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#this baby just arrived today <333 I’m in love with it

astrolynnworld · 3 months

Text

warmhearted reveals

pairing: matt x reader

summary: you tell matt that you’re pregnant

warnings: fluff! love, romance, confessions, reassurance.

word count: 656

i prepared a nice dinner for when matt comes home so i can tell him the big news.

i can’t tell if he’ll be excited, shocked, or anxious. this is a big step in our lives, and i just hope he supports it

we have talked about wanting kids in the past, but we haven’t discussed goal, time, or plan.

i anticipate his arrival at the door as i let the food simmer on the stove for a little longer.

“baby? i’m home” matt says as he walks in through the front door

i go to greet him with a kiss and hug

“someone’s in a good mood today” he smiles as he sets down his stuff into the nearby office room

“you hungry? i made your favorite!” i gleefully share as he follows me to the kitchen

“duh!” he joking says, “it smells so good bae”

i prepare a plate for him before we sit across the dinner table

“how was work today?” i question

“it was great actually..”

“really? how so?” i follow up

“sucks to say but, one of the head managers of the inquiries office had gotten fired today because he violated one of the company policies, right?” he starts

“mhm” i acknowledge

“so they needed someone to take his job, and the head boss had put in a good word for me because he sees my progress in the job and says that i’ve been working hard for the last few months now.” he continues

“oh my god!! really? that’s so good baby. so what’s gonna happen?” i further ask

“well. today they had discussed it over a board meeting and went over some of my latest work to decide if i would be a good fit on the team and .. they all agreed.”

“BABY!!! that’s such great news oh my godd!! i’m so happy for you!! so you basically got promoted to the higher ups of the office right?” i proudly support

“yeah! and they’re raising my pay my 50%” he shares

“i’m so so happy for you matt!! great news all around. more money to go towards us and the baby!!” i quickly slip out

“what?” he questions

a smile plasters across my face

“i’m pregnant baby.”

he pauses and looks quickly takes a glance down at my stomach

“a- are you serious?” he anxiously stutters out

i nod my head slowly as i start to tear up

he comes around the table and kneels in front of me

“you’re not joking baby?” he says as the tears start to well up in his eyes

i shake my head no as i chuckle softly; tears starting to fall down my cheeks

he takes my hand and stands me up before embracing me into his own

“baby. we’re having a kid” he says as he tries to process his shock

“you’re pregnant with my baby right now, princess” he says as he pulls back from me

i see the tears starting to drip his face

“i can’t believe this baby. you’re really not lying to me?” he questions one more time

i grab his face and start to wipe his tears, “you’re gonna be a father, matt”

he lets his face fall into my hands as he brings his forehead to mine

“i can’t believe i’m about to start a family with you baby. it’s all i’ve ever dreamed of, since we were teenagers” he confesses

“i just can’t believe you’re really mine.” he says before kissing my forehead, “all mine.”

“i love you so so so so much, matt.” i speak out

“i love you so much more baby.” he kisses my lips, “both of you” he says as places his hand on my stomach

“why don’t you hop into bed, i’ll clean up dinner. there’s so many plans we have to discuss” he eagerly says

i laugh at his enthusiasm as i head back to the bedroom.

———————————————————————- taglist: @lenna-77 @cutiepatootie36273 @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @tropicasturn @princessbetsy123-blog <333

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justanamesstuff · 8 months

Text

The intimacy of being understood

Epilogue

Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: Okay, wasn't planning on posting today or any day soon...here we are though haha. This is the end guys :(( and its also a good bye for a while...I'll still be here to chill and chat but not writing, I'm already missing it a lot. Thanks again and again and FOREVER for all the support you all always give me, means the absolute world to me <333 Happy reading!

Warnings: just FLUFF AND LOVE (i think we all need a bit of that haha), typos.

Word count: 1.4 K

Blog Masterlist Series Masterlist

Epilogue

The summer breeze messed with Y/n’s locks, even though that didn’t disturb her slumber. Matty ran a hand softly through the strands of hair falling on his lap. His sight admired the lake in front of them and the sun reaching every corner of the park except the place they chose for a break during that summer day.

