I’m always here for you, Keeho is always there for you, your group is there for you! There’s always next time, okay? It may seem like a small step to others, but all that matters is how much it means to you. We’re always here for you. No matter if it’s me or anyone from your group.”

When he lifts his head up, your hand naturally moves from his hair down to his face, your thumb resting on his cheek. “Thank you.” The sparkle in his eyes comes back, as he stares at you for a long time, yet you don’t seem to mind and reciprocate it. Noticing how you two probably look to bystanders, you pull your hand away, face warmer than it should be.

“Um, do you just wanna share? I forgot to ask for medium instead of large.” You refer to the cups in your hand, and he nods, watching as you stumble while getting up from the chair and over to the drink fountain. The cup presses against the trigger, watching as the soda fills the cup to the brim.

As you walk back and grab your order, you can’t help but overthink. Why did you do that? It looked so intimate, and if people knew who you were, if people knew who he was… you’d both get in trouble. Shota would get in trouble because of you. You knew him too well to know that he’d take the blame and risk getting kicked out not even a year into their debut.

When you bring the tray to the table, you feel his eyes on you, and your heart had no reason to be beating so fast in the moment. “Are you okay? You look worried.” This time, Shota asks you. Your head perks up at his voice, snapping you out of it. “I’m okay. Let’s just eat.”

Everything goes back to normal in your silly, lighthearted fashion. You’d steal fries off his side, he’d drink from your straw, and you two would just mess around as you always would. No one came up to either of you with your masks off, so you two continued to be yourselves in the moment, with no one staring.

You find beauty in his personality. How you get to see him like this since you two are so comfortable with each other. Is he like this at his dorm? Probably. But is he ever this excited? Maybe not. You get to see him at full energy, unhinged and expressive, a side that the public might not see in him. And you felt so incredibly lucky.

Shota liked the way you stared at him, and the way a smile would creep up on your face. The way you’d hit a table over and over again or clap your hands when you found something funny. The way you’d pick up on his subtle hints and gestures and how you’d always found a way to make him feel better, the way you’d instantly recognize what’s wrong. You were patient with him, and that’s all he’s ever wanted.

He saw Keeho like an older brother; he acted the same way you did, but there was something different about the way you approached things. The way you weren’t afraid to be so physical with him, and how he wouldn’t recoil from your touch. He loved your hugs, and the way you’d bury yourself in him whenever you did.

Soul finds himself thinking of you at the dorms. He always thinks of you, but this was thinking of you at an extreme. You were on his mind 24/7. He’d think of how much fun certain practices would be if you were there. How you’d criticize him for putting the seasoning packets after putting the ramen in the bowl. Sometimes he’d imagine getting surprised by you. What would happen if you walked through the door right now?

You two saw each other’s quirks and you loved them. You saw sides of each other that the public couldn’t, and it made you both feel special. When you felt your heart racing when you thought of him, you couldn’t help but feel full of dread.

When he saw your photos or clips of your shows, he hated that his face went warm when you came on screen. That he was so hyper focused on you and nothing else.

You were smart. Emotionally and academically. You knew what was happening, but didn’t want to accept it. Really, it was process of elimination.

You started to have feelings for your best friend.

And you hated it. You hated it because him being in the industry pretty much means that he can’t date at all. You’d have to live with feelings that would never be reciprocated, and sometimes it hurt whenever you saw his face, especially when he was looking so damn good.

So you always stayed in denial of your feelings. You gaslighted, convinced, manipulated yourself to get over it, but nothing worked. You couldn’t help that your best friend was just that talented and attractive that when he texts you, you feel butterflies in your stomach and a smile grows onto your face.

Soul, however, was much more unaware of it. He never liked anyone. He was left alone with his thoughts for majority of his childhood, and had female friends but no romantic attraction to anyone.

When he finds himself pondering at the kitchen table, spacing out as he tries to figure out his feelings, his older brother figure, Keeho, sits down with him, after noticing Soul leaving the last bit of food in his bowl and just staring blankly. “You okay?” His voice snaps Soul out of it as he nods.

Intak sits down in the other seat with his own bowl, unintentionally now being a part of the conversation. “Something’s on your mind. You can tell me, I won’t judge.” Soul knows Keeho won’t judge. Intak, however…

Soul’s gaze moves from Keeho to Intak. “Intak won’t care. What’s bothering you?”

“What are we talking about?” Intak asks, clueless.

“L/N.”

“What’s up with L/N? Didn’t you just see her last weekend?”

“Is L/N that girl Soul’s friends with? I saw her advertising a brand at a department store the other day.” Intak overhears, pitching into the conversation. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“What’s wrong? Did she insult you or something?”

The more Soul tries to think about it with the words in his head, his heart beats faster and faster that he brings his hand to his chest, feeling the rapid, strong pulse against his palm. How did you manage to make him feel like this? Like he was speechless?

Keeho seemed to notice something, because he moved Soul’s hand and put his own on his chest, feeling how fast it was beating and how powerful it was. “Your face is all red. Are you having a fever?” Intak asks, totally opposite to what Keeho is thinking.

“Oh my god.” He starts, acting overdramatic. “You like her.” When Keeho says it, it makes Soul cringe, and he hates that he came to the same conclusion. “Soul likes who?” Intak is still clueless about the whole situation, probably tired out from practice that day.

“L/N, you idiot, get your head out of the clouds.”

“I like her. A lot.”

“You like her as more than a friend?” Keeho clarifies, Soul nodding. He can see the conflict in his leader’s eyes, a sense of understanding yet a tinge of guilt. “I know we can’t… date. I really want to. She’s the first person who’s ever understood me… ever since I got here.”

His leader sighs. “I think you should tell her. But… be careful. You’re putting a lot of things at risk here.”

“I know I am.”

“Soul’s a pretty quiet person. He should be okay. I mean, as long as none of us ramble about it, we should be fine.” Keeho nods along, his face content. On the inside however, he knows damn well all of them ramble way too much.

And they could ramble about you and Soul.

“Should I text her?”

“Tell her in person. If you really like her, and you really do mean it, you need to tell her the next time you two meet up.”

“But what if I can’t say it?” Keeho is well aware of Soul’s problem with freezing up when talking to others, yet this was something bound to happen, even with you. “She’s patient. She’ll wait as long as she needs to for you to say it. You’ll be okay, Soul. I’m pretty sure she likes you back.”

“She does?”

Keeho scoffs. “Have you seen the way she is around you? Sometimes she stutters over her words when you’re around, she’s always waiting for you, she lets you take her food… there’s a whole list that goes on for a while.”

Soul’s gut feeling was right. He did have a crush on you. A really big one that would only grow if he didn’t do something about it quick.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He arranged to hang out with you the following week. His heart would not stop beating as if it was about to soar right out of his chest. He swore that if you put your thumb on the right spot on his wrist, you’d feel how nervous he was getting as time passed, and he did not want that happening soon enough.

You noticed something else. He seemed a lot more tense, spaced out, and hesitant. To be honest, you were almost the same. You hesitated to hold his hand like you usually did when you walked with him, worried someone would recognize either of you and see what was happening.

Anything simple you’d over-romanticize. He’d block you from the wind. He’d freak out and any display of you and take a picture of it, smiling as he checked them one last time for any retakes. How he’d play with your hand when you two sat together. When you’d share your food.

Everything you did normally was now something you saw as something beyond your friendship. You wanted it to be that way, you really did, but knowing Soul, as clueless as he is, he probably didn’t mean anything at all behind his actions. Everything has just been so normalized between the two of you.

Your heart raced as fast as his. One could say that if you compared both of your pulses, they would sync up, or be extremely close in heart rate. His face had the slightest tinge of pink that you noticed under certain lighting— you didn’t get to look at it long since he didn’t want to call you out for staring.

“I really like your hair colors. They’ve all looked really good on you.” You say, Soul surprised at the sudden compliment. “I’ve only dyed it once or twice…”

“And it looks good. Even your hairstyles! The braids are so cute! If it gets long enough, I should give you pigtails.”

“Long enough that hopefully I don’t get scheduled for a haircut.”

“I’d cry, honestly.”

Shota stops in his tracks in front of your place, the sudden tug on your hand holding you back. “I need to tell you something. It’s been… stuck in my head for a while.” He admits, kicking away a stone at his feet. “What is it?” The look you give him almost makes him back out, but he knew keeping it in for longer would only eat at him. And it wouldn’t be a while until he’d see you again.

“Um, I–“

“Soul!”

Shota turns around at the sound of the voice, Keeho standing at a distance and waving at him. He turns back to face you, taking a deep breath.

“L/N…”

“I like you.”

He notices the shock in your expression, your eyes widening slightly and jaw slightly hanging open.

“I like you a lot.” He continues.

Shota doesn’t know what to make of your blank stare at him, since you do so for longer than you should’ve. “I-I know it’s hard for us to do any relationship related stuff because of our careers. Um, I get if you’re worried about all of this and dating in general but…”

“Shota.” You cut him off, his eyes landing on you. You take both of his hands, thumbs brushing over the metal of his rings. “I want to go out with you.” You say so forwardly that he almost becomes the shocked one. “I really like you. I really do. I… I don’t want your career to be ruined because of me. You worked your ass off for this and God knows how much we’ve been separated because of it.”

You squeeze his hands, looking at how they intertwine. Shota speaks up. “Is it crazy that I like you so much?”

“How much?”

“That I feel like you’re the only one who’ll ever understand me? That you’re the only one I’ve ever had actual genuine feelings for? Am I too young to be thinking about these kinds of things?”

“I ask myself the same questions. Every. Single. Day.”

He giggles, feeling your head lean against him. You look up, chin resting against him with a light in your eyes he hadn’t seen before. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think we’re two teenagers stupidly in love.”

“Soul, hurry up!” Keeho calls.

You can practically hear him roll his eyes the way he scoffs, making you giggle. “Go out with me.” He asks, more of a statement than a request. His chin rested atop your head, his hand rubbing your back with reassurance. “M’kay.” You agree with a smile, voice muffled.

“We’ll keep it a secret.”

“Even from the guys?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Your dad is calling you.” He laughs at your joke, noticing you lost in thought. You pull away a bit, looking at the ground for a moment. In one swift movement, you tiptoe and peck his cheek. “Bye!” You briefly bid, briskly walking away. Shota raises his hand to where you kissed him, almost forgetting in his moment of bliss that Keeho had already called him twice.

The walk back is mostly in silence, Soul doing his best to stop his giddy little smile on his face from growing any more. Keeho didn’t look back at him once.

The sun is fully set by the time they arrive back at the dorms, Keeho entering with an extravagant greeting. “We’re baaack!” He gleefully exclaims. Shuffling can be heard from a distance as the boys begin to take off their shoes. “Soul, how was the–“ Theo starts, being cut off after seeing something on Soul’s face.

When he gets up from kneeling down, Theo notices a light pink mark on Soul’s face, and it for sure was not his blush. “You– She–“

“What’s happening–“ Jiung is equally as shocked as Soul walks into the main space. “Oh my god.” He mutters, hand going to cover his dropped jaw. “She kissed you!” Theo exclaims. Keeho immediately comes running over, grasping Soul’s face and turning it to find the mark. He gasped louder than he should’ve when he found it.

“Just on the cheek.” Soul felt like he had to specify, but the three boys continued to jump around and freak out over the mark. “Cute! Ugh– we need to meet her sometime!” Jiung gushes.

“She just kissed me today and you guys already want to meet her in person?”

They all nod.

“I think you guys would scare her. It’s a bit cramped in here… and we aren’t even allowed to have girls here.”

“Maybe we’ll run into her during a photoshoot! She’s getting pretty famous nowadays.” Jiung adds. “I’ve already met her so many times, just saying. She’s cool.” Keeho bragged before walking into his room.

Intak enters the living space, wondering why Theo and Jiung are crowded around Soul. Keeho goes back out to join them with his empty bottle of water, originally with the task of refilling it. Soul feels a buzz in his pocket, taking it out to see your name on his phone screen.

“She’s calling you!” Jiung gasps, Theo shushing him right after. Soul swipes right to accept the call. “Put her on speaker!” Intak whisper yells, Soul holding out his phone for his group members to huddle around it.

Jongseob comes out of his room, joining the boys even though he had no idea what exactly was going on. “Hello?” Soul greets. “Hi Shota!”

“I thought we just saw each other 20 minutes ago. Do you miss me already?” He jokes, attempting not to stutter over his words. “Oh, we’re speaking in Korean now! I see how it is.” He can hear your sarcasm over the phone, a smile growing on his lips. “What’s up? Did you forget something?”

“My parents kinda caught us outside. When I…”

“Oh. Right.”

“They want you to come over.”

“So soon?” Intak says a little too loud.

“Who was that?”

“No one– just a show in the background.”

“Oh. Well, you’ve met them before. On calls and stuff, they know who you are. You know them, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Because they saw… us… they want to meet you. I told them about how busy you were and your schedule and that it wouldn’t be for a while until you were free again–“

“Y/N.” He cuts you off for a second. “I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

“Really?”

“I want them to know I’m a good person. That I am doing my best for you.” His groupmates gush audibly, and it definitely picks up on the microphone. “You’re going to make me miss you a whole lot more if you keep talking like that.” Soul chuckles. “They’re listening, aren’t they?”

“What?”

“Your group. That did not sound like a TV show in the background.”

They all look at each other, surprised. “Um… maybe?”

“Agh– they heard all of that?! So embarrassing…”

“They wanna meet you too. My group.”

“I thought girls weren’t allowed in your dorms.”

“Outside of the dorms. Possibly in a work environment?”

“That could work! I’m already looking forward to it.”

“They’re all weird.” Soul feels everyone’s eyes on him. “A bit. Just saying.” He hears you giggle on the other end.

“Shota?”

“Mhm?”

“I love you.”

It goes dead silent for a moment, before all the boys erupt into loud cheering and hollering, Soul having to cover his ear to hear you. “Is it too soon for me to say that?” You ask.

“Did you mean it?” He answers with another question, silence on your end for a second.

“I did.”

“Then no. If anything, I think you’re 3 years too late.”

“Have you been waiting that long for me to say it?”

“Mmm, maybe just half a year.”

“Figured.”

“Y/N?” He switches back to Japanese.

“Yes?”

“I love you too.”

Though in another language, the boys can understand the small phrase, their montage of cheers going on for longer than it should have.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As both of you had begun to become more globally renowned, so did your relationship with each other. At first, it was viewed as the two of you being very close friends. After certain interactions and nitpickings, people began to question the nature and status of your relationship.

People noticed the ring on your finger and how it looked exactly like the ones on Soul’s. When the string to tighten his bracelet was visible from under his sleeves, some made connections to learn that it looked like yours. Neither of you took it off, even during work events.

If it couldn’t be on your wrist, you managed to use your bracelet as an anklet. It was more subtle, but you ended up having to send pictures to Shota to show proof you kept it on.

Strings were pulled. Your company met with his, and despite their strict dating laws and restrictions, they managed to work around them. You just hoped they weren’t bribed in any way.

You did end up visiting their dorm a few times after the workarounds, and Shota was always there at the door to be the first person to greet you. His physical touch became more than just holding your hand. He clung onto you; he loved hugs, he loved hugging you.

You loved his hair, playing with it and tying it up into different hairstyles. Pigtails, braids, the occasional half up ponytail. You were always fascinated at the fact every single colour looked so good on him.

The rest of the boys had to get used to your presence. Given you didn’t visit often since Soul would rather visit you, sometimes the sight of you seated with Soul on their couch was a shocker to them. Keeho got used to it the quickest.

From your perspective, you were overall cautious but at the same time didn’t care if any news of the two of you happened to get out. It would be shocking from one end, but it would follow with claims saying that it was bound to happen sometime. Considering how young you were, sometimes you had your doubts. Most of the time you forgot about those doubts.

As for someone like Shota, with his growing popularity and presence in the K-pop industry, he was worried one little leak would cause him to get kicked out of his company. Until paparazzi footage of the two of you, his hands wrapped around your waist to meet in the front as you waited at a bus stop, was posted on a website.

You both panicked. You apologized, he apologized; it was a lot of back and forth. All that came from netizens was the mutual discussion of the chance that you two might be in a relationship. The girl on billboards across Korea going out with a rising star in K-pop? Both of them soon to be international? It was unexpected.

The public was pleasantly surprised. It was a match they hadn’t expected, so much so they decided to try and guess how you two met and how your relationship started. Though you never went deeper than cute photos and interactions that just had to happen in the public eye.

Soul was asked the question a few times.

“Is Y/N a close friend of yours?”

“What’s your relationship with the model?”

The members would either glare at the interviewer or look at Soul worried. He’d always respond with:

“She’s my girlfriend.”

Which pretty much revealed the terms you two were on to every person on the internet.

The boys always took pictures and videos of the two of you as well, if you were ever to end up working together somehow. If you came to the dorm, or if they ran into you two in public. You’re certain Intak and Theo have way too many photos of him falling asleep on you or vice versa.

Soul scrolls on his phone, noticing a few posts of the two of you as he goes deeper down the rabbit hole. As he goes to rewatch his dance practice of the day, he gets a text from you.

Shota

Haku

Haku Shota

Hi （╹◡╹��

I know this is gonna sound like really stupid and crazy and weird

What is it?

Is it okay if I stay at your dorm tonight

Soul looks up from his phone and the condition his shared room is in. It’s decently clean, at least his area is. Theo and Jongseob’s area is debatable.

It’s okay if not! I was just wondering

You can

Just let me ask the guys first

It’s really messy in here

He puts in his phone in his pocket before he’s able to check your next text, reluctantly getting out of bed to go and ask. He opens the door, at first sticking his head out, but then fully shuffling through the door.

“Hey Soul. I thought you were sleeping?” Keeho says, going to sit on the couch. “I need to ask you guys something.”

“What is it?” Intak adds.

“Y/N wants to come over.”

“This late?” Sometimes it surprises him how dense Intak could be sometimes. “She wants to stay over. Sleep.”

The boys all look up and around at the area, noticing the slight mess. Despite you seeing the area in such conditions most of the time when you came over, they suddenly felt obligated to do something rather than have you sleep in an environment with said mess.

“We’ll clean up. Tell her we said yes. Is everything okay?” Keeho said, getting up from the couch.

“We?”

“Get up, Jiung, and let the girl feel welcome.”

“Should I help?”

“Maybe clean our room.” Theo pats Soul on the shoulder, letting him walk back into said room.

Shota???

Are you there?

Pls respond

Sorry

I asked they said yes

I’m already on my way

We’ll talk more when I get there

I’ll text you

He can hear shuffling and commanding outside his room as he tosses the dirty laundry into their basket in the corner of the room, fixing his nightstand and somewhat making his bed since he was gonna lie down in it immediately afterwards.

By the time he gets a text, the room is mostly clean and tidy, prompting him to go and open the door for you. Your eyes meet with his, though they look dull and tired, more than they would be after a day of shoots.

“Hey.” You hide your gaze with the top of your hood. “Hi. Are you okay?”

“Let’s talk about it in your room. Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all. Come in.”

You nearly stumble over your own feet going to take your shoes off, Soul noticing there’s something more going on and it’s not just that you’re exhausted.

Not wanting to be rude, you briefly greet the rest of the boys before swiftly going into Soul’s shared room, Jongseob lying on his bed on his phone and simply acknowledging you when you enter the room, dropping your bag on the floor and plopping yourself on Soul’s bed. He sits next to you, your face covered by your hood.

He gently takes it off in case you’d stop him at the motion, seeing those dull eyes of yours, a bit pink and swollen. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright?” He softly asks, holding your hands in the same manner as his voice. “I’m having a few problems at home. Nothing with my parents. Extended family.”

“What happened?”

“My parents are having some maintenance and small renovations done on our house, so we’re staying in an extra room at my grandma’s for a little bit. My aunt lives in the other room.”

You inhale, trying to grasp onto your words.

“Um, my aunt is being,” you start, “being a real bitch. I know I can’t say that and it’s rude to even think so but God knows everyone in that room was pissed at her. She insulted my mom and her decision to move here and put me through modelling at such a young age.”

“She called me a wannabe, and that I wasn’t gonna get anywhere in life just posing for the camera. Called me a slut for allowing to be in shoots where I show a lot of skin when really it’s usually just a tank top and a skirt.”

“She said she felt bad for whoever I was dating that they had to be with a girl who loves showing herself off to the general public. Said I was practically naked if I showed too much skin.”

“So I don’t feel safe or comfortable in that house right now, and my parents were nice enough to let me stay someplace else. They agreed when I told them about you.”

Soul sat there, a silent rage burning through his veins. You had a completely valid reason to address her with such vulgarity. He couldn’t offer any advice in the moment, all that he could do was hug you.