Matty stared at the broken light –getting through the leaves of the tree above them– playing on his girlfriend’s face. His factions softened when his eyes traced every part of her beautiful face. She had fallen asleep shortly after they arrived, and he started reading out loud for her. When she proposed the idea, Matty protested saying how cheesy it was, although she only had to flutter her eyelashes and he started clearing his throat before pronouncing the first word of the book Y/n selected.

The singer's calloused hands touched slightly her forehead, drawing lines along the skin, then her nose, to finish caressing the apple of her cheeks. ‘I’m a lucky bastard’, Matty thought.

After a few minutes, Y/n protested, still partially asleep, “Mmm.” she mumbled, but Matty didn’t stop.

Y/n blinked her eyes open, looking up at her boyfriend’s face, meeting his eyes. She groaned due to tiredness overtaking her senses. The quick action made Matty laugh.

“Hey, sleepy.” he whispered, feeling another breeze of air surrounding them.

Matty’s girlfriend let herself enjoy his touch, still on her face. “I’m sorry.” Y/n apologized. “Your voice and the weather are just too good.”

“Happy to help, my love.” he smiled down at her, even when her eyes were still closed.

Y/n felt her stomach move a little, and her hand instantly went to rest over her growing belly. She loved Matty with all her heart. Those simple moments of peace together were everything Y/n wanted to cherish for the rest of their lives. The intimacy they built during the past year and a half was their biggest treasure until she arrived.

When she moved looking for a better position since her back started hurting, Matty helped her. Y/n ended up sitting on his lap, with her back meeting his front. Matty’s hands met on Y/n front, caressing the skin under her blouse.

“How much did I sleep?” Y/n ask, resting her head on his shoulder.

Matty answered right away, “Probably half an hour.”

“How long until you noticed?”

“Five minutes.” he chuckled.

“Matty!”

“Don’t look at me. You looked too peaceful to wake you up, baby. Besides, you haven’t slept that well in days.”

He was the sweetest man walking the earth. Y/n took his free hand, lifting it until her lips left multiple kisses on the back of it.

“She’s being a little troublemaker already.” Matty teased.

“Mhm.”

“You’re never this tired when i fuc-”

“Matty!” Y/n protested, turning as best as she could, looking at his face. “Do I have to remind you how did I get…?

“Yes, please. I want a step by step manual of everything we did-”

Y/n frowned, saying, “Shut up.”

“I love you.” Matty replied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, making her heart melt.

The singer’s girlfriend let herself lean forward, encountering him in a sweet kiss.

After a few minutes and multiple kisses, Y/n pushed back, “I need to drop by the shop.” Matty frowned listening to her say that. “New delivery.” she clarified.

“You can do it tomorrow. I’ll help you.”

“I’ve already told Kate to help me.”

“Cheater.”

“You can help too.” she reassured him.

“I can see how this is going to be. Me doing all the hard work and you two ogling over me.”

“Excuse me?”

“I have a nice butt.” Matty shrugged his shoulders.

“...now.” Y/n added.

The singer groaned loudly, “I forbid Kate to show you those pictures.”

“Love, she doesn’t hear us, and besides I have a phone.”

“Oh, do you have a Pinterest board for me?” he giggled his eyebrows. ‘He can be so annoying sometimes’, she thought.

“I don’t like you.” Y/n breathed out.

Surprising Matty and herself, Y/n stood up rather quickly with little problems due to her current state. She whipped her hands on the back of her jeans, looking down at Matty. He reached up, touching her belly again. The man was obsessed with it.

“How’s it called?” Matty continued messing with her.

“Asshole.” Y/n whispered, making him laugh.

The singer moved his other hand into the air, making a weird voice, “Matty, my perfect boyfriend.”

“Bye!” the woman simply said, starting to walk away.

“Baby!”

*****

Matty was at the top of the stairs, a few books resting on his arm between his chest and his bicep. Meanwhile, Y/n stood at the bottom of the stairs, being unable to do the job that was needed. Her hands rested on the small part of her back, she was very sore. The sight above her was a nice reassurance, though.

“You lucky girl.”

Kate’s voice came from behind her head. Her best friend took place beside her, her eyes glutted to Matty’s body, exactly how Y/n had been doing moments before.

“Shush.” she said after a quick glance.

Matty stretched far from the stairs, putting the last book on the shelf. “And…done!”

The singer looked down, expecting to see only Y/n there. He got a little stunned when two pairs of eyes were staring at him and not exactly his work. But his mood quickly changed to a smugly one.

“Liking the view, guys?” he asked.

“Yep.” Kate admitted with zero shame on her tone.

Matty snorted, “Didn’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Didn’t you have one?”

“Mhm, she lets her crazy friend look at my ass.”

“I own it.” Y/n stated.

“You do.”

Kate looked between them, “You two are gross.”

“And yet you stare at my ass.” Matty said coming down.

“I can appreciate art when I see it.”

It was Y/n’s time to protest, “Kate!”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcomed.” Matty thanked Y/n’s friend, standing closer to his girlfriend, reaching for her belly once more.

“Am I bothering you guys? Should I leave?” Y/n joked.

Kate rolled her eyes. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Y/n.”

“Funny ha-ha.”

“I should leave, though.”

Kate explained to them, grabbing her back, that it was at the other side of the shop, although she returned. Y/n watched her kneeled down, whispering silly things to her belly, ending with a sweet kiss.

“Vick is waiting for me.” Kate continued the conversation as if nothing happened in between.

Matty whistled, gaining a stern look from her.

“He’s lucky to have nice buttocks.” Kate said directly to her friend. “Bye.”

After the door closed, Matty went directly to the big couch, plopping down with a big huff. He opened his arms wide, searching for Y/n’s eyes. She was already staring at him.

“Baby…” he started. She knew that tone.

“No, I still have work.” Y/n started turning around, but not two steps before he pushed her towards the couch.

Mayhem who was on the other couch, tired by the intense heat, opened and closed his eyes, annoyed with his owners. Y/n extended her hand, touching his fur, avoiding Matty’s eyes above her.

“You deserve a break.” she could feel him lingering on top of her.

“Maybe but-”

Matty shut her up with a series of sweet kisses that ended –of course– on her belly. He kneeled down in front of her and their doggy.

“To think this is where it all started…” he spoke, a bit lost inside his own head. Y/n detached her eyes and hand from Mayhem’s form, leaving the sweet dog to rest.

“The bookshop?” their hands met shortly after asking him.

“Yes.”

“Thanks to your crazy fans, too.”

Matty chuckled, “They love you.”

“I bet they want my place.”

“The bookshop?”

“To be underneath you.” Y/n teased.

“Ah!” Matty exclaimed, going to sit beside her. “You like that, don’t ya?”

“Why are you talking so much?”

“What should I do?”

“Kiss me, Matty.”

“Since you asked nicely…” Matty smiled at Y/n, grabbing her face and pulling his face closer.

Meanwhile the future parents shared a sweet moment after an evening of hard work, all the surrounding universes inside the bookshop continued witnessing –like they did since the first day– their love that continued growing strong.

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

Taglist: @indierockgirrl @x-a-black-winged-dove-x @iregretbeingherewheniwas10 @hswannaknow @thefrontofmymind

#matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty the 1975 #matty healy x y/n #matty x reader #matty x y/n #matty healy the 1975

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loveandmurders · 2 years

Note

hiiiiii!! I just recently seen your daughter au

is it okay if I request daughter getting into a bad fight with all 3 dads? And she just runaway and in the morning they see her gone and just freak out but then she’s comes back late at night to her bedroom and the dads see her and just cuddle her🤍💮

~love all you post! Your my most fan writer for this AU<333

Hello there! I’m so happy you enjoy my writing and this AU (Sinclair daughter!reader x Sinclair Brothers from the House of Wax)! I really loved this idea and got carried away, so it’ll be into two parts <3

Hope you’ll enjoy! <3

And if you have missed one of my last fics, my masterlist is here

SHE LEFT (Part I)

Warnings: morally grey reader/future killer, mention of killings, violence, blood, angst

You were a teenage girl, which meant you were almost an adult, which meant you should be allowed to do whatever you wanted. Unfortunately, your parents didn’t agree with that, and it was pissing you off.