“No wonder she still lives with your grandma.” He mutters into your shoulder, your hand hitting his back hard as you chuckle. “You can’t say that, Shota!”

“Who’s stopping me? I know you want to say it too.”

“Shota…”

“Fine. Only because you don’t want me to. Still, I’m sorry you had to go through all that. Stay as long as you need to.” Soul’s eyes meet with Jongseob’s, their stares translating into sentences.

‘As long as she needs to?’

‘Just let her. Please.’

‘Don’t ask me, ask Keeho.’

Shota rolls his eyes at his roommate, attention back on you. “I’m gonna go change now.” You say, pulling away. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

“Um, I was thinking we could share your bed. But I can always take the couch if you don’t want to–“

“Share. Yeah– yeah, we can share.”

You smile, kissing his forehead before you leave the room. Jongseob’s eyes are on Soul the minute the door shuts. “What did she say?” He meant to ask: ‘What did she say to make her kiss you in front of me?’

“She wants to share my bed.”

“You look really nervous.”

“I’m not nervous, just surprised. And I’ve… obviously never shared it before.”

“Just sleep normally, Soul. What’s so hard about that?”

“Do I snore?”

“You don’t. Theo does. Maybe get her some earplugs.”

“I don’t have any.” His roommate shrugs his shoulders.

“Jongseob…”

“Fine.” He tosses Soul a clean, unopened pair of foam earplugs. “Are you actually that nervous?”

Soul’s ashamed to admit it. “We’re close, but we haven’t been this close before. Not at all. I have no idea if I kick in my sleep– what if I kick her?”

“You kick like once or twice but not every other second. Besides, if L/N says she’s in love with you, she’s gotta be in love with everything about you. Including your sleeping habits. She’d love you regardless of what you do in your sleep.”

You come back in sweats and a loose shirt, going to lay on the bed while Shota sat on the edge. You place your hand on top of his, prompting him to turn around and look at you. “Are you that tired?”

“Korean all of a sudden?”

“I’m getting better, aren’t I?”

“By the day, Shota.”

“To answer your question, since I was crying for 10 minutes at home, yes, I’m tired. Are you gonna just gonna sit there or are you gonna get some rest?” Soul simply responds moving you over on the bed so he can sleep on the side closest to the wall. You turn to face him, all flushed and doe eyed. “Am I too close?” Your head rests against his chest and atop his arm, probably the definition of close.

“No.”

“I can always move if–“

“Just stay here. You’ve had a rough day.”

His other arm wraps around you, his hand on your back and pushing you closer to him. “Do you think we’re too young to be this in love?” You feel his head move. “What do you mean?”

“That we aren’t old enough to make bigger decisions for ourselves? This… this is a big thing. People say that we’re really young to already be dating, and I always shrug it off, but it’s bothering me. What if they’re right?”

“Are you doubting us?”

“I’m not, I’m really not! People are just overlooking what’s going on between us and they’re making assumptions and–“

“This relationship is only between us and no one else. We don’t need to worry about what others think. We only need to worry about each other.”

“You’re getting good at switching languages smoothly.” You say, trying to sneak a bit of humor in there. “I learn from the best.” His hand once on your back now moved to your head, stroking it smoothly. “I’m really grateful for you, actually. I hope you know that.” His words melt your heart as they always do, but somehow you find them more meaningful.

“When you first helped me here. When you offered to keep in touch and look where that brought us. When you don’t get bothered every time I ask you how to say something in Korean. And you still like being with me even though sometimes I can be a bit…”

“Bothersome?”

“I was thinking annoying, but what you said sounds nicer.”

“Shota, I never thought of you as annoying. You’re teaching yourself with the help of your group getting around and the culture and its differences.”

“How did you get used to it so quickly?”

“I didn’t. I’ve been here so many times to visit but living here? Oh, it was a culture shock to me.”

“So I’m really not alone in this?”

“You were never alone, Haku.”

You called him by his first name.

Your eyes meet at your mention of it, Shota looking at you with such a pure, joy filled gaze that was silent behind his irises. It was moments like this where you got to admire his beauty, how pretty he was, his features and how they worked so well together.

You’re drawn to him. So much so that you end up giving him a soft, gentle kiss on the lips.

As much as it was a moment of euphoria, the moment you pulled away, you immediately got flustered and embarrassed, turning around since you weren’t able to face him. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have–“ And seeing Jongseob on the other bed? He heard a lot and probably saw a lot which made the whole thing more embarrassing for you.

You kick your feet slightly, hiding your face in your hands and just then feeling how hot your it was in the moment. Suddenly, you feel his arms wrap around your waist like they did in the photos of you two at that bus stop, bringing you closer into him. “I liked it. It was my first.” He mutters, voice slightly muffled.

“It was my first too.” You reply, hands off your face and turning around to bury it in his shoulder, still embarrassed to face him. You wrap an arm around him as to hug him loosely. “I love you, Haku.” You raise your head to bump your nose against his. He giggles, hugging you tighter.

“I love you more, Y/N.”

“Even more than your games?”

“More than my games and my rings. Get some rest now.”

You want to kiss him again in that moment, but he does it for you. Short and chaste, your lips meet long enough to feel each other’s connection, but short enough that it doesn’t escalate.

“At this point, can you two just sleep already? I’d rather you hug and spoon than hear you kiss all evening.” Jongseob sneers, almost forgetting he was even in the room. Soul feels you giggle into his shoulder, having you so close being the least of his worries. In fact, it was something he cherished.

Soul never let you out of his hold, and you never let him out of his.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

☀️: guys look at this

☀️: [Two images attached]

🐿️: OMG

🐿️: THEY’RE SO CUTE

🐿️: THEY’RE LIKE CUDDLING AIDHSIDNW

🐿️: IM SAVING THESE THANK YOU VERY MUCH

🐺: theo why are you taking pictures of them while they’re sleeping 🤨

🐺: that’s a little bit weird

☀️: ok but they’re cute

☀️: you’d do it too

🐺: tbh i would

🐯: they kissed

🐺: HUHH???

🐿️: SJAODJEBDIEBDK

🐶: wait actually

🐿️: where did you come from

🐶: i was disinterested until i saw jongseob’s text

🐺: are we talking like a kiss on the cheek or forehead cuz they do that a lot

🐯: lips

🐿️: OH MY GOD WHAT

🐺: WAIT ACTUALLY

🐺: SOUL GOT HIS FIRST KISS

🐶: keeho u probably havent kissed anyone why r u talking

🐺: shut up

☀️: yeah i walked in on them

🐯: they didnt make out or anything tho i think they’re both disgusted by the idea of it

🐺: thank god

🐶: you actually thought they were gonna make out or something just from the word ‘kiss’??

🐺: hey you can never be too careful

🐿️: i understood half of what they were saying until they switched back to japanese ugh i could hear them through the wall

🐯: are the walls actually that thin

🐿️: i hear you scream at your phone every time u watch something scary

🐯: okay anyways they were probably flirting with each other

🐯: i was literally there the whole time

🍟: (*^◯^*)

🐶: oh shit

🐺: morning soul!!

🐿️: why aren’t you just talking to each other instead of texting in the group chat you literally share a room

🍟: y/n is sleeping (( _ _ ))..zzzZZ

☀️: she actually is do u guys want proof

🐺: stop taking pictures of people in their sleep theo ur weird for that

🍟: [One image attached]

☀️: and when soul does it ur not gonna say anything

🐺: soul dont do that but yall r cute okay

☀️: this is so unfair

🐯: i have a picture of him taking that picture

🐺: what

🐶: this is so confusing

🐯: [One image attached]

🐿️: trippy @—@

🐺: soul how is she not waking up while you’re texting us

🍟: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

🍟: she is so pretty (//∇//)

🐿️: UGH EILFIWRNOAN

🐶: you are so down bad its crazy

🐺: jiung is literally squealing into his pillow rn

🐯: yeah we can hear

☀️: fr tho u guys r cute

🐶: soul pulls

🍟: (・・?)

🐺: it’s okay soul you’ll figure out what that means eventually

☀️: just tell him what’s stopping you

🐺: he spends a lot of time on the internet he’ll see it one way or another

🍟: jongseob i never gave her the earplugs u can have them back

🐶: is it cuz theo snores cuz honestly thats understandable

☀️: i do not snore that loud okay

🐯: my bed is right next to yours so that makes it 10 times louder

🐯: also just leave them on the nightstand soul ill take them back thanks

🐺: is someone gonna get up or are we just gonna keep texting here

☀️: soul would but he’s too busy holding his gf rn

🐯: do u guys want more photos

🐿️: yes

🐺: jongseob and theo you two need to stop taking pictures of y/n while she’s sleeping she’s gonna think you guys are creepy

☀️: you never said no

🐺: and i never said yes

🐯: soul is shielding her face in some of them tho at least its covered

🐿️: just send them

🍟: you can send them jongseob (^^)

🐯: see even soul says we can

🍟: wanna show how pretty y/n is

🐿️: oh my god you guys are so dsibwsidhsi

🐺: jiung is freaking out

🐶: soul i think u killed him

☀️: breaking up at this point would just end the world

☀️: treat her well soul

🐶: yeah you’ve got a good one

🍟: im too in love to let go (*´∀｀*)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

and i am but a man, orbiting ‘round your sun. and it’s you that makes my day, after day. 🎧

#soul p1harmony #p1harmony #p1h soul #p1harmony imagines #haku shota #soul x reader #fanfiction #p1h imagines #p1h intak #p1h jiung #p1h jongseob #p1h keeho #p1h theo #p1harmony x reader #p1harmony x you

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pearbunny · 11 months

Text

the bucket list ✘ [one]

series masterlist | prev | next [ ❀ spotify playlist ]

summary: Fly to Korea. Check. Buy a bouquet of flowers for a stranger. Check. Have said stranger come along with you to accomplish your bucket list? Well that wasn’t on the list, but falling in love was.

pairing: han jisung x afab!reader

genre: 18+ [MDNI] strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, later chapters to include: angst, comfort, smut.

general warnings: tourist!mc, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, nudity, cursing, mentions of death in later chapters, eventual smut.

word count: ~3.6k

chapter content: mentions of food, excessive lip biting as a nervous habit, cafe employee!seungmin, stranger danger tbh don’t be like o/c, Lee Know mentioned, but not present.

author’s note: I've never written for stray kids and most of what i write is typically on the sadder side so fluff isn't my strongest point but i've had this in my head for awhile. feedback, reblogs, likes, v much appreciated. :) updates will be sporadic, but i'm aiming for once every two weeks.

You shield your eyes from the beating sun above, pupils unadjusted from being on a plane for the past 12 plus hours with the window shut. You let go of the suitcase you had been dragging along behind you to fish your phone out of your back pocket. Humming to yourself, you check the map, trying to find your way to Seoul. “Ah!” You say into the air, which grants you a couple of curious and annoyed stares. You duck your head in an attempt to be unseen, embarrassed by the attention. You make your way to the train station and purchase a ticket. It doesn’t take long for the train to arrive, and soon you’re sitting with your backpack in your lap and your suitcase between your legs.

According to the tourist guide you had pulled up on your phone, the train ride would take around 40 minutes. In the meantime, you rummage through your backpack to look for an old loosely bound book. You find it after digging past your makeup bag and some snacks you had saved from the flight. With a hum, you search through the pages, and after some flipping, you land on the correct one. Your index finger traces down a list, and randomly you stop it. “Buy a bouquet for a stranger.”

You chew on your lip, a habit you picked up whenever you found yourself feeling uneasy. You may not bethe most outgoing person, but you aren't completely against socializing.

It’s just … going up to a stranger in a town– let alone country– you’ve never been in was 1000% terrifying.

Before you know it, the intercom announces your stop and you're scrambling to gather your belongings. You make your way out of the station and suddenly, you hold your breath in awe at the scene in front of you. There were so many people, walking in every direction. You hear little tidbits of their conversations: where they were planning to go for lunch, the new restaurant that opened up in Itaewon, what someone’s boyfriend had given them for their 100 days. The sounds of a city fill your ears.

If you're being honest, it was a little overwhelming. For a moment, you have doubts of why you had gotten on that plane. You shut your eyes and count down from 7. There, your breathing is even, your head’s a little clearer, and you realize that you had a goal to accomplish. You couldn't back out now, you refuse to be stuck in your old ways.

‘Flowers first,’ you think to yourself.

After a couple of blocks of lugging your suitcase behind you, you find a quaint little flower stand. A young woman and what seem to be her grandfather were the owners of the stall. You stand there, staring at all the options. The young woman approaches you, her hands placed inside the pockets of her green apron, “Hi, do you need help picking something out?”

“Hi, yes!” you quickly blurt out. “I just wanted a bouquet that would make someone’s day.” You give the woman a meek smile. You recognize the characters on her apron to read Minji.

“Is this for anyone special? Your mom, maybe?” She starts to pull at a couple of arrangements, one bouquet made of mostly carnations.

You shake your head, “No…” You hesitate as you wondered to yourself, ‘Do I tell her it’s for someone I don’t even know?’ You chuckle at the thought absentmindedly.

Minji takes that to mean something else, “A boy perhaps then?” There's something a little suggestive in her tone, complemented by the raise of her brow in your direction.

“Oh, no no!” You shake your head for emphasis, furiously denying it. “Absolutely nothing like that.” You find yourself laughing at the predicament. “I’m actually going to give the flowers to a stranger.”

“Oh–” Minji looks pleasantly surprised, “That’s very kind of you. I have just the thing then.”

You stay in place while Minji goes to the other side of the flower stall to wrap up the bouquet she hand picked. Soon, she comes back and you make an expression of gratitude. “Minji, you really didn’t have to do that! I could have just gotten one of the premade ones.” You pout, looking through the flowers as you take the bouquet from her. It was very simple, three medium sunflowers, some Queen Anne’s lace, and a few branches of baby blue eucalyptus.

“No, don’t worry about it. What was your name again?”

“Y/N”, You give her the appropriate amount of money.

“Well, Y/N, I hope you brighten someone’s day!” Minji smiles at you and bids you farewell as you turn and leave.

“Now who do I give this to?” You hold the bouquet in one hand while you pull your luggage, the sound of its wheels on the concrete trailing behind you.

You stop at an intersection, scanning the crowd for someone that seems approachable. Will it be the middle aged woman holding the hand of a small boy while they cross the street? Maybe it would be the man in a suit that was on the phone, oh he was looking in your direction. He glared at you.

Okay, so not that guy.

You were about to give up until you spot a young man, about your age give or take a few, walking in your direction. He was still crossing the street, but he had a certain pep to his step, like he was listening to a really good song in his headphones– which given the fact that he did have headphones on, he probably was. He seems approachable, even down to his outfit: white tee loosely tucked into black jeans a black belt to match his shoes, and gold metal thinly rimmed glasses.

“Um, excuse me!” You step towards him, holding the bouquet of flowers to your chest at first.

“Yes?” The man stops in front of you and stretches one side of his headphones away from his ear to hear you better.

“These are for you.” You extend the sunflowers towards him.

He looks around, a bit confused, then takes his headphones off fully, letting them hang around his neck. He takes a step towards the side, which you follow, so you’re out of the way of the traffic of people. “F-For me?!” He seems surprised. You can't blame him, you’re a total stranger. He gestures to himself, placing his palm on his chest. “I think you have the wrong guy!”

You shake your head, the corners of your lips turn up in a slight smile, mostly out of embarrassment. “No, definitely for you”.

The stranger takes the bouquet in his hand, examining it. “Who put you up to this? Was it Lee Know Hyung?” He looked back at you, raising a brow.

“I don’t even know who that is, I promise they’re for you!”

You notice his shoulders relaxing and he pinches at one of the blue eucalyptus leaves, feeling its texture. “But… why?”

You also relax and release the breath inside your lungs you didn’t know you were holding. He seems to at least be open to accepting the gift now. “It’s just something I wanted to cross off my bucket list: give a bouquet of flowers to a stranger.” You smile up at him and you hope that the man in front of you can sense how sincere you are and didn’t think you were an absolute lunatic.

“Well, thanks.” He slowly starts to smile and suddenly his eyes notice your bag and your suitcase. “Oh, are you visiting?”

You nod your head yes, “I am! I’m actually here because visiting Korea is also on my bucket list!”

His eyes grow wide, surprised by your seemingly adventurous personality. “You must have come a long way then, your accent is definitely not from around here.” He motions over to a bench a short walk away and the both of you make your way there.

“I will take that as a compliment.” Momentarily, you check your phone for the time. He must have noticed you doing so, because he motions to get up.

“Oh no, did I keep you?”

“Not at all, I’m just realizing what time it is back home.”

“Oh, you must be jet lagged, do you need help getting to your hotel?”

“I don’t have to check in until later,” you lie. You don't even have a hotel yet.

Oops.

"Well, in that case...." He seems nervous as he stands up, very subtly back and forth on the tips of his toes to the back of his heels. If that isn't enough, he rubs the back of his neck before he clears his throat and looks down at your sitting form. You look up at him as if you hadn’t been watching him the entire time. “Is grabbing coffee with a stranger on your bucket list too, then?”

You can't help but smile, a smile that pulled at your lips wide enough that it made the corner of your eyes crinkle. “It’s not, but I’m sure I could add it in.”

“Great, then I’ll make sure it’s an extra good café with instagrammable latte art!” He extends out his hand to help you up.

Once you stand up, you reach for your suitcase, but he beats you to it. Instead, he places the bouquet of flowers into your hands. “You carry that, and I’ll take these.” He slings your backpack over his shoulder.

“No, please let me. It’s really no problem for me!” You hold the bouquet of flowers to him, as if it's a trade off.

“It might be no problem for you, but what about me? You’re gonna slow us down carrying these things and the café spot gets busy in the afternoon!” He starts to walk away, looking back at you with a smirk after a couple of large strides.

Well, at least the stranger you picked had a sense of humor and wasn’t some asshole who would have rejected the flowers. Snapping out of your thoughts, you realize he really isn't going to wait for you and hurry after him.

The stranger— you still don't know his name, by the way; you've had no opportunity to ask—wasn’t kidding when he said that the café got busy. You were both lucky to grab a table on the outside of the establishment all thanks to your hovering and his remarkably subtle ability to place your suitcase in the way of other hopeful individuals looking for a seat.

Your eyes wander around the place, looking for a waiter or waitress to come and take your order. You desperately don't want to be the one to start conversation. You feel a little awkward sitting down with a guy you just met.

“I’m Han Jisung, by the way.” His voice cuts through the clinking of mugs, the soft hum of the people waiting for a table, and the occasional sound of the cars driving past.

You bring your eyes back to him, a little caught off guard. He smiles in a way that shows the gums and it's kind of cute, while his eyes crinkle into half crescents. You can't help but smile right back at him. “I’m Y/N.”

Jisung leans forward, into the table with his arms crossed. “So, what brings you to Korea, Y/N?”

You reach for the old beaten notebook in your bag and place it on the table. “I have this bucket list,” you open the pages and start flipping through it. There were a bunch of pages with cursive scrawls in paragraphs, some doodles, and eventually you stop on the page with the bucket list on it. “Just a bunch of things I wanna do before I die…” You give him a lopsided smile.

Jisung’s eyes look through the list, then he point at one half way down the page. “Well, you can now cross going to Korea off. “ His index finger drags across the page at another item, “And the bouquet one.”

“You’re right, thanks.” You take a pen from the front pouch of your backpack and cross those off.

“How long is your visit?”

You peer up at him, chewing on your bottom lip. He has an innocently curious expression on his face and you can't help but thank whoever's in charge of fate. Jisung is nice and welcoming, which is just what you need in a country you had never been to before. “About two weeks.”

“Do you plan on doing more of those here?”

You nod with a smile. “I do! As many as I can anyway.” Talking to him isn't as awkward as you think it would be. He's definitely to thank for carrying the conversation so naturally.

“Hi can I take yo—“ a young man, probably around Jisung’s age comes to your table with a small notepad in hand. He has medium brown hair pushed back, a wide smile, and kind eyes. He's wearing a pair of khaki slacks and a nicely pressed dress shirt underneath his navy blue apron. “Oh, Hannie! Hey!”

Jisung stands and pulls the newcomer into a short hug. “Seungmin!” Jisung motions to you at the table. “This is Y/N. A new friend of mine.”

You smile at Seungmin and stand, bowing your head slightly. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

Seungmin motions for you both to sit back down after introductions. “Ah, order whatever you guys want, it’s on the house! I hope you guys didn’t wait too long for a table.”

Jisung shook his head, sitting back down only after you did. “It didn’t take too long, but this place is crowded! You guys must be doing really well lately.”

Seungmin nodded with a sort of crooked grin, “Yeah, well ever since those KPOP idols were seen here, this place has been swamped.” He raised his brows up and down mischievously, looking at the both of you together. “We’re looking for help!”

Jisung scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. “No thanks. Y/N is just visiting.” He leaned closer to you, as if the next part was only meant to be heard by you, though he was definitely talking loud enough for Seungmin to hear. “Besides, the last time I helped out he yelled at me for eating a pastry.”

Seungmin playfully hit Jisung’s arm with his notepad. “It wasn’t a pastry, it was your seventh one of the day.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, what will you be ordering?”

You looked around, unsure of what was good there. You wanted to get an idea from what others had ordered around you. Everyone seemed to have an iced drink… and they were all really dark coffees “A vanilla iced latte?” Your sweet tooth would never let you have coffee without some kind of creamer in it.

Seungmin nodded and scribbled it down. Then, without looking at Jisung, he said, “Americano, iced. And a slice of cheesecake.”

Jisung feigned a look of offense. “Am I that predictable?”

Seungmin laughed. “Honestly, no. But your orders are.” Seungmin placed his notepad in his apron pocket and went back into the cafe to fetch your orders.

“Ah, that was Seungmin. He and I go way back. Now he helps run this place!”

“That must be difficult, but this place looks great.”

“Yea, he’s always been a caffeine addict. One day, he decided that if he was going to be making coffee everyday, he might as well make money off of it.” Jisung chuckled to himself, then glanced your way from across the table. “Are you staying close by? I could walk you to your hotel after If you’d like”

You laughed nervously, avoiding eye contact, “Well.. actually…” your voice trailed off, catching a glimpse at his expression before spitting it out, “I don’t have one… yet.”

“You don’t have one?!” He had raised his voice slightly, startling a couple of people at nearby tables.

“Yet! I said yet!” You nervously played with the pen in your hands.

“You came to Korea without a place to stay!?”

“I literally bought my tickets two hours before the flight took off!”

Seungmin came back with your orders, just in time to catch the last bit of your conversation. His eyes widened in shock.

“TWO HOURS?” Both Jisung and Seungmin echoed you simultaneously.

You grabbed your iced vanilla latte and started chewing on the straw. “I mean… it probably sounds a lot worse than it is...”

Seungmin bent down at his knees to rest his arms on the table, head tilted. In that position, he really reminded you of a puppy. “Are you rich?”

“Umm, definitely not." You placed your free drink on the table and chuckled at the thought.

Jisung raised a brow in your direction, “So you’re broke.”

You grabbed your phone and checked your bank app. There was a silence that passed, the boys watching you carefully. You exhaled slowly and put your phone on the table, screen down. “Not like broke broke.”

Seungmin stood back up and forcefully put his hands on Jisung’s shoulders from behind him, giving them a squeeze for emphasis, “Well it’s a good thing that Hannie has a spare room, yea?”

The two of you exchanged looks until he finally said something, “I mean… Yeah… I guess I do.”

Jisung shot Seungmin a glare as he went back into the cafe then looked back you. You were still staring at him blankly, not saying a word. You were going through the logistics of it all in your head. It would be a free place to stay, but he was a complete stranger. This whole thing was a spontaneous trip, it was supposed to be a way for to come out of your comfortable way of living. You had been complacent, and quite honestly, staying in one place wasn’t going to help your mental health. But neither was staying with a stranger.

“It’s not like I’m an ax murderer or anything.”

Your silence was met with Jisung shrugging and grabbing his pastry off the plate in front of him. He broke it up into smaller pieces before stuffing it into his cheeks. He looked a little silly, reminding you of a squirrel with puffed up cheeks. “Or you can find a hotel room with all the money you still have saved up.”

You were quickly reminded of the lack of money in your bank account. “Okay yea,” you mumbled under your breath, “lead the way.”

Jisung gave you a short tour of his place. It was on the seventh floor, two bedrooms, one bathroom. A small kitchen with an equally as small island, enough for two people to eat at. He had a black couch facing a TV that was hooked up to a play station, probably the newest one.

You came out of the bathroom after showering in an over sized gray shirt and navy blue shorts underneath. You were towel drying your hair when you noticed he was at the sink. You sat at the island, his back to you. “Thanks for letting me stay with you.”

He seemed busy with something, but he looked over his shoulder at you. “Yea, no problem. Don’t worry about it.”

Seeing as he was a bit busy, you went into the spare room you were staying in and grabbed your notebook. You decided to bring it back to the island; if you were going to stay with Jisung for at least a couple of days, you were going to get to know him. He definitely seemed and had proven himself nice enough.

“Is that the list again?” Jisung asked you when you sat back down, still focused on whatever it was he was doing.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Cool!” He threw something away in the trash under the sink. Whatever it was he was working on, he placed it in the counter next to the sink.

“What kind of stuff do you think you could cross off?” He turned around and leaned on the island across from you. His head tilted, curious as he looked at you with warm round brown eyes.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. “Let’s see.” You opened up to the page, looking over the list and reading off a few at random.

“Paint a portrait. Sing at a karaoke bar. Fall asleep under the stars. Watch the sun rise—“

“Those are easy! You traveled all the way to korea for that? Where are the fun spontaneous ones?”

You sighed and ran your hands down your face. “I have those too, but they’re embarrassing!”

“Try me.”

You held your head in your hands, looking down at the book to avoid looking at him. “Crash a wedding.”

“Ooo that sounds fun. What else you got?”

“I booked a flight to Korea in two hours isn't that spontaneous enough?!”

He shook his head, still smiling.

You looked back down. “Goskinnydipping...” You mumbled very quietly and quickly, then cleared your throat trying to glaze over that bit, hoping he didn’t hear. When he didn't react, you continued. “Get a tattoo.” Slowly, you looked at him through your damp hair that fell over your eyes.

“Okay. Let’s do it.” He smiled at you, mischievous one.

“Get a tattoo?” You panicked and you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. Had he heard you?

“Let’s accomplish as many things on your list as we can while you’re here.”

You looked at him with a brow raised. You didn’t even know what to say. “Like… together?”

Jisung nodded simply. “Yes. Together. Why not?”

“More like why? Why would you do that with someone you just met?”

He mimicked your raised brow, but the smirk remained. “You bought me flowers, remember? We’re basically dating now.”

Huh? He was joking, right?

“Just kidding. But come on, think about it! It’ll be fun! Plus… do you know how to get around Seoul?”

Again, he had a point.

You bit your lower lip and scanned the room trying to avoid eye contact. It was then you noticed that the thing he was working on was the bouquet of flowers that you bought, stems cut and placed in a tall glass.

You smiled and finally nodded, “Okay.”

“Okay?” He looked at you with wide eyes, smirk growing into a smile, excited that you had agreed.

“Yea. Let’s do this.”

author's notes: if for whatever you want to be added to a taglist, let me know :)

taglist

@burningchaosdeer

#han jisung x reader #skz x reader #han jisung fanfic #han jisung #stray kids x reader #jisung fic #jisung fluff #skz fanfic #jisung smut #han jisung smut #han jisung series #jisung series

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bradshawsbaby · 1 year

Text

love in the air at the county fair

pairing: rhett abbott x childhood friend->girlfriend!reader

author’s note: wrote this one based on this anonymous prompt. it’s also a continuation of to the nines!

special thanks to @luminousnotmatter, @whisperofsong, and @therebeccaw for giving me such confidence to continue writing these rhett stories! ♥️

warnings: very brief allusion to underage drinking, lots of fluffy fluff

You had been going to the Amelia County Fair practically your entire life. Maybe it actually had been your entire life, considering your mama was pregnant with you the year your daddy won a blue ribbon in the pie-eating contest.

You’d been going to the fair with Rhett Abbott for nearly as long—from the time you were babies, and your mothers would plop you in the wagon together, all the way through high school, when you and Rhett and the rest of your friends would sneak off drinking where you thought no one would catch you. Even now that you were both adults, you and Rhett always went to the fair together, usually so you could cheer him on at the rodeo.

But this year was different.

This fair was different.

Because this year, you and Rhett weren’t going to the fair as friends. No, he’d made that perfectly clear when he asked you at your college roommate’s wedding.

This year, for the first time ever, it was a date.

This year, instead of breezy banter and an easy sense of familiarity borne of years by each other’s sides, there were shy glances and rosy cheeks and nervous laughter. Instead of friendly nudges and hugs and pats on the back, there were tentative brushes of fingers and arms, thighs just barely touching as you sat beside one another on a ride, skin skimming against skin and causing a burst of goosebumps to rise even in the middle of the August heat.

You had never been so damn nervous in your entire life.

Your parents had been teasing you all morning about your “big date with the Abbott boy.” Your poor mama had even gotten caught in the crosshairs of the tornado that was you trying to decide on an outfit for the fair.

In the past, you’d always kept it simple with a pair of jeans and a tank top. But this was a date. A date with Rhett. You had to wear something nice. But what if it was too nice? Would Rhett think you were trying too hard? Oh, but he wouldn’t think that, right? He was the one who had asked you out. Obviously he liked you just as much as you liked him. Right?

In the end, you decided on a pretty blue sundress that you most definitely hadn’t purchased just because it had reminded you of the color of Rhett’s eyes. With that and a pair of cowboy boots, you figured you were sufficiently dressed for the occasion.

Rhett seemed to think so anyway.

When you opened your front door to find him standing on the porch with a small bouquet of daisies in hand, his eyes, which paired so perfectly with your dress, widened a fraction as he gazed from your head down to your toes.

“Wow,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand as he continued to clutch the flowers with the other. “You look…wow.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm as you smiled, heart hammering as you suddenly realized you had no idea what to do with your arms. “You look pretty wow yourself,” you told him, glancing appreciatively at the figure he cut in his cowboy hat, jeans, boots, and a button down shirt you had a sneaking suspicion Cecilia had ironed for him.

Rhett opened his mouth as if to say something, then suddenly thrust the bouquet of daisies at you. “For you,” he stammered, his cheeks turning a shade of pink you found particularly endearing.

“Thanks, Rhett,” you grinned, accepting them gratefully and pressing them to your nose. “They’re beautiful.”

Rhett came inside for a moment so you could put the flowers in some water, talking respectfully to your parents in the kitchen. He’d known your mama and daddy his whole life, just as you had known his, but you sensed a new formality in his tone, especially when he was talking to your father, that made you smile to yourself.

By the time you were finally sitting in the passenger seat of Rhett’s truck, trundling down the stretch of road that led to the county fair, you were feeling mildly anxious, but also excited about what the day would hold.

You always had a good time whenever you were with Rhett, but he went out of his way on this day to make you feel particularly special. From taking you to see the baby lambs that he knew you loved to coo over, to ordering you your favorite ice cream with extra sprinkles, just the way you liked it, to winning you a sweet little teddy bear at the shooting range, you could tell he was doing everything in his power to make sure you had a great day.

“Are you having fun?” he asked on more than one occasion. Knowing him as long and as well as you did, you could sense the small thread of anxiety in his voice.

“Rhett, I’m having a terrific time,” you assured him, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

The day was a blur of absolute wonder. You could remember blushing when Rhett put his arm around you on the Ferris wheel, certain that he would be able to feel your heart pounding like wild horses in your chest as you leaned against him. You recalled feeling like a silly schoolgirl when your fingers brushed against one another’s in your bucket of kettle corn, the two of you laughing in shy embarrassment. You were certain that the hours had passed more like minutes as you and Rhett sat together in an open field, talking about anything and everything.

Now evening had fallen, and you and Rhett were strolling away from the crowd, in the direction of the bullpen for the rodeo where Rhett would be riding tomorrow. As you walked, your teddy bear tucked securely under one arm, your free hand lightly brushed against Rhett’s calloused fingers. You bit your lip, hoping he would take the hint, and sure enough, you were rewarded with the feel of his large, warm fingers closing over yours.

Neither of you said anything as you walked hand in hand, Rhett’s thumb lightly caressing your skin.

When you finally came to a stop near the ring, you glanced upward and found Rhett’s blue eyes already fixed on you. Your heart jumped into your throat instantly. Rhett’s gaze was focused, intense. Kind of like when he was riding. But then and there, in that moment, all his focus was directed at you.

“You gonna come watch me ride tomorrow?” he asked, his voice low and rumbling in his chest.

“Of course,” you nodded, squeezing his hand gently. “Have I ever missed you ride?” you teased.

His expression was serious as he continued to look into your eyes. “No, never. You’re always there,” he said quietly. “You’re always there for me.”

“And I always will be,” you told him, your pulse quickening in your veins and your palms suddenly growing slick. You hoped Rhett didn’t notice.

Rhett breathed out your name in a way that had your knees turning to pudding, your lips parting slightly as your breathing became more uneven. His hand was suddenly on your waist, guiding you so that your back was pressed against the iron railings of the fence. His eyes had never left your face, not once.

“Rhett,” you whispered in response, the word like a desperate plea and an invitation all in one.

Tipping his hat back, Rhett leaned in close, his lips hovering above yours for just a moment as he looked into your eyes to gauge your reaction. He must have seen the go-ahead shining there, because in an instant, his mouth was descending upon yours.

Your first kiss with Rhett Abbott was everything you could have hoped for and more.

It started out slow and sweet, tender as your lips moved together in tandem, gently tasting each other and growing accustomed to the other’s needs. And then it was like a coil suddenly snapped free, and Rhett’s hands were buried in your hair while yours were grasping desperately at his back, your poor teddy bear lying forgotten in the dust. The kiss that had once been sweet and gentle now seared your lips with its intensity, Rhett’s teeth nipping lightly at your bottom lip as you moaned softly into his mouth.

When the two of you finally broke apart, desperate for air, Rhett was panting and your lips were swollen and red.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, resting his forehead against yours as he reached up to cup your cheek. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” The endearment fell off his lips so easily, and it warmed you to your core. “Got a bit carried away,” he chuckled, pressing a soft peck to your upper lip.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath yourself.

“Been wanting to do that for a long time,” Rhett confessed, looking deeply into your eyes. It suddenly felt like the sounds from the fair had disappeared completely. It was only you and him, and the sounds of your ragged breathing. His thumb, so rough and calloused and feeling delicious against your skin, brushed delicately across your cheekbone. “Been wanting you to be mine for a long time.” His voice was husky and warm and brimming with a sincerity that was so very much him.

“I been wanting that, too,” you admitted, biting down on your lower lip. “For a long time.”

“Be my girl?” Rhett asked softly, bumping his nose against yours and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Please?”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you ran your fingers through his long honey locks and smiled as you adjusted his cowboy hat. “Yes, Rhett Abbott. I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine.”

“Deal, honeybee,” he grinned, bending his head to kiss you again.

Honeybee. You liked the sound of that.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett x reader #x reader #x female reader #outer range #lewis pullman

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buttersmama · 10 months

Text

Amusement park shenanigans

Choi soobin x m!reader

Summary: an amusement park date w soob

Warnings: none

Wc: 1k+

“yn hurry up! The cab’s already here” says Soobin in hurry as he puts on his shoes for the day, waiting for his boyfriend to get ready. It had always been like this he remembers back then on their first date too, yn was late by a whole hour. Soobin was so bummed about it and resorted to sit alone in the café after getting stood up by his date, and downing down 3 whole drinks.

Just as he made up his mind to leave, the café door sprung open suddenly by a customer, and that was the first time ever when he laid eyes on the culprit who changed Soobin the self-claimed ‘anti romantic’ to a hopeless romantic. “hey, sorry I’m late, I messaged you several times too but you didn’t reply to any” yn says sitting right across Soobin.

His eyes travel down to the three now empty drink glasses. He tilts his head in confusion before questioning out his thoughts “you are Soobin, right? I don’t mean to be rude or anything but were you with someone else before I came along?” yn asks deflating a bit at the thought. “ah- no, I was the one who drank all the three drinks because I had nothing to do and was kinda sad that my date had stood me up” Soobin explains immediately, and gets embarrassed soon after the words leave his mouth.

His ears burn as decides to shut up. Yn laughs out loud at the boy’s demeanor, and Soobin sinks in the seat thinking he’s laughing at him. “Soobin, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, and im really sorry I made you think I wasn’t coming, I mean no one would ever leave you hanging. Just look at you” yn explains with his exaggerated hand actions.

“ow-” Soobin flinches at the sudden pain, “now who’s getting us late?” asks yn all dolled up. “what’s gotten into you? Stop staring” yn says looking away from his lover’s eyes. “nothing just remembered how we were quite late on our very first date too” Soobin replies without missing a beat, satisfied with how yn flushes in embarrassment. “how many times have I told you it was because I am bad with directions and got lost on the way!

Anyway, don’t we have a cab waiting? Don’t blame me when we get there late and have to stand in long queues” y/n huffs heading out. “wait for me babe!” Soobin says shutting the door behind him after placing the house keys in the pockets. Catching up to their designated car for the ride, Soobin rushes sitting in the back seat with his boyfriend and utters a small ‘sorry for the delay’ settling and adjusting a little.

“we just got out of the house and I am sweating buckets” yn says to no one in particular while leaning on Soobin while looking at the view outside. “don’t worry yn my love for you won’t decrease even if you stink” Soobin comments jokingly, who was quickly shut up by yn’s stern glare. He quickly

apologized embracing the latter tightly. The couple held the same position till they reached the amusement park.

“we’re here” the mister who drove them, said breaking the silence. Soobin was the first one to get out of the car and waited for his boyfriend to follow as well while he paid for the ride. The amusement park was bustling with people and there was already a queue forming at the ticket counter. “told ya there’d be a queue” yn said joining soobin’s side.

“and who’s fault is that?” asked mockingly.

Yn on the other hand ignored the comment and started heading forward after harshly elbowing Soobin as a punishment. The couple joined the queue and waited and waited and waited for a long time until finally it was their turn to purchase the tickets. “tickets for 2 please” yn said, paying for them and taking two purple color bands assigned for adults to wear.

“here, I’ll help you with it” yn muttered to his boyfriend and pulling him along. They stood at a secluded area while helping each other put the bands on. “thank you, baby,” Soobin said suddenly feeling all lovey dovey and embracing his darling. Yn was a bit surprised initially but smiled and leaned in more affectionately.

Yn cherished such moments; it made him feel all warm inside and think what good did he even do to deserve such a guy in his life. “love you boobie” Soobin scoffed at sudden confession, “love you too or whatever” he says swaying both of them together.

“hmm, I don’t wanna leave but do you wanna try out the roller coaster?” yn asks looking at his yn to which he nods detaching from each other.

“ya think you can handle it?” soobin asks being all confident.

“yeah I guess, I mean I’ve never tried it before but I think I’ll do okay” he answers honestly, swaying their hands together.

“if you get scared, just latch onto me instead, I’ll protect you”

“yes love” yn says absolutely smitten.

They wait in the queue once again and soon enough get to sit on the ride, two people in one compartment it said, perfect. All settled, with the safety bar in place the ride starts, initially it was quite slow which yn wondered around why, just as he was bout to voice his thoughts, the ride took a dip. Not until that moment in life yn experienced true fear. He let out a screech and clung onto his lover eyes tightly shut as a safety measure.

Soobin laughed at his lover’s antics wondering why would he even suggest going on the roller coaster if he himself was so scared of them, and mentally took it as a note to never bring yn on this very ride. The ride was over in minutes though yn felt as if he had been stuck on it for an eternity. Soobin held his hand out to support a very dizzy and tired yn, this was their first ride and yn already looked like he was ready to pass out.

“babe, if you couldn’t handle fast rides why did you even suggest going on one?” Soobin chuckled. “I didn’t know it would be so draining! Besides, I had never tried it before” yn replies, still holding onto Soobin as they made their way out.

“its was pretty good if we leave out the part where you were practically glued to me” he teased. Yn’s face burned up in embarrassment and buried his face in Soobin side staying silent having no comeback. This didn’t go unnoticed by Soobin of course to which he just ruffled yn’s hair gave him a small peck on the forehead.

Yn’s heart thumped faster at the sweet gesture, face adorning a smile unknowingly.

#txt #tomorrow by together #txt post #txt x male reader #txt x reader #male reader #txt yeonjun #txt beomgyu #choi soobin #choi soobin x male reader #soobin x male reader #soobin x reader #txt soobin #blue #blue dividers

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borathae · 2 years

Text

“Yoongi dresses up as your favourite character as a sexy, little surprise. He is not ready however for just how good he will get you with it. Not that he is complaining.”