They really hated to have you around when the tourists were also there, and the worst was that you didn’t seem to understand how dangerous it could get for you. You just knew you could help, and you really wanted to be part of the family business. It felt like your duty and you wanted to make your fathers proud of you, because one day, you wanted Bo to give you his family ring. You were his heir after all, so you had to be worthy of this honour. But they didn’t seem to understand, or at least they were too worried for you to agree with that. Of course Bo was really happy you wanted to be Sinclair so badly, but he also viewed his father role as a very serious duty and he couldn’t let his daughter get into danger like that. As his heir, he needed you alive more than anything else.

If you had been an obedient girl, you would stay locked up in your bedroom until Bo or Vincent would have let you know that the tourists were all gone. By any means, you weren’t obedient.

And that was why you decided to help your parents, without asking for their approval, because you knew they wouldn’t give it to you. You wanted to prove to them you could be helpful. You had grabbed a knife and you were ready to kill someone today. You had waited in the shadows, watching that tourist who was clearly lost in a ghost town he didn’t know. Unfortunately for him, you knew every stone on the roads, hiding places and details of Ambrose. It was easy for you to lurk around without him noticing you. You were waiting for the right time to strike before jumping on him. You were quick to make him fall on the ground and you straddled him, your knife already up in the air. But someone grabbed your wrist before you could stab him. You were about to fight back when you looked over your shoulder and you saw Vincent. You let him get you up and he quickly killed the man before pushing you toward the house. You couldn’t see his expression behind his mask but you could tell with his body language that he wasn’t happy with you at all. You pouted at him and you tried to protest.

“Was ‘bout to kill him without your help, dad. ‘M a big girl now” you whined and Vincent only groaned at that, as he continued to push you away, but you weren’t in the mood to let him do so easily.

Unfortunately for you, Bo arrived soon after and he frowned when he saw you out of the house, a dead man at your feet and Vincent trying to get rid of you. He was really not pleased with you either, and worry and anger started to rise inside of his chest. He hoped Vincent arrived in time before you had been able to kill the man. The three men wanted their baby to stay innocent as long as possible. He yelled at you for you to get back home right away and you shook your head. He really wasn’t in the mood for your little rebellion so he quickly walked to you, grabbed your arm and guided you towards the house.

“Ya go home now. It’s an order.” he told you and you had to obey because you recognised in his tone that you couldn’t argue with him anymore.

You reluctantly went back into the house and settled in the living room, absentmindedly drawing on the coffee table. Your paper was full of doodles, as all your mind could focus on was how close you had been to kill a man, how much you loved the adrenaline rushing into your veins, and how your parents ruined it for you.

Bo and Vincent came back home pretty late, and you had decided to start cooking dinner for them, no matter how pissed you were. But you also knew they weren’t happy with you, and you hoped that food would appease the tensions. Bo was still covered in blood when he grabbed your arm again and asked you to go into the living room. You argued about the food, so Bo turned the heat down. You sat on the couch, as Vincent was standing by the window. Great, they were going to ground you. You huffed and crossed your arms on your chest, as you leaned against the sofa. Lester came soon after. He quickly checked on you before sitting in front of you. He was more worried than angry, but the twins were in a slaughtering mood right now. You waited for Bo to start talking, and you could admit that he was trying his hardest to not yell at you and let out all his anger on you. You were his most precious thing, so he was trying his best for you.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he finally said and you rolled your eyes at him “Don’t think ya’re allowed to be cheeky now. Ain’t likin’ your attitude lately and this needs to stop now” he said and for once you couldn’t get Vincent or Lester on your side so you simply shrugged and stayed silent. Your parents didn’t want to understand your point of view, so you didn’t know why you should try to communicate. “Answer” Bo ordered and you arched an eyebrow at him

“And what do ya want me to answer?” you replied

“That ya understood and ya’ll stay out of our way when tourists are around, like we told ya since ya’re a child” he continued

“Ain’t a child no more” you argued back

But you’re our child Vincent signed and Lester nodded, hoping you would understand. Bo was about to add something, but Lester felt you wouldn’t like it so he cut him off

“We just wanna the best for ya, and to keep ya safe, that’s it” Lester continued

“But what ‘bout what I want? Ya so don’t care” you said and you stood up because you wanted to leave, you were too annoyed with them and they weren’t listening to you.