Pairing: husband!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: married life!AU, Smut

Warnings: Yoongi dresses up as Levi Ackerman, yep that’s the whole premise of the story, sub!Yoongi, dom!Reader, very ferally horny!Reader, rough making out, she just kind of pushes him around & he loves it, she also pins him down on multiple surfaces & rides the living shit out of him, some dirty talk, a very sloppy blowjob, a quick yet rough fuck, creampies, overstimulation (m.receiving), she calls him Captain & he calls her Misses Ackerman and brat for the roleplay, Yoongi is basically this emoji OoO the entire time

Wordcount: 5k

a/n: This is so entirely and sickeningly self-indulgent that’s it’s ridiculous and the OC could very well be called Sibi LMOAO. No, I am not even an ounce ashamed to admit it. Not one teeny tiny, itsy pitsy ounce. This was delicious to work on and has no brain behind it, just pussy 🥵 If you decide to read it, first of all, I see you 😛 and second of all, have fun 🤪💜

The problem with being an adult and having your own adult money is that one can spend said adult money on anything one wants, even if it is something entirely stupid.

Yoongi, adult and owner of his own adult money, did exactly that.

He spent his adult money on something entirely stupid.

Well, he hopes it is not stupid as it is the most important part of an elaborate plan to seduce you, his wife, adult and owner of her own adult money. That fact was beside the point however, as this story was about Yoongi and his adult money and the silly things he purchased over the course of the last two months.

It was a rather tedious process. One which took probably most of his nerves. He did most of the online shopping at work, hunched over his old, grainy desktop while his kindergarten students were napping. Fear not, it wasn’t sextoys he purchased (although he is very certain that you would say so differently) but rather bits and pieces of a perfectly planned out costume. Then over the course of two months he had to make sure that he would be the first one to snatch your shared package deliveries.

At one point he even had to snatch it right out of your hands, telling you lies about it being work-related and totally boring. You looked at him weird and asked him why he was being so protective over all the packages lately which almost made Yoongi spill the entire surprise because of how excited he was about surprising you.

But he didn’t and now after two months and fifteen days all the parts of his costume have finally arrived. Most parts were handcrafted by people, hence why the process took so much time and even more money from him. Too much money. Way too much of his hard earned adult money.

Yoongi isn’t complaining, he is just once again letting one know just how much money he spent on the entire surprise, so if it should fail, he will probably break into tears.

Now, one may wonder what exactly all this ruckus is about. What surprise and why is there talk about costumes? One shall find out.

Yoongi, owner of adult money is husband to the love of his life, his dream girl, his best friend and the biggest, goddamn nerd in history. Anime nerd to be more specific. Attack on Titan to get to the actual point.

Oh, how many times he already had to rewatch this show with you and how many times he had to listen to you absolutely losing your sanity over one of the characters.

Levi Ackerman was his name. The anime called him humanity's strongest soldier, you called him your 2D husband who could get it so hard (your words not his'). At first Yoongi found it quite…vexing to hear such words from his wife, but these days he has accepted his defeat against his greatest rival and just lets you.

Perhaps he is even grateful for him as he gave him the most wonderful of ideas. It was just two months and fifteen days ago and Yoongi had to once again sit through you rewatching your favourite show for the nth time. It was when you reached the third season and began talking about "how hard season three Levi could get it" and that "you would literally open your legs for that man if he ever decides to slide into you like he did into that bar" that you also dropped words along the line of "I think I love him so much because he reminds me of you, Yoobi", which then made Yoongi look up from his phone just to gawk.

You weren’t really aware that you said what you said as you were too busy almost moaning out loud because of Levi flying from roof to roof killing bad guys. Yoongi however was very aware and thus began his elaborate plan of surprising you in the best way possible.

The first thing on his agenda today was going to the hairdresser. He would have done so regardless of the plan because he dearly needed a haircut. However, today he whipped out his phone to show his barber pictures of Levi Ackerman with the shyly mumbled words of "don’t ask, my wife says he reminds her of me. It’s a surprise" to which the barber dearly nodded and then began recreating the look.

Once he was done – and Yoongi had to realise that he looked amazing with an undercut – it was time to drive home and get everything ready for tonight.

He showered, even exfoliated and moisturised, then shaved and fixed his hair. His eyebrows he left untouched because he read somewhere that plucking one’s eyebrows too much can cause serious catastrophes. He hopes that you can forgive him for not recreating the look, but you probably will as you told him on multiple occasions just how attractive you think his eyebrows are.

Afterwards he finally began putting the costume on. He chose to go with season three Levi as he knew that this look was "iconic and literally pussy wetting" in your eyes.

Once his clothes were on, he spent a good time in front of the mirror, twisting and turning and looking at himself. It wasn’t really something he would choose, but he didn’t hate it. He really liked the harnesses however, they made him look rather sexy. Even if the entire surprise fails, Yoongi knows that he will genuinely enjoy them.

And then it was time to wait. You were supposed to finish work earlier today as it was a Friday and you always finish work earlier on Friday.

Yoongi looks at the wall clock. Five minutes to go. Quick! He has to decide on a pose.

He shimmies and shifts, moves and fidgets until finally deciding on sitting on the sofa with his legs slightly spread and one elbow propped up on his own thigh. In his other hand he decides to hold a teacup to really sell the look. He even filled the cup so he could take a nonchalant sip when you came in.

The door unlocks six minutes afterwards, then he can hear you call out.

"Honey, I’m home!"

Yoongi feels dizzy in nervousness. This is so stupid, he thinks, so entirely silly.

"Honey?"

He knows that you are probably confused that he isn’t greeting you by helping you out of the jacket.

"Yoongi? Hey, I’m home!"

Yoongi feels a little bad that he can’t greet you today, but he hopes that once you see him, his cruelty will be forgiven.

"Are you wearing your headphones again? Oh Yoongs, you’re gonna get deaf if you keep doing that", he hears you talk to yourself. He almost has to smile. You know him too well.

"Now where are you? Maybe he is- oh."

Your mouth falls open in shock, you stop abruptly. Now it’s his time. Oh how long he rehearsed the line in front of the mirror. If he messes up now he will burst into tears.

"You're late, did you stop to take a shit somewhere? The tea's cold by now, brat."

Oh he didn’t mess up. Yoongi almost has to wheeze in pure relief.

"Yoongi!!"

Yoongi swears he has never heard your voice reach such frequencies.

"Oh my god, Yoongi! Yoongi! Oh god! Yoongi!" you are screeching, bouncing on the spot.

Yoongi wants to smile but doesn’t, instead he takes a nonchalant sip of his tea.

"Oi, oi what's with all the screeching?" he says in a deep voice, "you'll wake up all of Trost with it."

"Oh yeaah", you straight up roar, jumping into a sprint to literally fling yourself on top of him.

Yoongi coughs out his air, barely finding time to set the tea cup down before you have already climbed on top of him. Although, mounting would be a more appropriate term here. Maybe even straight up attacking.

"Holy fuck, Yoongi. Oh my fuck", you babble, letting out the weirdest noises every now and then as you feel him up crazily.

"You're so sexy, holy fuck. Oh my god, you look like him. Ah oh uh eh, oh my god, even the hair and you even put contact lenses in. Noo and the grey shirt! Aah!" you yell, throwing your head back just to yell even more, "you chose the best look" you faux wail, shaking him by his shoulders, "Min Yoongi, you dangerous maaaan, don’t do that to meee."

Yoongi snickers. This is exactly how he had hoped you would react. All that adult money he spent was totally worth it.

Your head bounces to the front again, your hands grasp him tightly, nails scratching over his undercut. The total madness in your eyes makes Yoongi’s stomach tingle in excitement. Oh, you are so turned on. You don’t even have to tell him, he just knows.

"You are the sexiest motherfucking, perfect man ever. I wanna marry you again and again and again. Ah god nooo the undercut looks so good on youuuu" this time around you actually wail, wiggling your entire body on top of his lap, "Yoongii you are so hooot."

"Tch, you’re giving me a headache", he says in perfect Levi fashion.

Your body freezes up, your eyes land on his face.

A squeak is threatening to spill out of you. You begin bouncing, trembling in excitement as your fingers knead his shoulders.

"Say the line, oh my god."

Yoongi lets out an exasperated sigh, "Are you finally going to say something? I could've had breakfast during the wait."

Once done, he flinches as you literally screech and then fall around him violently.

"I'm literally going to suck the living soul out of your cock, oh my god! I want you so bad, holy fuck "

Yoongi chuckles, placing his hands on your lower back to rub it softly.

"I guess you like it?"

"I fucking love it, Yoongi I want to have your entire lower body inside of me, oh my god. Seriously, live inside my vagina from now on", you are literally moaning the words, humping his thighs while your hands are kneading him as if he was dough.

Yoongi laughs, "ambitious."

"No you don’t understand", you cup his cheeks roughly, squishing them together just so you can shake his head, "this is like literal porn. No, it’s better. You’re better than porn. You are so fuck - urgh - hot. I holy fucking love you omg."

"Did you really just say omg out loud?"

"Yeah", you growl, bouncing again before a squeak runs through you, "aaah I can’t stop looking at you, oh my god, please stand up for a moment, please I want to see."

Yoongi does so gladly, even going so far as to do, how you call it, the Levi signature pose. Basically he has to rest one of his hands on his hips.

You round him like a hungry animal, groping and touching him with strong hands while making the weirdest sounds of approval and commenting about how well made all of this is and how every detail is just perfect and that you want him to literally slice you apart like a little apple. Yoongi just lets it happen, trying his hardest not to snicker.

"Aah I can’t", he hears behind him, then the low thump of something falling on the ground can be heard.

Yoongi turns, coming to realise that it was you who fell to the ground.

"Yoongiii", you wail with your head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, "your butt looks so goooood."

He laughs, squatting down just so he can be eye to eye with you.

"Is this costume related or a fact?"

"Booooth, I don’t knoow, I wanna have you so bad", you call out, flinching in surprise when he reaches out to touch your cheek.

Your eyes meet. You have just the slightest glassiness in your gaze.

Yoongi gives you a playful smile, looking so good doing it.

"Fuck, you look so hot urgh", you spit, latching yourself onto his lips.

Yoongi barely has time to breathe or close his eyes. Or find balance for the matter as just seconds later, he lies flat on the ground while you are on top of him, kissing him oh so roughly.

It's not even a gentle introduction to the kiss. It's just teeth on his lips and tongue down his throat and deep moans while hands are groping and squeezing and feeling him up all over and Yoongi is in fucking heaven, groping you with just as much vigour and kissing you back with just as much hunger.

It's insane just how good he seems to get you. Now bear in mind, Yoongi likes to argue that he always gets you good, but it’s almost unbelievable just how horny you seem to be because of the costume.

Not even ten minutes into the sloppy make out session and you have already lost your skirt and your blouse somehow is missing three buttons. Yoongi’s hair is completely ruined by now as well, but you seem to like it as you took one look at him then moaned loudly and then kissed him so deeply that Yoongi had to groan from getting his nose squished against your cheek.

"Fuck I want you. I want you so bad", you mumble between kisses, humping his lap in nothing but your panties.

Yoongi moans each time you do, telling you with an eager tongue that he wants you just as bad.

It is another ten minutes later and your shirt is officially gone while Yoongi’s grey shirt has been messily punched up underneath the harness. His fair skin is covered in your grope marks. Red scratches and crescent moon shaped bruises where your nails dug in.

His hands are busy palming your tits, doing so with eager desperation. Even through the fabric of your bralette he can feel just how hard your nipples are. How turned on he has you, how deeply into him you are. Wet pussy on his thigh and hard nipples between his fingers. Yoongi is so happy for the outcome of this surprise.

He gets yanked up all of a sudden with the help of his chest harness. The kiss breaks, Yoongi finally gets to look into your fiery eyes. Mania and madness. Fiery lust and hungry desperation. You look like sex personified right now, with your lingerie covering your best parts and your lips so swollen from kissing. You are the sexiest woman, Yoongi is so goddamn obsessed.

"I can't anymore. Get on the couch. I wanna have you right here and now", you order in a harsh growl.

He is dizzy, nodding his head in obedience. You help him get up, dragging him by the harness and then pushing him until the back of his knees collide with the couch and he falls.

"Uff", he lets out, "you're really getting at it roughly aren’t you?"

"You're so hot, holy fuck", you tell him, dropping to your knees right between his spread legs.

Yoongi knows exactly what you are going to do and so he lifts his hip with trembling knees until you finally tug his pants down far enough to free his hard cock. The harnesses around his thighs make the whole ordeal a little difficult, but you are way too determined to give up and so Yoongi finds himself with his cock and balls out while the pants stretch around his thighs.

"That's also a way to get me na-" he can’t finish his sentence.

You sink down on him with a moan, welcoming as much of him as you can fit while feeling up the rest.

"Fuck", Yoongi groans, denting the couch by throwing his head back against the backrest, "holy fuck that's so, ah, so deep."

You give him gurgled moans and a sloppy gag, bopping your head up and down his cock quickly.

Never in your life have you wanted his cock as much as you do today. You literally want to eat him up, devour him, consume him. This is the best surprise he ever made you. Fuck, you love him so much, you want him so bad.

"Ah ___", he sounds breathy, breathless even. His hands rest themselves on your head, giving you warmth and a certain pressure.

You take in even more of him, drooling all around him while making the neediest of moans. Quite frankly Yoongi can barely function. He didn’t even know that you could be so sloppy, that you could be so greedy and so unapologetically nasty.

It's maddening really, leaving him with ringing ears and a throbbing, oh so sensitive cock.

"Fuck", he presses out under his breath. It was nothing but a whisper, followed by a shuddering breath.

"Yeah fuck", you agree, spitting into your palm just so you can use it to jerk him off. Fast and rough.

Yoongi lifts himself from the couch for just a second, chasing your strong touch with eager thrusts. He would have done so longer, hadn't you forced his hips back into the pillow with a punishing grip on his waist.

"Stay down, Captain. I'm taking care of you", you spit, twisting your hand around his swollen cockhead.

"You're insane", he croaks, "fucking insane."

He is looking at you, even if it is hard. Silvery eyes half lidded and obsidian hair hanging into his sculpted brows. His cheeks, once ivory, carry the faintest of red. His pink lips are so puffy from kissing, currently sitting between his teeth as he bites down on them.

"Fuck, look at you Captain", the fantasy has a hold of you and Yoongi is loving it, "looking so fucking good like this", you croak, opening your mouth just to swallow him up again.

Yoongi’s eyes widen, his lower lip bounces from between his teeth, his long fingers grip the edge of the sofa.

"A-haah", he lets out shakily, parting his lips further, "ah, hah, a-ah."

You are sucking him, changing it up with quick licks right on his frenulum and leaking slit. Strong sucks and quick flicks of your tongue. The combination is deadly and Yoongi is dying.

His eyes fall closed, his head tilts back to reveal his throat to your eyes.

"Ah, god", he groans, keeping his mouth agape to make the neediest of sounds. He is in actual heaven.

You are a natural in sloppy blowjobs. The best. The actual best. Fast and rough, yet so tender and skilled. Wet and hot and oh so greedy.

"Good", he moans, arching his back, "so good. So good."

"Yeah and tasty. You taste so good, Captain", you rasp and swirl your tongue over his cockhead.

“Fuck”, he laughs, “you calling me like that is kinda hot”, he confesses as he spills new excitement.

You lick it right up with a grateful moan, squeezing his cock oh so tightly between your fingers. The pressure is sending electricity through his veins. You connect your lips with his tip and suck. Just the most sensitive part of it, right on top. Hungrily and roughly, you suck and suck, giving him the sweetest moans while your fingers are jacking him off quickly.

Yoongi tenses up, feeling his stomach tighten and his skin become as hot as fire.

"Honey, gonna cum", he croaks, throbbing in your fingers.

The sucking stops, the heat in his stomach dies down. Yoongi huffs out air and groans, squeezing the sofa cushion in agony.

"Not yet", you say, kissing his balls sloppily, "wanna ride you first, Captain."

“You’re cruel”, he croaks, “how should I, I hold back?”

“Don’t know, think of something”, you say with little pity in your voice.

You let go of his cock and stand up. Yoongi watches with a droopy head as you pull down your panties and step out of them. Next you get rid of your bralette, throwing it on the ground.

“Holy shit honey, you are so sexy”, he moans, feeling his cock throb at the view. He married the sexiest woman.

You give him a little pose, climbing on top of his lap afterwards.

“You like what you’re seeing, Captain?” you ask him in a sultry voice.

“So much. I married the most beautiful woman, Misses Ackerman”, he plays right along, flinching in surprise when this makes you squeal and then grab his cheeks roughly.

“Shut up oh my god, Yoongi”, you growl, “you can’t just make us be married, what the hell?”

“Why not?” he laughs, “we’re married too, I’m not gonna make us unmarried.”

“Urgh baby, I’m literally gonna ruin you”, you growl and grab his cock just to take him in.

"Fuck", Yoongi curses, tensing up at the intensity of your tripping pussy around his cock.

You dropped right down on him, giving neither you nor him any sort of warning. Just as you don’t give the two if you any time to getting used to the fuck.

“Honey please”, he squeaks out, having to gasp for air.

Your fingers twist in the straps of his chest harness. Rough and strong. You use them to literally pin him against the sofa, using the position to bounce on him with all your might.

"Fu-u-uck ___, holy fuck", he moans, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut, "you're fucking crazy. Urgh! God!"

"I'm crazy, so fucking crazy. You drive me insane. Oh my god I want to literally rip you apart, you perfect thing."

You give him a harsh shake, the kind which makes his back arch and his head tilt back. Like this his neck is exposed to you, giving way to the pearls of sweat running down right to his exposed collarbones.

You lick right along his throat, sending shivers through his nimble body.

“Wanna eat you up, you sweet kitten. Wanna ruin you, fuck”, you pant, twisting more of his harness to pull him closer. His jawline is under your teeth, getting marked up and bitten with eager hunger. Your hips, still merciless, begin rolling back and forth as they bounce.

"Argh, fuck", he groans, "please slow, gonna cum otherwise.”

“No. Hold back”, you order in a growl, “wanna fuck hard and fast.”

“You’re cruel”, he whines, but laughs, “please, I’m just a, a w-weak man.”

“No you’re not. You’re humanity’s strongest soldier. So hold back Captain, hold back until I tell you to let go”, you carry mania in your voice, it makes you sound raspier than usual.

You straighten back up, using his strong shoulders for support. The sofa is creaking under your movements, Yoongi is squeaking.

“Wanna bounce on you, babyboy. Wanna ruin that cock for anyone except me.”

Yoongi grabs your hips so tightly that it hurts. He presses out a graphic curse and a fruitless plead for your mercy with his eyes rolled back.

But mercy doesn’t come and so Yoongi is bound to climax deep inside of you with a weak whimper of your name. He is shaking, seeing stars, feeling dizzy. It’s a good orgasm, because it’s intense and hot. But as good as it is, it also feels like torture. He disobeyed you and Yoongi has been your husband long enough to know that such disobedience has consequences.

“Did you just cum?” you ask, not slowing down. There they are. The consequences. Overstimulation to the point where Yoongi feels like bursting into tears.

“Yeah”, he croaks, twitching aggressively each time you drop down on him. His cock is so sensitive. He feels every inch your warm walls hug and it burns. Burns so much.

“Fuck, Yoongi. Didn’t I tell you not to?”

“S-sorry I, I couldn’t help it- ah”, he groans, squeezing his eyes into little slits while furrowing his brows. His cock weeps, throbbing painfully while your pussy is forcing it to stay hard, “was too much”, he whines, “honey please slow.”

“No?” you laugh in amusement, “you know the rules. You cum without permission and I get to use your weak cock as a dildo. It’s only fair.”

“Fuck ___ you’re cruel”, he whines.

“Yeah, I’m so cruel. So crazy for you, Captain”, you agree, pulling him closer by his harness until you can kiss him breathtakingly roughly.

Yoongi whimpers into the kiss, letting you lick into his mouth and bite his lips until he feels like screaming. The fuck feels better because of it. Still hot and his cock still feels like bursting in overstimulation, but the kiss grounds him, pulls him into the moment, soothes him. It’s not a soothing kiss per say, of course not, you are basically eating him up, but Yoongi loves kissing you during sex. He finds great comfort in it. It reminds him that you love him and that he loves you.

He loves that reminder.

“___”, he sighs and wraps his strong arms around your waist. He broadens his stance and begins meeting your movements in quick ruts up.

“Y-Yoongi”, you mewl into the kiss.

“Like it?” he asks, panting quickly.

“Yeah…love it…fuck Captain, you…yes”, you moan, stumbling into a sloppy and terribly wet kiss all whilst grinding your hips into him in a needy rhythm.

Yoongi may be suffering right now, his cock may be aching for a break, and his head may be pounding loudly, but he wants to please you so bad that he ignores all those aches. He wants to make you cum right on top of him, throw you over the edge and get you to heaven and back. This is his duty as your loving husband. Please you. Please you. And please you even more. It’s the kisses which motivate him. Your sweet, sweet lips on his' and your greedy hands running along his undercut.

Yoongi moans into you, fucking you with all his might. He wants to please. Oh, he wants to please so well. He loves how you touch his scalp, loves how you feel up his undercut, loves how you mewl into the kiss and he loves how you feel around him. Your pussy is so warm, so wet, so tight in pleasure. He knows that you are clenching down on him, that you are chasing the heat that comes with squeezing right around him. He is aware that you are mostly doing it for yourself, because you’ve told him just how good it feels to do a kegel when he’s inside, but fuck, it feels incredible for him too.

He chases it, even if his cock is twitching. Deeper and deeper, harder and harder, better and better. Hips meet hips, your ass feels oh so squishy each time it connects with his thighs, your body trembles under his fingertips.

"Fuck, Yoongi, f-fuck", the kiss breaks as you let your head fall down. Now it’s resting against him, forehead against forehead and noses rubbing together while your hot breaths are intermingling.

"Is good? Like it?" he asks and pants for air, holding your hips to grind them against him. He can feel your clit rubbing against him, knowing very well that this is going to make you cum for sure. You love it when he does that, when you can grind against him as his cock is inside. It always gets you, he knows it does because he fucked you a hundred million times and knows your body like no other.

"So good, ah baby", your voice pitches in pleasure, you tighten around him, "close."

"Let go, let go Misses Ackerman", he whispers, feeling you tense even more.

Your hips stutters, your nails dig into the nape of his neck.

"Fuck", you squeeze your eyes shut, "Min Yoongi you dangerous…man… ah god", you press out and moan, throwing your head back as your body falls into its high.

Yoongi holds you through it, watching your face morph into the prettiest expression with his heart pounding in his chest. He loves this so much. You are so beautiful. Feel so good too. This is it. His purpose. He is finally fulfilling it. Fuck, it feels so good.

"Urgh god", you come down with an arch of your back, growing slack against him.

Your arms are hooked behind his head, your cheek is resting on his shoulder and every now and then your body twitches as a shiver runs through it.

"Holy moly", you mumble, huffing out air.

"Yeah, right?" Yoongi agrees, feeling up your ass and back. He can’t deny it, he is still so horny. His cock has just started to enjoy the sensations again and having your warm walls pulsate as an aftermath of your high feels incredible to him. He is aching to fuck up into you again, but doesn’t for the sake of you catching your breath.

"I feel like we didn’t have a quickie in ages", you say and laugh breathily.

"Yeah right? That was intense. You’re crazy."

"I know, it’s the costume. You’re literally the sexiest man ever and now you’re looking even sexier and I can’t help myself."

Yoongi chuckles, squeezing your buttocks.

"So you like it?"

"Yes. I love it. This is gonna be used often from now on."

"Understood", Yoongi mumbles and grins. You are really so whipped. Spending all his adult money was so worth it.

You lift your head then, meeting his droopy gaze. You feel droopy yourself.

"Please leave the costume on", you say, already feeling him up again.

Yoongi chuckles, "fine, I’m leaving it on. Good god, you brat."

"Aaah don’t say that, I’m gonna get horny again."

He snorts, "you're so funny. You don’t even like that word or being called like that."

"Yeah, but it's different because Levi’s just saying that lovingly and that’s why it gets me and now you say it looking like him and it gets me."

"I think everything he does gets you."

You nod your head vigorously and giggle.

Yoongi rolls his eyes fondly, "of course he does."

"Yes, but you get me better. You know that you do", you whine, nudging his chest, "so much better.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, you do. Oh my god, Yoongi I love you. Thank you for this surprise. You look so handsome, I’m gonna cry", you say and pull him into a deep kiss while your hips begin moving again.

Yoongi sighs, welcoming the movement with eager hips.

Needless to say, he is in for a long and wild night.

828 notes · View notes

hyunbunlix · 6 months

Text

Ameliorate [white king!Jeongin]

Characters: Jeongin, fem!OC Rating: A/O for Adults Only Content Warnings/Tags: killing/death, blood, blood magic, unprotected sex, switch (sub-leaning) Jeongin, riding, missionary, praise kink (m. receiving), dirty talk, raw male orgasm Word Count: 9,989 Summary: Jeongin has spent years as the king of White Seoul trying to keep the neighboring dimension, Black Seoul, from devouring his home. When his cousin, the queen, is killed, he's forced to take her killer as his new queen and borrow her magic to reinforce the boundary between White Seoul and Black Seoul. Very quickly, though, Jeongin realizes he wants more than a begrudging partnership between them. Note: This story was inspired by the world of A Darker Shade of Magic by V. E. Schwab.

When she killed the queen of White Seoul, she hadn’t been thinking about consequences. She hadn’t been thinking about what role this woman played in the ecosystem, or what seams she was holding together.

No, when she killed the queen of White Seoul, she had only one goal in mind, and it was not becoming a human sacrifice.

All things ran on magic in one way or another, but White Seoul was exceptionally ruthless, exceptionally greedy. More often than not, the tithe required to keep the world together was blood, and magical blood, at that. Without it, the rains would dry, the sun would burn, the plants would wither. If the world could not drink blood, then those who dared try to live at its expense would pay.

But she hadn’t been thinking about that. None of it had crossed her mind for even a moment. Under the threat of kill or be killed, she had chosen to kill White Seoul’s queen.

And why should she not? Why could the queen’s blood not be what watered the ground, what fed the greedy earth and appeased it for a time? Why should the queen get to live while choosing who among her subjects would suffer?

She also had not stopped to consider the more immediate consequences. She was seized upon by soldiers and dragged to the palace, directly to the throne room. She had not paused to consider what the king would say, what he would do.

White Seoul was a strange place, and so its rules about royalty were strange, too. The king and queen had not been married; in fact, they’d been related. Cousins. The pair of them happened to be the present strongest in their family line, and so they were chosen to rule together and keep everyone else under control. It was that simple.

Until, it seemed, one of them was no longer strong enough.

The queen-killer was flung onto the hard floor, losing her purchase immediately and putting both hands down to catch herself. Both hands, which were still stained in the queen’s blood, and so, too, stained the marble floor.

She jerked her gaze up as the captain of the guard announced her name, defiant and angry, to meet the eyes of the king, who looked every bit as furious as she. He was nearly statuesque with his pronounced cheekbones and strong jaw, his hair a white blond that contrasted beautifully with his golden brown skin. Dressed all in white, her blood would have been stark, should he decide to draw it.

Or, his blood would be stark, should she manage to open his veins first.

She flung out with her power, emboldened by her first kill, and drove the soldiers back. As quickly as she’d moved, so did the king, coming down off the dais and striking out at her with a short, flat sword. She jumped back; a guard gripped her ankle and tried to pull her down, tried to force her prostrate to make her easier for the king to execute. She sent a current of lightning down her leg to throw him off. Just in time, too, narrowly dodging another blow from the king.

“She killed the queen!” cried one of the guards near the back wall. The king’s eyes flashed darker, but he hesitated, halting his next strike.

“Is this true?” he asked, and she was stunned by his voice, soft and sweet and not at all fitting for the ruler of a world as jagged as this one.

She spread her sticky hands, as though that was all the answer he needed. Still, she answered aloud, “Yes.”

His jaw clenched, his hand tightening on the hilt of his blade.

“You have no idea what you’ve done,” he said. She glowered at him.

“I defended myself.”

“You didn’t have to kill her.”

“You have no idea what I had to do. You weren’t there.”

The king regarded her coldly, but didn’t refute the point. To her shock, he sheathed his blade with a metallic snap.

“Come. There’s something I need to show you.”

He turned and started for one of the halls perpendicular to the throne. She should have taken the opportunity to strike his unguarded back, but something stayed her hands. She followed.

“You have no idea what you’ve done,” he repeated, though his voice was less combative than the first time.

“Enlighten me, then,” she said. He glanced at her. His expression was stormy, but he didn’t read as threatening any longer.

“Do you know why the palace was built here?” he asked. Her expression creased with confusion.

“No. What does that have to do with anything?”

“The palace was built here because this is where the veil between White Seoul and Black Seoul exists in its thinnest state. This is the way between worlds. And Black Seoul has been trying for centuries to get in.”

She remained silent. She knew of the existence of other worlds, stacked atop one another like the pages of a book, but had never been to one.

“Do you know why there are always two rulers of White Seoul?” he asked next, looking her hard in the face. They had reached a circular atrium of a room with sigils all over the walls, floor, and ceiling. Things felt . . . wrong within its bounds.

She worked to steady her breathing, the room itself exerting a pressure upon her that made her want to descend into panic. Through the noise in her head, she tried to think. With everything she knew, surely she could divine this answer.

A shiver went down her spine as she realized the sigils were all drawn in blood.

“It takes two to hold it back,” she whispered. The king regarded her evenly. She thought he looked pleased she’d figured it out, but she’d likely imagined it. Compared to the threatening aura of the room, the king seemed docile.

“With my cousin dead, I need a new queen to help me keep it at bay. You killed the queen, which means you’re at least equal in strength to her. Therefore, this is the punishment for your crime. I’ll have you coronated tomorrow morning,” he said.

“Just like that?” she asked in disbelief.

“I don’t have any other choice,” he answered, his voice gaining an edge that reminded her of his blade. “I’ll show you to your rooms.”

It seemed there was a second part to her punishment, and that was being made to live in the chambers of a dead former queen.

The first night she hardly slept, both out of disquiet at inhabiting the rooms of a ghost and out of nerves for the day ahead. Would the people of White Seoul accept her as the new queen? Did it even matter if they did?

The questions, unanswered, swarmed her thoughts like gnats until dawn arrived and a pair of attendants came to ready her. Apparently, the king had not been joking when he’d said morning.

It occurred to her that she didn’t even know his name. The titles had always mattered more than the names. She was fairly certain he was a Yang, but that was all. The rulers all seemed to die relatively quickly. Even when power managed to stay in the same family for more than a generation or two, the names and faces changed far too often to remember them all. At least, she personally had never seen the point in devoting time to the practice.

The attendants made her presentable, styling her hair simply but elegantly, putting the barest hint of cosmetics on her face. Finally, they dressed her all in white, as the rulers always appeared to their people.

They led her to the end of the queen’s wing, where the king was waiting to walk with her. He looked every bit as regal as the day before, his blond hair styled back off his forehead, causing one’s full attention to go directly to his sharp fox eyes. He, too, had had cosmetics applied with a subtle hand, which only made his eyes appear fiercer. He looked at her with an unreadable expression, then offered his arm.

“This shouldn’t take long,” he said as they walked. “I’ll do the talking, since I’m the one with the rapport. There will be time later for the people to know you.”

“Understood,” she said, relieved. She had no idea how a ruler was supposed to behave, except that she felt the former queen had done a sorry job of it. Probably not the best sentiment to bring forth to a public that would shortly begin grieving.

As they proceeded out of the palace, she quickly noted the gonfalons that had been unfurled overnight, each one bearing the crest of the house that had ruled for the last few decades, since White Seoul's last toppling and subsequent conquering. She realized she’d been right; the Yangs still held power. The gonfalons had not been there the day before when she’d been detained, so she presumed they only went up as a signal to the public that something was about to happen. As such, she was unsurprised to find the courtyard full of denizens murmuring to one another. When they spied the king, a respectful hush rippled through them.

“I appreciate your presence this morning,” the king said, his voice projecting well despite his naturally gentle tone. “I bear news both distressing and hopeful. I hope you will keep open hearts and minds as I relay them each to you.”

The crowd was rapt, watching their king with undivided attention. Naturally, only a fraction of the city’s population could fit within the bordering wall, but it was clear that news of what was said would spread through the rest of the city like wildfire.

“It is with a heavy heart that I must share with you the death of my cousin, the queen. As many of you know, the throne demands much from us, and her constitution could no longer bear the strain.”

She fought to keep any expression off her face at his words. How could he lie so boldly, so smoothly, to his own people? So her crime was to be brushed aside, then? What of the people who had seen her do it, the guards who had apprehended her? Could they be expected to keep a secret? Would they be imprisoned? Killed? Would their blood be used to quench the earth?

“As we grieve,” the king went on, “I ask only that you remember everything in this world meets its end. All things must end so that others may begin. In this way, I have glad tidings to share with you, as well.”

The king reached for her hand, and she felt innately that something was about to go askew.

“I feel a bit strange about announcing this now,” the king went on, a bashful hint to his voice, “but we will not be without a queen. I present to you a woman of grace and power equal to my own, a woman I am happy to call our queen not by blood, but by choice. Her decisiveness and tenacity will be a boon to our kingdom, and to our world.”

And then, without any further explanation, he tugged her hand, causing both of them to turn and face each other. She was hardly able to meet eyes with him before his hands went to her waist and his mouth covered hers. Despite every instinct telling her to stiffen or even push him away, she knew what he was doing, the picture he was trying to paint. So she put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him back.

Behind closed doors, her cooperation was not so docile. He escorted her back to her wing, and she insisted he walk her all the way back to the sitting room adjacent to the bedroom. Being an apparent gentleman, he couldn’t refuse.

She yanked him inside by the arm and shut the door quickly, pressing her back to it and blocking the exit. She looked at him with wild, incredulous eyes. He looked at her like he’d expected nothing else.

“What the hell was any of that?” she demanded.

“It was the path of least resistance.”

“You couldn’t have warned me in advance?”

“I only thought of it this morning, there wasn’t time.”

“Did you really have to kiss me?”

“It was the fastest and easiest way to convince them. It removes suspicion from you. Why would I kiss my cousin’s murderer?”

“I don’t know, why would you?”

“Because it would mean the most peaceful transference of power,” he said, frustration mounting. “If they knew what you did and didn't believe that it was either justified or sanctioned, mobs would be trying to execute you left and right. My cousin was polarizing at best. If I show myself to be unequivocally on your side, then recourse will be minimal. If they tear you to pieces, then where will I be? How would I be able to do what needs to be done if you’re dead and dismembered? You’re the best option I have right now, and I don’t have time to waste looking for another. I’d bleed myself dry trying to hold it back alone.”

Effectively cowed, she murmured her only remaining objection. “You didn’t even tell me your name first.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and he looked so boyish then that her heart nearly snapped in two. Ruler of a kingdom, holding back the tide of an encroaching dimension with his own blood, and he couldn’t have been any older than his early twenties. She wanted to take back all the anger that had been in her voice before, though she would never take back the action that had gotten them here.

“Jeong In,” he said softly, a new side to his voice she hadn’t yet heard and felt she surely hadn’t earned. “I’m Yang Jeong In.”

“Jeong In,” she said just as quietly, testing it out. She liked the shape of it in her mouth. “I’m not sorry for killing your cousin, but I am sorry for causing you, personally, so much trouble.”

He looked entirely taken aback, his eyes blinking in conflicted confusion. She laughed quietly. “Don’t worry; I wouldn’t know how to respond to that, either.”

His gaze darted away from her, as though his composure might be found on the far wall somewhere. When he met her eyes again, he seemed closer to the aloof monarch she expected to see.

“We’ll eat together in a few hours. After that, I’ll start teaching you about the wards,” he said, a creeping tiredness at the edge of his voice. She nodded and moved away from the door so he could leave.

“I . . . look forward to seeing you,” she said, feeling it imperative that they part on good terms. He glanced at her with surprise and wariness and something else she couldn’t identify.

He nodded, holding his silence, and then was gone.

Kissing her had been a mistake. A rash, stupid mistake. He’d been telling it true when he’d given the official reason. He wanted their subjects to think they were in love, and therefore more easily accept her. A transference of the authority he already commanded onto her, his new queen.

Strategically, the logic was sound. That hadn’t been the mistake. The mistake had been his assumption that he could remain personally unbiased. In other words, he’d liked it, and he couldn’t stop berating himself for it.

While he could genuinely say that he would mourn his cousin’s death in his own way, she had without question been a cruel queen. He blamed her death as much on her as he did on the actual killer. They’d disagreed on how to deal with the wards. Jeong In had always chosen to use primarily his own blood, while his cousin had used a combination of her own and other people’s. Sometimes she wouldn’t even kill them outright, instead keeping them imprisoned as blood factories until they either figured out a way to off themselves or she grew bored of them. He wasn’t actually surprised that one of her potential hostages had finally fought back with enough force to end her.

Beyond that, though, was Jeong In’s lack of time to invest in any meaningful companionship. He had a realm to run in all the normal ways, as well as defending it from an encroaching threat the average citizen didn’t even know about. All the public knew was that sometimes the water and magic dried up and made life inhospitable for everyone, and that blood was the only thing that could make it a little better. Jeong In knew the wards were a stopgap, but right now it was the best he could do, the best any of them had ever been able to do. It consumed his waking hours and oftentimes his sleeping ones, too, when night terrors came to plague him.

He was tired, and he was lonely. A partnership of convenience wasn't his ideal situation, but it was a gamble he would eventually have to take, anyway. His parents' marriage had been one of convenience, and they'd at least grown to like each other. His cousin's parents, on the other hand, had hated each other until the day they died.

Jeong In wouldn’t delude himself into thinking that he and his new queen would grow to love each other, but if they could grow familiar enough to tolerate each other’s presence, to let their guards down and at least be friendly . . .

When Jeong In got back to his rooms he immediately put a pillow over his face, as though he could so easily put himself out of his own misery. Who was he kidding? He wanted so desperately to be held, to be loved, and now that he’d kissed her, he would be tormented indefinitely by the thought of it.

The longer she looked at the wards, the more she started to see the patterns. She began to understand why certain sigils went where they did, which parts of the equation had been applied most recently and which needed a new coat of blood.

“The key, as I’m sure you’ve figured out, is the blood of the caster,” Jeong In was explaining. “We’re able to augment the material cost with the blood of others, as long as it’s both magical and human, but the caster’s own blood has to provide the base. It won’t bind otherwise. At least, not as effectively, which makes the total cost far worse in the end. Past generations attempted it.”

“The base . . . Then, is that what the blood tithes are for?” she asked, looking away from the wall of sigils in front of her and to her left instead, toward him. He seemed oddly taken aback that she would choose to look at him, though he quickly recovered his composure.

“Yes. We encourage the citizens to tithe whenever they feel they’re able. We try to compensate them where we can, though it doesn’t always guarantee participation. My cousin used to employ . . . less voluntary means, as some of our ancestors once did,” he said. She snorted. So that would have been her fate if she hadn't taken the late queen's life instead—her blood used like magical paint on a wall.

“How often do we have to bleed for it?” she asked, letting her indignation pass without verbal acknowledgment.

“Every couple of days now,” Jeong In said, a grim set to the line of his mouth. “It’s been worse recently.”

“That explains why the world has felt so . . . brittle,” she said. Everything from the ground to the trees felt like it might crack in two any day. They’d been desperate for rain for some time.

“Let me show you where we keep it,” Jeong In said, leading her back down the hall to an adjacent room. Within its walls, blood was stored like wine, an unsettling sight. The metallic smell made her stomach curdle.

“Decades ago, the methods were more barbaric,” Jeong In sighed, nodding towards several storage chests. “Thankfully, we have syringes now. Makes things less gruesome, and the scarring less egregious.”

“So you’ll have to draw my blood every couple of days?” she asked.

“For the time being,” he answered. “For as long as the stores hold. When the supply starts to dwindle, the demand on you and me goes up.”

He looked so incredibly tired as he said that. If she recalled the last upheaval correctly, he’d been king for four or five years now. He’d been offering his blood to their dying world since he’d been a teenager.

“You’ve given a lot, haven’t you?” she asked softly. He looked at her warily, as though there might be a trap in her words, but his shoulders sagged a little as he gave in and answered.

“Yes,” he said, his voice as quiet as hers had been. “I’ve never been able to bring myself to use the less savory methods. I’m only comfortable spilling my own blood.”

She couldn’t resist the call to gamble then, stepping a little closer to him and taking his hand in hers. He looked stunned by the contact but didn’t pull away.

“You’re a good man,” she said, and knew it in her heart to be true. He lowered his gaze, though whether it was out of shyness or sadness she couldn’t tell.

“I’m trying,” he said, his voice barely there. She held his hand tighter.

The assassin came during the time when Jeong In and his queen were supposed to be hearing petitioners.

They sat in their audience room, enthroned side by side, listening to tidings of the rest of the city and offering their help and guidance where they could. This had the double effect of allowing them a glimpse of how bad things were at large. The new queen, having lived outside most of her life, had a knack that Jeong In couldn’t quite replicate. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t leave the palace often, but it still stung him.

Their next petitioner was a young woman probably around Jeong In’s age. She had a sweet face but wore a severe expression; Jeong In expected her to report another crop failure or perhaps an illness of livestock. His arm itched, knowing he’d have to bleed again later that night.

Instead, the petitioner opened her mouth and said “Long live the queen.” Ice shot through Jeong In’s blood, and he made to get to his feet, but his queen was already moving. The next few seconds were a blur, and when Jeong In’s brain caught up, he realized what had happened.

The assassin’s words had been a decoy. She spoke of the queen but flung a dagger end-over-end at Jeong In instead. His queen was faster, moving into the way to intercept. Rather than some act of sacrifice, though, a crackling ball of static electricity leapt to life between her palms, a field of polarity that pulled on the metal of the dagger and trapped it, holding it suspended between her hands.

“Indeed,” the queen said, and returned the dagger to whence it had come, piercing the assassin’s chest. She crumpled to the floor, gasping. The queen separated her hands, the electricity following her left. She held her charged hand in front of her and the dagger came back, snapping into her grip.

Their guards, who had all acted much slower, rushed forward now to detain the would-be assassin. “Staunch her bleeding,” the queen ordered. “I have both questions and consequences that I wish to bestow upon her.”

As the guards moved to do as she commanded, clearing the perpetrator from the room, Jeong In finally finished processing what had happened. The whole event had taken less than twenty seconds, yet he was thoroughly shaken.

His queen turned to him, and the battlemonger he expected to see didn’t materialize. For one traumatized instant he expected to see his cousin’s murderous intent on his queen’s face, but he found no such thing. Instead, she looked worried, her eyes darting all over him as though there might have been a second attack that she’d missed.

“Jeong In, are you all right?” she asked, reaching for him with her free right hand. She touched his shoulder, his arm, and he nodded, coming back to himself, her touch grounding him.

“I’m fine,” he said, feeling oddly short of breath. “You saved my life.” He wasn’t sure why he sounded so surprised.

“Of course,” she said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You saved mine first.”

He stared at her, stunned. It was an innocuous enough statement, especially in front of an audience that believed them to be a loving couple, but to him, the meaning felt double-edged. He couldn’t make himself answer.

His queen, interpreting his hesitation as shock due to the attempt on his life, turned her attention back to the audience chamber. “We will retire early today, in light of what's happened. We will reconvene in two days’ time. You have our sincerest apologies,” she said. Her authoritative voice had gotten a lot better in the last few weeks. She no longer needed Jeong In to speak for her.

She then turned and took Jeong In’s hand, and they retreated from the room together. She escorted him back to the king's wing in silence, her attention seemingly monopolized by getting him out of the open halls.

The second they were behind closed doors she put the bloodied dagger down and turned to look at him, concern creasing her features.

“You’re sure you’re all right? I didn’t detect any magic in the strike but if I missed something—”

“Why did you do that?” Jeong In interrupted. She looked confused.

“I don’t understand the question,” she said honestly. “Why wouldn’t I do that?”

“Why did you act on my behalf? Why didn’t you trust me to handle it myself?”

Jeong In knew what he was trying to ask, but the second the words left his mouth he knew he’d gone about it all wrong. His queen’s eyes narrowed at him, getting close to hateful in a way he hadn't witnessed since the day they’d first met.

“Is this about your pride?” she snapped. “Are you upset because you think I made you look weak in front of your people? Because that wasn’t my intention, Your Majesty, and if it really means that much to you, I can assure you, it will never happen again.”

Jeong In felt like he was going to be sick. It wasn’t often that he misspoke when it counted, but something about her made him think less with his brain and more with his heart, and his heart wasn’t nearly so experienced as his brain.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, instantly pleading. Her angry expression shifted slightly, letting confusion back in, but still, she looked so guarded, so closed to him, and it hurt. “I’m terrified,” he blurted. “I’m so incredibly scared that you’re going to think of me as burdensome. I’m so scared you’re going to resent me at best or get rid of me at worst.”

Her expression changed again, this time wholly to shock. “Jeong In, what are you talking about?”

“I’ve always been the weaker ruler,” he said quietly. “Everyone can see it. Even the assassin knew that. She knew to target me because I’m the weaker link. I can’t stop the encroachment. I can’t even defend myself from a run-of-the-mill assassination attempt. You can do better. You all can do so much better.”

She moved closer to him, taking both of his hands in hers. “Jeong In, I’ve never thought that even once,” she said. “Not before today, and not just now in the audience room. I wasn’t thinking anything when I did what I did. Something deep inside me just . . . acted. I had to protect you because you matter to me, and I don’t want to have to do this alone. You said there has to be two, remember? We need each other. I need you at my side, Jeong In.”

“Black Seoul’s encroachment has only gotten worse,” he murmured. “What if I’m the problem? What if I’m not strong enough? What if this would be easier for you with someone else?”

“I don’t want someone else,” she said sternly, her hands moving to touch his jaw, ensuring he kept looking at her. “You think I need a stronger king? Then become him. We’ll work together. You told me that for the last couple of generations, the queen has been more militant than the king. So let’s change it. We’ll train your magic. We’ll work on your combat skills. I don’t want anyone else at my side. So let’s make you the best possible Yang Jeong In instead.”

The words left him breathless. They were everything he wanted to hear, save for one very specific sentiment.

It was enough. He told himself it was enough.

He leaned down the slightest bit, resting his forehead to hers.

“Let’s,” he agreed.

They discovered very quickly that Jeong In’s blood ran in raw power and all it lacked was refinement. His bloodline had always put their focus on the wards first and practical application second. Whether the individual specialized in barriers and wards was inconsequential; it was what they needed to do, so it was the only thing they were officially taught. Nobody had ever bothered to show Jeong In how to hone his magic for combat because that was not the rulers’ first priority. They had guards for that.

They also discovered his magic had an affinity for ice, similar to the way his queen’s had an affinity for lightning. She taught him how to focus, how to never be without a weapon so long as there was blood in his veins. Finally, she taught him how to apply himself in combat.

Every spar was friendly, of course, never meant to hurt either of them. The only intention was to sharpen Jeong In, to make him act more on instinct and less on thought and prediction. His queen had been doing this, surviving outside and defending her blood, much longer than he, and she made it look easy. As a result, Jeong In lost often in the beginning. He found he didn’t mind so much, though, because every spar improved him, and loss did not mean failure.

That, and every spar brought them closer together in more ways than one.

The only area he consistently outclassed her in was physical strength, but she could usually work out a way to outmaneuver him, either by evading his range or otherwise using her magic to get out of his grip. As he grew more accustomed to her fighting style and the bounds of his own magic, he found himself increasingly able to use his ice to absorb or divert her shocks, giving him more room to maneuver in close quarters with her. Time passed, and the odds evened, making each spar a toss-up that anyone could win.

Today, she very nearly had the upper hand on him. He’d gotten her into close combat, which was usually his domain, but she'd been learning him, too, and answered his strength with flexibility and speed. She managed to put him off-balance, knocking him down, at which point she dove for him, wrestling one of his arms down and pinning it to the floor, counting on her weight to keep his legs down. That left him one arm, and that was all he needed.

He twisted his fist into the back of her shirt and yanked. In a real fight, he probably would have gone for the hair, but he had no desire to hurt her. The end result was her pressure letting up on his other arm, giving him both hands back. He grabbed her forearms and pushed her down and to the side, gaining back the advantage as he rolled on top of her, pinning both her wrists down with one of his hands, his free forearm applying pressure to her collarbones. If this had been a real fight, he could have captured her by manacling her hands with ice, or, in a direr situation, slit her throat with a frozen blade.

She panted beneath him, otherwise motionless, fully aware she was beaten. They had an agreement not to fight dirty with one another; they both understood what qualified as defeat and abided by it.

“Well done,” she said, and Jeong In wondered if he imagined the way she looked over his body, stretched out above hers. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of her wrists just yet.

“Thanks,” he said, also trying to get his breath. As instinct retreated and conscious thought returned, getting air to stay in his lungs was a lot harder. His hips were digging into hers; she was so warm, her face flushed from exertion.

“Do you want to let me up?” she asked softly, the barest teasing lilt to her voice.

He swallowed hard and released her wrists. He stood, offering a hand to help her up. She took it, thanking him. They looked at each other for a little too long as they caught their breath, neither of them saying anything. Jeong In couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Most of his cognizance was wholly devoted to not reaching down to adjust the way his half-hard cock was uncomfortably situated in his pants for fear of calling attention to it.

“Jeong In?” she said, a note of hesitation in her voice. It was incredibly unlike her.

“Yes?" he answered.

“We’re in this for life, right?” she asked. His heart skipped.

“Yes,” he said again.

“Which means we’re going to be together until one of us dies, right?” she asked next.

“That’s generally how it works,” he said, his voice low and quiet, terrified of derailing whatever this was.

“So it wouldn’t be strange if I asked you to fuck me, right? I mean, since we’re both here, and we’re going to be here for a long time, and it’s a little late to be bringing in new people,” she said, trying very hard to downplay what she was saying.

It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t need to mean anything. She hadn’t said anything about feelings for him, but they were friends at least and cared about each other, and for Jeong In, right then, it was enough.

It was a start, and it was enough.

“It seems like something normal queens ask normal kings to do,” Jeong In said a little bashfully. He was practically drowning in his hope that something, anything about their relationship could be normal.

“Then I’m asking,” she breathed, staring him in the face with undisguised avarice. “I’m begging. Jeong In, I need to be full so badly.”

As embarrassing as it was, her words alone made him moan, his cock twitching in his pants. Her attention darted downward, and the motion repeated, his length straining visibly.

“For how long?” she murmured.

“What?” he asked, his head empty of everything other than trying to decide the proper order of operations to undress her.

“How long have you wanted it?” she asked.

“Months,” he answered honestly.

“With me?” she asked, looking him in the eyes again.

“Of course with you,” he answered in a tone of voice that made it known any other answer would have been absolutely ridiculous. “You’re the only one I want. Whenever I think about it, it’s with you.”

“Me too,” she said.

It still wasn’t a confession. This could still be nothing more than two bodies and the energy they needed to expel looking for the nearest available outlet.

It would have to be enough. For right now, it was.

“Take me back to my room,” she said, the only one of them thinking rationally. Jeong In would have taken her right there on the floor if she’d given him permission. He nodded, pausing to adjust his erection to make it less obvious. Hopefully no one would scrutinize them during the walk back to the queen’s wing.

It wasn’t a long walk, but it felt like it took an hour. It was a fight to keep his gait normal, to not snatch up her hand and drag her to her bedroom. When they got to the queen’s wing, though, he did exactly that. His brain only started working again when they actually got to the bedroom.

“Wait a minute—”

“Don’t worry, that’s not the same bed,” she said. Jeong In blinked owlishly at her. “You were going to say it would be strange to fuck on your dead cousin’s old bed, and you would be correct. That’s not the same bed. I replaced everything that was in here. It felt haunted. Honestly, I hated you for a little while for making me stay in here at all.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. She smiled gently.

“It’s all right, that was months ago. And like I said, I got rid of everything. I didn’t want to be wasteful, so most of the furnishings were switched with ones from the guest wing.”

“You really thought of everything,” he said, gazing at her with such blatant affection that she had to see it. She smiled, the expression turning coy at the end.

“Now, do you want to clean up first, or just . . . ?”

“I can’t even think straight right now, and you’re actually considering putting another hurdle in my way?” he asked. She laughed, a bright, pure sound he wanted to hear every day for the rest of his life.

“And here I thought I was being considerate by not asking you to interact with my sweat,” she said, leaving his side to approach her bed. He scoffed.

“What’s the point when we’re just going to get sweaty again?” he asked. She grinned.

“Ah, I like where this is going,” she said, sitting on the edge of her bed. “I would have been disappointed if you were a lazy lover.”

He bit his lip. That last bit wasn’t necessarily an endearment, but it sure struck his heart as one.

“Of course I’m not,” he said. “I want you to feel good. I want to make you happy.”

Her eyes shone as she scooted up on the bed, making room for him. She opened her arms, and he went instantly to her, his mouth finding hers right away. He laid her back, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other balancing his weight on the bed so he wouldn’t crush her. Her hands, contrarily, were exploring his hard-won musculature through his clothes, honed throughout their training. He hadn’t exactly been a slouch before, but he was inarguably in the best shape of his life right now.

“You have no idea how badly I wanted this to happen,” she murmured against his lips. “Every time your body pinned mine down I hoped it would lead to this.”

“Of course I know how badly you wanted this,” Jeong In panted back. “I’ve wanted it just as much. I had to take care of myself so many times, wishing I could just do it with you instead.”

“Now you can,” she purred, moving her mouth to his neck, trailing the sensitive skin with her lips. Jeong In shuddered. “And if you’re good, we can do it again, and again, and again . . .”

“Fuck,” he hissed, his cock straining anew against his pants. “I want that so badly. I want you so badly. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go without you again after this.”

She pulled her face away from his neck to look up at him, her expression so tender, like his words had truly moved her. Jeong In leaned down to kiss her again, his mouth eager and earnest on hers. She moaned sweetly, teasing him with her tongue, which he gratefully accepted. Their kisses turned sloppy, their lips damp when he finally pulled away to let her breathe.

“I want to see you,” he said, trailing the line of her shirt with his hand, a flowing style halfway between a shirt and a dress. It was a wonder that she could fight as well as she did in it, and as good as she looked, he was desperate to get it off of her.

She dropped her arms from his body, her posture fully open to him. “Go right ahead,” she said, her voice both teasing and eager. “Take off anything you’d like.”

He started on her buttons immediately, opting to work from the bottom up. She wore a thin undershirt underneath, and she sat up, letting the outer shirt slide off her shoulders, and lifting her arms for Jeong In to relieve her of the undershirt. He obliged, leaving only her bandeau.

He switched his attention to her pants, unbuttoning them and dragging them down her legs, leaving her in her undergarments. He took a moment to simply sit back on his heels and look, sighing deeply as he drank her in.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said before he could stop himself. She smiled softly, moving close to him and kissing him again. It started out more chastely than the others but quickly devolved as she pushed him down, straddling his hips and grinding herself onto his still incredibly covered cock. His hands gripped her bare sides, pulling her closer, groaning into her mouth as the friction became unbearable.

“If you don’t want me to come in my pants and ruin this entire thing, you might want to undress me, too,” he said. She sucked lightly on his lower lip as she pulled away, and he made a soft sound of pure need.

From the moment she’d first laid eyes on Jeong In, she’d thought he was handsome. The effect had only amplified as she got to know him, and now, after weeks upon weeks of watching him hone his body, her attraction to him had finally grown out of control.

She had not thought he would respond in kind.

As she undid his shirt, baring his chest and abdomen, she made a pathetic sound halfway between a moan and a whine. Jeong In watched her with rapt attention; the thought of making light of her desperation didn’t even seem to cross his mind. She urged him to sit up with her still in his lap so she could push the shirt all the way off. Her hands moved instantly to his strong arms. Trailing his skin with her fingers, she was unable to close her hands entirely around his upper arms even while they were relaxed.

“It’s almost shameful,” she mused, a crooked smile on her face, “how much I’ve enjoyed losing to you while grappling.” He flushed.

Her touch ascended, testing his sturdy shoulders next, and Jeong In, seemingly unable to passively be admired, moved forward to put his lips to her neck. She shivered.

“I loved knowing that when we fought, you were holding back from your full strength so as not to hurt me,” she sighed.

“I would never hurt you,” he said, his voice soft and sweet against her skin.

“I know,” she said, “and I love that most of all.”

She pushed him back down on the bed, horribly impatient, and he put up no resistance. She dragged her hands down the front of his body, memorizing every ridge of his torso, until she got to his waistband, at which point she promptly undid his pants. She moved out of the way just enough for him to remove them and was stunned as he pulled his pants and underwear down in one motion, his leaking cock springing free, making him sigh in relief.

She whined, her core giving an insistent throb at the sight.

“Fuck,” she said shakily. She moved closer to run her fingertips along the smooth skin, and his length instantly twitched to her touch. Despite the lust darkening his eyes, his face was still entirely docile, like he was in awe of her, eager to savor every moment. That gentility was in his fingers, too, when he slipped a hand inside her underwear.

“You’re soaked,” he observed.

“Why do you sound surprised?” she teased. He smiled, breathing a soft laugh.

“I guess I just wanted you so badly, and I couldn’t fathom that you were being driven just as insane as I was,” he said. He slid two fingers inside her easily, her cunt already so warm and wet and greedy that he met no resistance.

“Can you fathom it now?” she asked in a low voice, wrapping her hand around his shaft and pumping slowly. His eyes rolled up in his head for a moment while he groaned, a throb going through his cock.

“Yes,” he answered as he pinned her with his gaze again. “Take me. Please.”

She couldn’t refuse him. She slid her sticky panties off and tugged her bandeau over her head, straddling his hips properly this time. He left it entirely to her, his hands motionless on her hips, watching with single-minded attention as she fit his cockhead to her entrance and gradually sat down onto him. Jeong In’s groans accompanied the whole process. She closed her eyes once he was all the way inside, savoring the feeling of being so deeply full. When his cock throbbed once more, she felt it acutely inside her and squirmed. He groaned again, and she opened her eyes to look at him, only to find him already staring at her.

She bit her lip, planting her hands on the bed on either side of his head, starting the delicious process of working her cunt over his cock. Her opening rhythm was slow, pulling all the way up to his tip before pushing slowly back down, stimulating all of him with every stroke. Even though it was only the beginning, Jeong In looked positively love-drunk beneath her. He didn’t interfere with her pace at all; from the look of him, he only kept his hands on her hips to ground himself to her body in every way he could.

“You feel so good, Jeong In,” she praised, and was surprised to see him redden.

“I’m glad,” he said, a bashful undertone to his voice that made her smile. She put her elbows down on the bed, finding his mouth with hers, speeding her pace a bit while they messily kissed, a desperate exchange of tongues as much as lips. Jeong In did start affecting her rhythm then, his hands gripping her hips more tightly, pushing her down harder and faster with every stroke.

“Somebody’s excited,” she teased, pushing back up onto her hands to give herself a better angle. All he could manage was a moan in response as she picked up the pace he’d started to set, keeping every glide along his cock quick and sound.

“You already knew I was excited,” he said breathlessly, one hand reaching for her chest now. She was delighted to find his hand was big enough to squeeze both breasts at the same time, drawing a sigh from her lips.

“I did,” she crooned, “but it’s a wide gamut, you see. You seem downright desperate for it.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, looking all the way down now, watching his cock disappear inside her over and over. “Is that really my fault? It’s not often that you get to experience something you’ve only dreamed about, only to have reality be better than the dream.”

“It feels that good?” she asked. He nodded eagerly, his eyes finding hers again.

“So good,” he answered, the subtle edge of a whine in his voice.

“So good that you’ll come for me tonight?” she nudged.

“Want to,” he gasped out. “Want to so bad.”

“Me too,” she agreed, her thorough glides along his cock gradually turning into short bucks, doing everything she could to shove him inside her as hard and deep as possible. “I want to come all over that cock. I want to make such a mess of you.”

The sound he made then was pure desperation, a moan and a whine in one, both hands on her hips again, his own hips twitching up into her, seeing her goal and aiding it any way he could.

“I want that too,” he gasped. “Please come on me. Please use me to make yourself come.”

“I will,” she huffed, her body wound so tight she could barely think straight. “I will, my sweet boy. I’ll give us both what we want. I’m so close.”

It didn’t take long after that; even when she faltered, Jeong In’s frantic bucking from under her wouldn’t let up. It didn’t take any more than another fifteen seconds for her to fall apart, gasping and moaning as she came over his cock, the feeling euphoric while being so completely full.

“Jeong In,” she whimpered, feeling it absolutely necessary that she say his name, that he know this orgasm was for him, “Jeong In, fuck.”

“Yes, love,” he moaned, and the endearment made her heart skip. “That’s it. You feel so good.”

She nodded deliriously. “I want more. I need more, Jeong In.”

“How do you want it?” he asked, meeting her eyes, their bodies still for the moment, his hard cock still fully embedded in her.

“Switch with me,” she said, and he nodded immediately. She pulled off his cock, whimpering as his length drew against her hypersensitive walls, then lay down, letting him climb over her. He still looked a little bewildered from feeling her climax on him.

“This isn’t your first time, is it?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“It isn’t,” he confirmed. She grinned, her innocent question giving way to the insurmountable urge to tease.

“Good,” she said. “Then I won’t have to worry about you being unable to give me what I want.”

He paused from where he had just lined his cockhead up with her entrance. “And what’s that, exactly?” he asked, his voice low, giving the impression of fraying self-control.

“I want it as hard and as deep as you can give me,” she said. “I want you to leave nothing back. I want all of you.”

For the second time that day, her words alone were enough to make him moan. This time, however, he also had a method of recourse, and that was to enter her all at once with a single sound thrust. She whined.

“That’s a good start,” she hummed. It was he who put his elbows down on the bed now, his mouth seeking hers greedily while he thrust in and out of her, each one deep and hard, but not fast. She had no doubt he would get there, but right now, she understood his desire to savor, to commit this to memory forever. Her hands traveled all over him, exploring his back, his chest and abdomen, his thighs. She squeezed his ass, and when he broke the kiss, he was blushing again.

“Jeong In,” she called softly, and he made himself look at her again. “Do you know that you’re gorgeous?”

It didn’t do anything to make his blush go away. “I know that you think so,” he answered. She smiled gently and drew him down to kiss her again.

For right now, that was enough.

When he broke the kiss to concentrate on fucking her, though, she couldn’t make herself be quiet.

“I think you’re beautiful, Jeong In. From the moment I first saw you, I thought you had been carved from stone, because a person so perfect surely couldn’t be real.”

“Stop it,” he whined, though the quickening of his hips said he enjoyed the praise.

“It’s like every single thing about you was crafted to make me crave you,” she went on, teasing his back with her nails. He made another sound that he tried desperately to trap behind his teeth. “Your voice is lovely. Your soul is so very gentle. And your cock fits my cunt perfectly.”

He couldn’t trap the sound he made then, a strangled groan as he straightened up, grabbing her hips with his strong hands and pulling her down to meet every thrust of his hips. His every stroke was rough with desperation, and, from the tightness in his muscles, she knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“I only hope you feel it, too,” she added.

“I do,” he gasped. “Fuck, you’re perfect for me.”

“Perfect enough to wring your cock dry?”

His eyes went wide, no longer deliriously chasing his high, his gaze locked with hers as she felt the first pump of his cum inside her.

“Shit, I—”

“Come here,” she all but demanded, and he laid his body out over hers, little bucks of his hips accompanying each pump of him as he emptied inside her, moaning through his high. She wrapped her arms around his torso, trailed kisses over his shoulder, and he shuddered, his panted breaths hot on her neck.

When he finished, he pushed up onto his elbows, searching her face. He looked like he was experiencing a dozen emotions simultaneously.

“I didn’t mean to come inside you,” he blurted out. “We didn’t talk about it beforehand and I have no idea if that was what you wanted. I’m so sorry.”

“Did it feel good?” she asked him. He hesitated, then nodded, looking embarrassed. She trailed her fingertips along his cheek.

“Then it’s all right,” she said. He was still for a moment, then nodded again. He buried his face back in her neck and stayed there for at least a whole minute.

He truly hadn’t meant to fill her up like that, yet he was so relieved he didn’t have to take it back. Truthfully, his orgasm had hit him so suddenly that he hadn’t even had enough time to pull out and come on her stomach like he’d originally intended.

It was her fault, really, though he would never say those words out loud. Receiving only endearments or only dirty talk from her would have been enough to rattle his brains, but having to deal with both commingled like that? He’d never stood a chance. How could she offer him nearly every reassurance he’d ever craved, and then punctuate the sentiments with absolute filth?

He wanted her to do it again. He wanted to do it all again.

When he’d finally regained a reasonable amount of composure, he pushed himself off of her, removing his softening cock from her messy cunt. Gods, she looked so gorgeous, sticky with their aftermath.

He must have stared for too long, because she asked, “See something you like?”

He tore his eyes away from her heat to look her in the face, giving her a couple of tiny nods. “We look good together,” he said. She smiled, and he couldn’t help mirroring the expression.

“Can we clean up together . . . ?” she asked softly, as though there was any world in which he would deny her that request, any world in which he would just leave her here alone after all that.

“Of course,” he said. “We may as well take a bath together, since, as you pointed out earlier, we’re still sweaty from sparring.”

Her smile turned to a full grin. “You kept your promise, too. We did get sweatier.”

He laughed, helping her up from the bed. They went to the adjacent bathing room so he could draw them a bath. He’d always felt that the tubs in the royal suites were excessively sized, far too big for one person, but now he was glad of it.

They soaked for a while, keeping close to one another, never more than a hand’s distance away, and most often less than that. They kept bumping shoulders and legs, and Jeong In wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

After they’d washed and dressed, Jeong In told one of the attendants to bring their dinner to the queen’s rooms, and another to go to the king’s wing and bring back several sets of his clothes. He wasn’t ready to return to the world as it had been, nor did she seem in any hurry to see him go.

He dressed in fresh clothes once they’d arrived, and they ate together in yet another of the adjoining rooms. She asked if he would stay the night with her, and he agreed instantly.

As they wound down their evening and got ready for bed, Jeong In couldn’t keep her eyes off her. It was a struggle to keep his hands off her, which was monumental for him. He’d never before felt such a strong urge to be in constant casual contact with someone. When she asked if she had to wear clothes to bed, he laughed.

“It’s your bed. Wear whatever you want, or don’t wear whatever you want. I don’t mind.”

In the end, she climbed into bed almost completely naked, and Jeong In abandoned his shirt in kind. They lay facing one another, her head pillowed on his arm, when her expression turned thoughtful.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Who was king before you? Your father?”

Jeong In shook his head. “No, my father has been gone for a while. It was my older brother.”

“What happened to him . . . ?”

“I’m sure by now you’ve felt just how oppressive Black Seoul is as we’ve worked to maintain the wards,” he began. She nodded. “That’s because Black Seoul isn’t just some mindless force trying to eat away at our world. It has a will of its own, and it hates being thwarted. For that, anytime it finds an opening, it seeks to punish us.”

“What do you mean?”

“My older brother started to lose his mind. The longer he worked on the wards, the more his sanity was eaten away. Eventually, he was no longer able to maintain the wards, so I took over. I’ve been lucky. So far the only things Black Seoul has done to me are suck the color out of my hair and give me nightmares.”

She looked a little surprised and unsettled to hear that. He wondered, with equal stabs of worry and grief, what form Black Seoul’s vengeance would have on her.

“That probably has more to do with the magic in your blood, I’d wager,” she said thoughtfully. “There have been ice savants who applied their talents as barrier masters. In the absence of formal training, your affinity probably manifested in the wards.”

He frowned a little. Had his family been going about all this incorrectly for generations? Had they been stunting their own efficacy the entire time, measuring purely for power rather than affinity?

She gently touched his face, as though she could smooth his expression. It worked.

“Where is your brother now?”

“I sent him away,” Jeong In said. “I thought the further he was from the veil and the wards, the more his mental state would improve. I sent my younger brother with him, partially to protect him, and partially to motivate myself. I didn’t want to let myself think for a second that I could fall back on him. I don’t want him to suffer.”

“You’re a good man, Jeong In,” she murmured, moving closer and wrapping an arm around him.

“You say that a lot,” he muttered, as though he could brush it away.

“I mean it,” she said. “White Seoul couldn’t ask for a better king, and neither could I.”

Jeong In held her tightly to him until he fell asleep. No terrors came for him that night.

#kpop smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #jeongin smut #i.n smut #jeongin x oc #i.n x oc #jeongin oneshot #i.n oneshot

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inkowl13 · 11 days

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04. Which Horse was your first purchase? Do you still own that horse, and what did you name it?

20. What part of the Main Story is your favorite?

29. What's your favorite location in the game? Is it even available yet, or do you yearn for it from different games/mediums?

4. Oooh. I think it was an Irish cob? I'm tired of slowly moving through the Valley of the Hidden Dinosaur. But I don’t remember his name, since I sold him.

20. Mmm. I think this is the quest with the witch Pi and the plot to transform Concorde from a foal into an adult horse. To be more precise, quests in the library of Fort Maria and Devil's Gap.

29. Galloper's keep, Mistfall, Wildwoods, Devil's Gap, the updated Hollow woods (although there are parts that confuse me), the portal room in the Fort Maria library. And what the Valley of Golden Hills looks like during the Haunted trail ride.

#star stable online #sso #star stable #starstableonline #starstable #ssoblr #STAR STABLE ASKS

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pixelchills · 1 year

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What trauma does Luan have? Do both these poor boys have PTSD?

Luan's trauma comes from a few factors, but one of them is more of the fact that he feels a lot of guilt about how much his parents have sacrificed for his sake.

His parents lost friends, had to move from the city to the little town and get new jobs etc because their son was an Animutant. They had to plan all of their trips and visits in a way that they could have Luan safely with them, which also meant not being able to do certain things or go to certain places.

They moved to the little town and Luan's parents took over Luan's grandma's bookstore. Luan's grandma was very old-fashioned and religious. During the few years they lived together, she blamed Luan for every inconvenience because he was "the devil's advocate". Luan was literally like 7 or 8 during this time.

After his grandmother died a couple of years after, some old folks in the town whispered around that she had died because of Luan: either he had caused her so much stress that she had died from it, or he had cursed her.

Luan didn't have many friends growing up. Most of his 'friends' were his sister's friends who just took him to play with them because they wanted to be polite. However, some of them, like Valerie's (=Luan older sister) first boyfriend made it really obvious that he wanted to bully him and even though they're now adults, this guy just keeps coming back to the bookstore just to mock and continues bullying Luan. You know, the classic small town "bad boy". (Valerie broke up with him because of this exact reason).

Eventually, when Luan was a teenager, he finally got his own friends from online communities. Mostly it was a small group of people playing co-op games together. Luan never told them he was a mutant and kept his appearance secret. Internet was his saviour from loneliness, he could be seen just as "Luan" rather than an Animutant, and he felt equal to the people he played with.

There was a guy named Joel in that small online group who became really close to Luan, and they started to even develop romantic feelings for each other. Luan told Joel about the truth of his identity, begging him to keep it a secret from the others in the group. Joel promised this and said it doesn't change his feelings, so the two of them started dating.

Joel was a couple years older than Luan, (Luan was about 16 at the time), but he had a bit of a problem with money. Luan made a lot of purchases online for the games and other stuff for Joel.

After about two months of dating, Joel sorted a meet-up in a town about a four-hour train ride from Luan's home town which was mutant-friendly.

Luan was so excited to see his boyfriend irl for the first time, but he was met with Joel and a couple of other guys, who filmed him and his secret for the whole group to see. Luan was technically kicked out of the friend group and harassed online until he just completely deleted all of his profiles and games.

#asks #pixelchills ocs #luan

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isfjmel-phleg · 4 months

Text

The Saga of Ray's Refrigerator

As discussed by the editor and writer, The Ray 1994 is in part "about a guy who needs to buy a refrigerator." Readers evidently took that to heart, like D. B. Bennett here:

Does Ray ever get that fridge the minute he really needs it? Why a refrigerator? Why is it important?

Story time!

After the death of the uncle whom Ray grew up believing was his father, their house had to be sold to cover legal fees. Ray goes apartment hunting on a small budget with no credit, and the best he can do is a shabby one-room place over a pizza restaurant. There's a huge, hideous sculpture in one corner, but no refrigerator. Note the place beside the stove that suggests that there must have been a refrigerator there at some point.

(The Ray 1994 #1)

This demonstrates the level of squalor that he has sunk to, as well as the fact that he hasn't really "made it" as an adult on his own yet--he doesn't have all the basic household necessities. He's not really ready to take on life.

The lack of a refrigerator is the first thing everyone points out upon entering the apartment, everyone from Ray's father...

(#5)

...to a random burgler.

(#11)

A repeated reminder of his inadequacy as an adult.

At one point, Ray intends to go shopping for a list of household necessities, including a refrigerator, but instead he purchases a huge Superman poster and a stereo he can't really afford. Money management is apparently another thing he never learned during his isolated upbringing, and his priorities are still those of a child--things he wants before things he needs.

(#6)

Of course, it's not just Ray's immaturity that's keeping him from that refrigerator. Writer Christopher Priest on his website provides a more in-depth account of Ray's attempts to purchase a refrigerator and how difficult this is for someone with no real-world experience in an era before online shopping:

Ray Terrill wants to buy a refrigerator. Folded into a tiny second-floor walkup over Shahid's Famous Pizza in North Philadelphia, Ray's been keeping his milk and cheese out on the fire escape to keep it cool. But now that spring has arrived, he needs an actual ice box. Problem is, Ray's watched the Home Shopping Club virtually non-stop for six days, and they haven't offered a refrigerator. None of the mail-order catalogs that come to his house display any, either. The chilling realization washes over him: if he wants the refrigerator, he's going to have to go out and get it. Ray's had lots of bad luck interacting with the real world. Having spent most of his life indoors, Ray's perception of the world at large (and American society in specific) has been shaped almost entirely by mass media. His "light sensitivity" disease ultimately exposed as a lie, Ray, at eighteen years of age, has been thrust into a world that bears little resemblance to the one he's read about. Ray doesn't know how to drive. Or ride a bike. Ray has never even seen a coin-operated laundry machine. Or a subway turnstile. Ray's never been to the bank. Or church. Ray was startled and impressed to find stand-up urinals in restaurant men's rooms. It earned him a black eye when he remarked, "Wow. Look at that!" as another patron relieved himself. He was a washout as a cashier for a fast-food restaurant because he'd never seen curly fries. Clearly taking a bus downtown to the nearest K-Mart and buying a refrigerator is, for Ray, a major challenge; one fraught with anxiety. [...] At the K-Mart, Ray realizes he has no money. He tries to open a charge account to buy the fridge, but is denied credit because he has no credit history. No one will give Ray a credit card until someone else does. Staring incredulously at the blank-eyed clerk, Ray remarks, "But, yesterday I saved the universe..." The clerk suggests Ray move along.

Once Ray starts working for Vandal Savage, he moves into a luxurious condo with all the amenities, including, presumably, a refrigerator. But even so, the quest for this appliance is such a habit with him that when offered his greatest desire by the demon Neron, the first thing he can think of that he wants is...

(#19)

Besides, Ray knows that the life he's currently living is a sham. He's got a prestigious job and wears fancy clothes and has a rooftop hot tub, but it's all an act to keep him out of the eye of his deadly creation Death Masque. Underneath it all, he's still a nineteen-year-old who still needs to buckle down to the task of furnishing his own first place.

He may technically have a refrigerator now, but at what cost? We don't see the condo's refrigerator in the main timeline, but we get a good long look at it from the inside in a version of 2016 in which forty-year-old Ray has gone evil after letting the power and status of working for (and eventually supplanting) Savage go to his head. By now, the refrigerator is not just a symbol of adult achievement but also of the emptiness of ill-gotten wealth and status. Forty-year-old Ray is too preoccupied with business phone calls to even use the refrigerator himself--this is his girlfriend getting him a soda.

(#25)

Back in the main timeline, Ray, with some intervention from his girlfriend from the future, who has time-traveled back to prevent his going evil, quits working for Savage, which means giving up the condo (and presumably returning to his old place). This is hard for him, because...

(#28)

So by the end of the series, he is just as refrigerator-less as he started. But the refrigerator was never the real point. What he does have is the restoration of his integrity, a more mature and less self-centered outlook, and new connections with a mother and brother he didn't even know he had when he moved into that one-room apartment. What greater signs could there be of finally becoming a real adult?

#comicsposting again #RT: born with the light #Ray's solo is a bildungsroman #all of the 90s young heroes' solos are actually #but Ray's in particular is concerned with what makes one truly an adult more so than the others because he *is* technically of age

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beneath-her-soul · 7 months

Text

Time check: 0837hrs

Location: Train otw to work

I'm feeling a lil bit anxious right now. I don't know if I can make it on time to chase after the company's transport and also I'm still having dry cough and it's been like this for the past 3 days. I would also like to take my mind off by writing so I feel much calmer.

Over the last weekend, I spend my off days with Mr Husband by going to our first Halloween Horror Night at USS! I've never been to this event during my younger days as I never like crowds, horror, tickets are pricey and I was still schooling and it normally ends late at night hence, I need to have enough money so that I can actually pay for the tickets and taxi fare back home. In summary, it just cost expensive for me to pay for everything because I wasn't yet a working adult and I have curfew.

Mr Husband bought the tickets to surprise me as both of us are virgins for this event and since we're already married, why not right? He made sure I blocked off the date and told me not to make any plans. I was so excited and looking forward to it because it's been awhile since he come up with something for us.

After night shift, I slept for the entire 5hrs and woke up at 5pm to wash up and get ourselves prepared. H told me to wear something comfortable with my tokidoki bag and sports shoe as we're gonna be walking alot on that night. While I was doing my make up, I asked him if we're watching a concert lol 😂 Idk I just want to find out more to see if he's able to keep up with the surprise.

I was terrified at first bcs lol like I told you, I am never a fan of anything horror as it stresses the shit out of me and furthermore, it just makes me overthink when I'm alone. Almost every of the haunted house, I decided to walk infront and prefer H to be at the back bcs I hate it if the ghost starts to scare me from my back like I can't see but I can feel your presence behind me. I was laughing most of the time during the haunted house experience bcs of the other people in it as they were screaming and just trying to avoid getting scare hahaha it was hella funny. I was more fascinated by the works they put it on the set up. Every haunted house has a theme for it and it was well decorated it looks real. The cast look real and they didn't broke out of character.

During the journey to the destination, I somehow got a sense that we're going to go to Sentosa judging by the route we took. We parked our bike at vivo and took the monorail to Sentosa. It was crowded since it's Saturday. (And it's been awhile since I went out on weekends). And tadaaaa, we reached USS! It was crowded as heck and we were already perspiring. Bleargh. We brought our portable fan and it was a huge life saver for us. There were 3 terrifying haunted houses and 3 sinister scare zones. And btw, H also had another surprise by purchasing the express tickets. Homaigod how much have he spent in total just for these. Makes me feel guilty that he's spending so much just for this. But then again, it's worth it bcs the queue was insaneeeee for each of the haunted houses. I think I might just give it a pass if H didn't buy the express tickets.

The last haunted house we went to was The Weeknd: After hours til dawn nightmare. All you see was...... The weeknd, his chopped off head, everything of him. I'm just like 😮 I don't listen to his music but I knew who he was. I was really horrified and disgusted. The Botox face, just everything. But it was well executed I must say.

We did get to ride on mummy and transformers at least. The atmosphere was so lively as it's been such a long time since I attended something like this. Something that makes me feel alive. You know? I've been walking in circles over the last few months and going to this event at 29 years old, hits me differently.

We ended off our night at 0030hrs and head our way home. I kept thanking the husband for the surprise and it was memorable experience for first timers. Alhamdulillah, bucketlist ✅

Update: I made it to catch for my bus.

#halloween horror nights #life #journaling #spilled thoughts

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shadowqueen402 · 7 months

Text

Now, it's time to introduce the children of the twelve adults! Meet Ethan Campbell, one of Aria's cousins.

Parents:

Thomas Campbell (father)

Katherine Campbell (née Montgomery) (mother)

Grandparents:

Finn Campbell (paternal grandfather)

Evelyn Campbell (paternal grandmother)

Richard Montgomery (maternal grandfather)

Hazel Montgomery (maternal grandmother)

Other relatives:

Owen Campbell (paternal uncle)

Roy Montgomery (née Campbell) (paternal uncle)

Isla Montgomery (née Campbell) (paternal aunt)

Yvette Campbell (paternal aunt)

Heather Montgomery (née Campbell) (paternal aunt)

Scarlett Campbell (née Montgomery) (maternal aunt)

Esme Montgomery (maternal aunt)

Irvin Montgomery (maternal uncle)

Oliver Campbell (née Montgomery) (maternal uncle)

James Montgomery (maternal uncle)

George Campbell (cousin)

Aria Montgomery (cousin)

Irvin Montgomery (cousin)

Josephine Campbell (cousin)

Mia Campbell (cousin)

Logan Campbell (cousin)

Freya Montgomery (cousin)

Jonas Montgomery (née Olson) (cousin-in-law, deceased)

Interesting facts about Ethan:

Ethan's name is of Hebrew origin, meaning "firm", "enduring", "strong", and "long-lived".

Currently, Ethan is single at the moment. But he hopes to find the right lady to spend the rest of his life with. His ideal woman would be someone who is family-oriented, an animal lover, and very loyal to him.

Ethan was the first of the eight granchildren to learn about Prim's existence. To say that he was disappointed in that madwoman's actions was a huge understanding. That was why he decided to work alongside with his father as a tech expert when he grew up.

Since he was four, he had dreamed of being able to ride a motorcycle of his own. So he would save up lots of money for the day that he would purchase his own motorcycle. When he began attending college, he bought his motorcycle with his own money.

Ethan has his own gun that he uses for self-defense. He keeps it with him and won't pull it out unless someone is threatening him and/or his family and friends. He even has a taser and pepper spray that he made by himself.

#balan wonderworld #ocs

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uknowyato · 1 year

Text

Hatori Yoshiyuki no baai volume 1: chapter 2

This is a repost from my old blog. Old chapters will be coming every Thursday until I catch up. Please enjoy.

Disclaimer:‌‌ ‌‌I‌ ‌do‌ ‌not‌ ‌own‌ ‌Sekaiichi‌ ‌Hatsukoi,‌ Hatori Yoshiyuki no baai ‌and the characters within the stories. Please support Shungiku Nakamura by purchasing the official emerald releases. Thank you!

Raw cre‌dits go to the lovely youmeandteddybears ‌on tumblr.

Masterlist: {01 | 02}

He didn’t want to go to work.

That was his first thought when he woke up in the morning. In the beginning of the week, Hatori felt unmotivated just like any other adult. Nevertheless, he had duties and responsibility, so he headed out for work.

It had been a long while since Hatori had spent the weekend like a normal couple would. Well, you could even say it was the first time they ever spent time like a normal couple.

We weren’t even disturbed by Yanase, which was unusual.

He stayed over at Yoshino's house on Friday night. They went to the grocery store on Saturday and he made Yoshino help prepare the meals. Then they stayed at home catching up with a TV series they recorded.

A delivery man came at noon, which was a surprise to him. Yoshino had ordered a cake from this popular bakery, Buche de Noel. Which meant he had planned this weekend beforehand. He was thrilled that his surprise was a success.

Seeing Hatori who couldn't hide his surprise, Yoshino said as he put on a smug face, “Didn't expect that, did you?”

“I can get things done when I put my mind to it!” in Yoshino’s own words.

To think that Yoshino actually cared about Christmas? And it wasn’t even for his manga’s story plot? Hatori wouldn’t be surprised if hell had frozen over.

If not, then this must be his imagination, or a dream. Although there was no sign that he would be waking up soon, so this must be reality.

It was almost time to finish up his work for the year. As long as there were no major problems, Hatori would be able to kick back and relax on New Years.

This year was definitely a lot more peaceful than usual. So far, none of his work was running late. In other words, Yoshino didn’t have any urgent tasks either. There was still time before the game packaging’s color manuscript’s due date, and the story plot finished up quicker than usual. There were no issues at this point, which only made Hatori worry something bad might happen.

...Thinking negatively won't do me any good though

Yoshino had been working hard, so he was making quite a lot of progress.

Meeting a set deadline should be a given, but when you’ve known him for so long it felt like a miracle. They were both tired of how they were always negative, but keeping their feelings for so long, they were not quite adjusted to being content and happy like now.

Going to the office on Monday felt harder than ever, but that didn’t mean he was going to allow himself to be late. Waking up at the same time each morning, riding the same train, and ploping on his desk before 9 o’clock was how he always operated.

When he walked up the slope heading for the office, he felt someone drawing closer from behind him.

"Good morning!” That lively voice, it must be Henmi from Sales. He slowed down and turned around.

"Good morning."

“Hatori-san, you're always early. Even though everyone else in the editorial department is more chill because of the flexible hours.”

“My head is clearer when I get there earlier.”

His work progressed better in the morning. Maybe because it was easier for him to focus when there was less people and noise around. Besides, if he was going to work the same hours it was better to come early and go home before it was late.

“Oh, by the way, I want to discuss Yoshino’s comics campaign next year, do you have time?”

“Sure, I think I can do that tomorrow morning. But I'll let you know after checking my schedule. Just in case."

He had a thousand things to do, but an hour shouldn’t be a problem. It was better to handle the smaller projects sooner rather than later.

“Thank you! Oh yeah, the book store was very pleased with the autographed illustration that Yoshino drew. Could you thank him for me?"

“That's good to hear. Let me know if you need anything else."

The other day, Yoshino did an illustration for the bookstore exhibition because he couldn't accept the offer to hold an autograph session. He felt awful for not being able to accept the invitation.

"Chiharu Yoshino" often got offers for autograph sessions. However he refused all of them without any exceptions because he didn’t want anyone to know he was actually a man.

He didn't mean to hide that fact at first, but it became more difficult to bring up as he gained popularity. He thought the fans would be accepting if it ever went public, however Yoshino didn’t want to ruin the image his readers had. He wanted the audience to purely enjoy his work without any assumptions.

That was the reason he only did written interviews, and any comments were kept to a bare minimum. In return, he was willing to go to lengths with the bookstore to please fans. No matter how busy he was, Yoshino would always accept.

“I apologize regarding the autograph session the other day.”

"No, don't worry about it. Many writers like to keep to themselves, right? The other day I was forced to fill in a host because they didn’t have enough people at an event. I understand it’s a lot of pressure to appear in front of people.”

As he listened to Henmi, they arrived at the office building. They parted ways at the elevator, and he headed to the upper floors. As expected, there was no one on the comics floor yet. He hung his coat and sat on his desk. He turned on the PC and went through his emails. There were a lot of things that needed to be checked, as per usual.

Why were there so many things that needed urgent confirmation at the end of the week? Things would go a lot smoother if they send it on Friday morning at least. That was what he always thought to himself.

He couldn’t help letting his thoughts wander towards such inane things in the morning.

Just as we have our circumstances, they have their own.

As much as he was fed up with putting in the three-digit for new emails, he pulled himself together and started to sort through them. Sorting them by subject, he started replying to the ones with the closest deadlines.

He checked for any typos on the obi’s design for the campaign, along with forwarding it to the artist for confirmation. He also had to submit the advertisement design for the manga by the end of the day. That and print out a multiple paged proposal for confirmation. He would also like to finish the circulation request application and begin to put together the synopsis for the manga.

People think that being an editor was a highly creative job. Of course, that was one aspect of the job, but there was also a lot of negotiation with various departments and detailed paperwork.

The process of clearing away the piles upon piles of work and making it smaller was something he greatly enjoyed. He was always good at working hard, and can work better as long as he can see the results.

“Good morning, Hatori-san.” As he was immersing himself in his work, another editor had come to work. He looked up when he was approached, and saw that it was Onodera Ritsu, the youngest in the Emerald editing department.

“Good morning.”

He had joined the company midway through his career, and was apparently in charge of literature at his previous company. He had no experience in manga editing before coming to Marukawa Shoten, but his diligence and hard work have made him an indispensable member of the editorial department.

He had the title of “the son of Onodera publishing”, but it wasn’t a particularly important piece of information when it came to his work. His connections had nothing to do with his work.

“Today is the day of the magazine line up. I can’t get used to this day no matter how many times it comes. I always end up going to the bookstore on the day it goes on sale.”

“That’s right. I usually go to the bookstore on the day it goes on sale.”

“Wait, you too Hatori-san?”

“Of course. I’m interested in both the sales and the reactions.”

Hatori always felt anxious around the release date of magazines and comics, and he worried about the sales and reputation.

He appreciated the numbers given to him by the sales staff, but he felt a sense of relief when he could actually see them being taken to the checkout counter.

“I thought Hatori-san would have a more calm and composed attitude.”

"That’s not true. Well, I just don’t let it show on my face.”

Hatori had the normal emotional ups and downs like everyone else, but he had a hard time letting them show. Even as a child, he was often told that he was calm for his age, but that was probably because he had the expressive Yoshino by his side.

“Oh, that's right! The manuscript will be submitted as soon as the vacations are over. How is Yoshikawa-sensei's progress going?”

Onodera, who was in charge of progress, must have been worried about Yoshino’s work.

“It seems to be going better than usual. We're at the rough sketch stage.”

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“It’s been okay for now. You can relax, you’ll see what happens in the end.”

The reason he couldn’t let go was because of past experiences. It was only when you let your guard down that things got even worse. The more prepared you were, the less likely you were to panic when the time came.

He believed that Yoshino would come up with good work, and he didn’t believe that he was lying, but he didn’t trust Yoshino’s ability to manage his schedule at all.

“If you’re motivated, you’ll be fine. I’m very excited for the new year!”

Hatori couldn’t help but feel envious of Onodera’s sincerity to believe so honesty.

“I can only hope he will meet your expectations,” he said, staring at the calendar on his desk.

“It’s that time already…?” Hatori glanced at the clock on the floor and sighed.

He had planned to leave earlier, but he had been working for just a little longer, and now time had passed.

Hatori felt like he had more extra work to do than on a normal Monday. He was also frustrated by the fact that he couldn't make as much progress as he wanted to because he was busy checking details.

I guess when something good happens, there's always something bound to happen…

However, there was no end to it if he didn't cut it off at the right time. After reviewing the synopsis of the comic that he had just finished, Hatori decided to send the writer a confirmation email and call it a day.

He checked my unanswered emails, made arrangements for work tomorrow, and was about to shut down his PC when a new email arrived.

“Hmm?”

The email was from Nakahara.

Hatori had contacted her at noon to discuss the problem she was having. She seemed to have been in trouble, but he was able to solve it without as much trouble as he had thought.

Apparently, she was able to draw the storyboard of the piece they solved and sent it to him as soon as she could. The attached file seemed to be the new two pages.

I told her that she could send it to me only after he had finished it…

He knew it was painful to want to see him right away, but it was important to hold back and think for yourself. If she didn’t, she may become dependent on him.

At the end of the email from Nakahara, she wrote, "I would like you to directly instruct me on my storyboard.”

“Directly, huh…?” There was nothing in particular that he needed to discuss in person, but Hatori wondered if it would be better to see her again before he started work.

There were times when it was more reassuring to say the same words face-to-face.

Hatori had met her twice before, once when he brought her in and another time when she was assigned to him.

At that time, she was shy and didn't say much, but as they talked on the phone and via email, she seemed to relax.

Hatori, who had been pondering how to respond, came back to reality when someone suddenly called out.

“Tori. Are you gonna come to the drinking party the day after tomorrow?”

“Yes, I will.”

The person who called out to Hatori was his coworker Kisa Shouta.

Kisa was older than Hatori, but his small frame and baby face made him look much younger. He was often mistaken for a part-timer by outsiders, but he was a full-time employee.

He was a cheerful and caring person in the Emerald editorial department, and he often helped to ease the tense atmosphere before the publication.

“Then, everyone’s attending. Be at the usual place at seven o'clock. Let me know if you're going to be late.”

“Okay.”

The day after tomorrow was the last day of work, and he was deeply happy to think that this year would soon be over.

Every year, he was so busy with his daily work that the year went by in a flash. Especially in December, the speed of the year was much faster.

“Hey, I know that serious face of yours. Is Yoshikawa-sensei's progress getting worse again?”

“No, his progress has been good so far.”

If Hatori had a problem, then it was inevitable that Yoshino’s situation would be suspected first.

“Seriously, it might actually snow before the end of the year…If it’s not Yoshikawa-sensei, then who is it?”

It was a horrible thing to say, but since Hatori thought the same thing, he supposed it was a normal reaction.

"It's not that I'm concerned about the progress.”

“Well, what are you so worried about? Tori’s sighing at work, what’s wrong?”

Kisa’s keen eye for observation was astonishing. To be honest, he didn't even realize he was sighing.

You’ve got me there…

It had been a while since Hatori had been in charge of a rookie, but he never thought he would have to worry about how to interact with an author.

“I'm having a little trouble with the author I'm in charge of now, Nakahara-san."

“Nakahara-san? Oh, you mean the new girl! She's really good at drawing, isn't she? Her prize-winning work was quite easy to read, it seems like she'll be popular if she makes her characters more traditional.”

“I think so too.” That was why he spent so much time on the plot. The story he was working on now was the first one that they were working on together.

In a world where fads came and went, no one knew what kind of work would be successful.

Still, he could use the know-how he had accumulated as an editor to widen the scope of his work and make its merits more visible to readers.

To put it another way, It was the writer's job to forge the jewel and an editor's job was to help polish said jewel. But he couldn’t teach her how to polish it and help her.

“Didn't Takano-san give you the OK for the plot the other day? Aren't you working on the storyboard now?”

Hatori had asked Kisa to read through the plot before it was completed. As the reader changes, so do their thoughts. Opinions from a different perspective were valuable.

“I heard that she was stuck on the storyboard. She has a lot of talent, but she doesn't seem to have confidence in it, so she's having a hard time.”

He couldn’t say for sure without seeing the final product, but at the moment Hatori didn’t see any major problems with the storyboard.

Hatori thought that the panels were a little too detailed, but it depended on the balance of the whole that he would fix. At that point, it was hard to judge.

The parts that were bothering him were things that he could overcome if he thought about it.

It would be easy for Hatori to intervene, but if she let the editor's opinion dictate everything, he would lose track of whose work it was.

“I used to say, "Well, you can't help it in the beginning. I'm often told, ‘The more you fix it, the less you understand it.’ I guess we'll just have to let them finish.”

“I told her that, but she kept asking me to check every second page. I'd give her advice, but it's hard to give partial advice.”

“Oh… that’s tricky… So it's the mental part that needs to be followed up on, right?"

Kisa folded his arms and fell silent with a serious look on his face. He wasn’t sure what to do, but he was sure she would be fine.

Of course, in the end, it was a problem that the writer had to overcome on her own. However, as her editor, there were some aspects that he could support.

What Hatori was worried about was that he may have interfered too much in the beginning, because he wanted to bring out the best in a talent that was still in its infancy.

"Are you sure you're saying it's interesting, or are you just being paranoid about compliments?"

There were times when Hatori felt so insecure that he felt as if every affirmation had an ulterior motive.

In such cases, he tried to make them understand that he was telling them the truth by sharing why he thought it was theoretically interesting or pointing out the parts that weren't so good.

In fact, it was more troublesome to have someone blindly follow you. Hatori didn’t want people to abandon their thinking and leave everything to the editor.

However, Hatori’s recent concern with Nakahara was that this tendency was becoming stronger.

“I've been wondering about that when you asked me to give you firsthand guidance.”

The fact that she wanted to meet with him meant that even though Hatori had tried to tell her over the phone and by e-mail that it would be interesting and that there was nothing to worry about, she still hadn't shaken off her anxiety.

“What? You mean the author asked you to meet her?”

“Yes. I think it might be better to talk to her face-to-face again to ease her nervousness.”

“...Are you sure about that?” Kisa gave him an uneasy look.

“About what?”

“Well, the fact that she asked to see you is a bit of a problem…”

“I'm worried that she's a little dependent on me, but I'm sure she'll calm down once she gets used to me.”

"No. But look, of course if Tori thinks meeting up is a good idea then you should go for it. But, you know, be careful and don’t get too involved.”

He knew what Kisa was worried about when he gave him such advice. To put it bluntly, he wanted to make sure she didn't fall in love with Hatori.

Not that he was being conceited, but it wasn't as if that hadn't happened to him before. He thought Kisa was worried about Hatori because it reminded him of the past.

Most authors keep their work and their private lives separate, but there were some who merge the two.

In the midst of the seriousness and closeness of the relationship between editor and writer, there was a tendency to perceive it as a personal tension.

“I know. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything rash.”

For now, Hatori didn’t plan on seeing her right away because Nakahara's progress wasn’t particularly urgent and there were many other things that were more pressing.

He was sure they would have time to discuss it when the storyboard was finished.

“I hope you're right. Tori is very popular with writers. Every time I go to a party, writers always ask me, ‘Is Hatori-san still single?’ You’re so honest and devoted that it would be deceitful to make them dream that you’re still single~”

“I'm just doing my job.”

Hatori did things differently depending on the type of author, but he didn’t give special treatment to any of the authors he worked with, and he didn’t dare cut corners.

Of course, as people, he didn’t do anything that might upset them. He was drawing a firm line in the sand.

......Except for Yoshino.

In fact, there was no author that took as much time to write as Yoshino. If you asked him, he would deny he was playing favorites. To be exact, he spent extra time with him due to his personal feelings.

Normally, Hatori wouldn’t cook a meal, clean the house, or do the laundry just because an author asked him to.

Of course, as his childhood friend, he was just helping out, but he had never thought of it as his job as an editor.

That was why Hatori made sure to switch it on and off and give Yoshino as much private time as possible.

“That’s just normal.”

“Is there a problem?”

“No, what’s normal for Tori may strike a nerve with a girl.”

“I mean, you've got a lot of older authors who like you.”

“They just think I'm easy to tease and I'm not serious. It's fine if you're like Takano-san, but Tori's serious.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

Just as his name came up in Hatori’s conversation with Kisa, Masamune Takano, who had just returned from a meeting, walked by.

“Ah, welcome back Takano-san.”

“Here's a souvenir. So, what were you talking about with that serious face of yours?"

Masamune Takano was the editor-in-chief of “Monthly Emerald.” Although he was younger than him, he was Hatori’s direct superior.

There was an uproar in many ways when he joined the company.

One of the reasons was that he was a mid-career hire from another company who was selected as the editor-in-chief with great fanfare. But what attracted more attention was his appearance.

It was mainly the female employees who were in an uproar. Surrounded by these women, whose eyes had lit up, they were asked, "Does Takano have a girlfriend? Is he single?” He remembered well how Kisa crawled away from them.

Even now, he seemed to have many fans within the company, and there were several female employees who tried to give him gifts on his birthday and Valentine's Day.

Takano refused all birthday gifts, and on Valentine's Day, he accepted gifts from the entire editorial department, but every year there were a few gifts that looked to be chocolate.

He didn’t keep track of his private life, but he guessed a man like Takano had a certain partner. He must be having a smooth relationship.

His work ethic was nothing short of talent. He was one of the best hit-makers in the company, strict with himself and others, and Hatori had never seen him cut corners.

At his previous company, he had been an editor of a boys' magazine and had no experience with girls' magazines, but he was able to turn around Monthly Emerald, which was on the verge of collapse due to a drastic drop in circulation, within a year.

Everyone acknowledged that the Monthly Emerald of today would not have been possible without Takano. That was why the editorial staff, including himself, were following him.

“I told Tori to watch out for her, because he was popular with writers.”

"What, are you being pursued?”

It seemed that Takano's perception was not so different from Kisa's. Looking at it from the other side, Hatori wondered to himself if he was so naive.

“No, that's not what I meant…”

“I'm not sure yet, but I'm pretty sure he will be. I feel like his guard is looser than before."

“Wait. I'm not so sure about that.” He countered Kisa's assurances with certainty, but he was starting to feel a little unsure.

“Because that's what you want to see at this time of year.”

“By ‘this time of year,’ do you mean Christmas? And it's not like I said she wanted to see me.”

“To be precise, she said, ‘I want you to help me directly’” The nuance was a little different. If she was more concerned about the event, she would have approached him earlier.

"Is it like asking for direct guidance? In fact, I wanted you to ask me to meet with you, but it didn't work out, so you asked me yourself.”

“I think that's too much of a guess…”

Perhaps because of Hatori’s profession, the editor of a girl's magazine had a slow imagination when it came to this kind of topic. The reason he couldn’t just laugh it off as overthinking was that Kisa's suspicions were highly accurate.

“Tori, you're very popular with serious and reserved girls, aren't you? Many of the girls who go for Takano-san are fans, but in Tori's case, there are a lot of serious girls.”

(illustration)

"That’s true.” He was at a loss for words to reply when Takano so bluntly affirmed.

“So, who asked you to meet up?"

“…The new rookie I’m in charge of, Nakahara-san.”

“Oh, that's her. She used to be shy, but she's grown quite fond of Hatori, hasn't she? I mean, you just finished the plot the other day. What do you do for immediate guidance?”

“It seems that the storyboard is not going well, and she's getting impatient. At the moment, it's about a third of the way through…”

“Yes. I think it’s a bit too frequent.”

“To be honest, I’m worried too.”

“What?”

“You seemed to be in touch with her a lot. You've been answering the phone with a despondent face, and I've been wondering about it.”

When he was on his desk and answering the phone, it was easy to guess who they were talking to. Takano, the chief editor, seemed to be concerned about Hatori’s situation.

To be honest, he wasn't without his concerns, but Hatori didn't expect him to be that concerned about him. He may be in a more precarious situation than he realized.

It was his belief that when he was in charge of something, Hatori should put all his effort into it. However, if that caused misunderstandings, then he needed to reconsider how he interacted with them.

"I'm sorry to have caused you so much concern.”

“No, it's my fault for assigning her to you. I should have been a little more discerning of the type. If Kisa is right, you might want to take over as soon as possible.”

“...You’re right.” It was true that it was harder to do things when there were feelings that were non-work related. It may be necessary to take her feelings into consideration.

It was very possible that she was just respecting him as her first editor.

“Well, there's no point in mulling it over. Now is not the time. I'll just have to accept it.”

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“It pains me to be bothering you with something outside of work. It's my own inadequacies that make me worry.”

“It's not your place to apologize. There’s nothing for you to apologize for, but since we're going to make something good, I hope it goes well.”

“Yes.”

Hatori surrendered to Takano's encouragement. Hatori told himself that the only thing he could do was to do his best to produce the best product.

#sekaiichi hatsukoi #sekai ichi hatsukoi #sih #sih domestica #torichia #hatori yoshiyuki #yoshino chiaki #hatori yoshiyuki no baai #it's the queue shot #lilly's translations

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