“Ya sit back down, we ain’t done” Bo ordered but it was too much for you

“Ya know what, fuck ya.” you said and Lester’s eyes widened

“What did ya say?” Bo asked in a threatening voice and Vincent quickly grabbed his arm before he could make you feel unsafe. But you weren’t afraid at all, not of your family.

“Ya can’t raise me in the middle of a ghost town and of killin’ and then react like I’m wrong when I want to participate. If ya can’t assume the life you gave me, then you shouldn’t have adopted me” you said. Your words saddened them all. Lester looked down at the ground and Vincent tried to remain expressionless. But Bo was too hurt to keep it cool.

“Ya’re right, we shouldn’t have” he said “Ya’re too much troubles anyways” he added before his brothers could stop him.

This time you ran away from the living room.

You didn’t hear your parents arguing, as you locked your bedroom door behind you. You were hurt like you never had been before; but if your parents regretted having adopted you, it made sense why they didn’t want to let you kill. They just didn’t want you to be part of the family business, because you weren’t family.

Tears were streaming down your face as you angrily shoved clothes and snacks into a bag. You were leaving, you didn’t even need to think about it. You were acting on pure instinct and rage. At the same time, you didn’t want to bother them anymore and at least, it would allow you to do anything you might want. You were big enough to take care of yourself, you thought. You wanted to believe it was going to be okay, but your stomach was a knot. You were almost done with your bag when you heard a soft knock at your door.

“Hey, baby” it was Lester’s voice but you didn’t answer so he added “can ya let me in?” he asked and you hated how Vincent probably sent him to smooth things out. There was nothing to smooth out; you were too upset.

“What for?” you finally asked “Beauregard’s been clear as fuck” you added and you heard Lester sighing. He would have laughed at you using Bo’s full name if the situation wasn’t that bad.

“He didn’t mean what he said, ya provoked him, and ya know how he can be when he’s angry” he replied and you huffed

“Whatever” you mumbled

You finished your bag and you sat on your bed. You could perfectly imagine Lester, behind the door, trying to think of something he could say to make things better. But right now, he couldn’t.

“Tell me you disagree” you said

“‘Bout what?” he asked

“That I shouldn’t participate in the killin’” you added and you could tell he was having an inner debate

“Look… can’t say I disagree.” he admitted “ya’re our baby, we’re worried” he explained again “Know ya think ya’re big enough for that kind of stuff, but ya never are big enough for that. We wanna better for ya.”

“What ‘bout what I want?” you repeat what you asked earlier

“Ya ain’t realisin’ what ya want” he replied and it was the nail in the coffin. You were leaving home without a doubt now. You didn’t answer back, and Lester could tell he didn’t say what he should have. He sighed again before leaving.

You didn’t leave your room from the whole evening, not even when Bo came to tell you that dinner was ready, or when Lester came back to let you know they had kept a plate for you in the fridge if you got hungry in the night, or when Vincent gently knocked at your door, hoping you would agree to say goodnight at least.

You heard Lester leaving Ambrose in his truck. Now the tricky part was to leave the house without the twins to realise it. You knew that Vincent wasn’t sleeping a lot, but hopefully he would be too focused on his work to realise anything. Bo, on the other hand, could sleep like a rock, but if there was just a slight unknown noise, he would be on his feet, ready to protect his family, in a second.

You waited for Vincent to be in the basement and for Bo to put the TV on. You waited a little longer for Bo to fall asleep and Vincent to start working. Then you very slowly opened your window, with your bag on your back. You climbed out of the window and very carefully walked on the roof before using the piles to go down. You jumped on the ground and tried to make as little noises as possible. You looked up and you saw Bo stirring a little in his armchair, so you froze and waited for him to go back to sleep.

Once he was resting again, you were gone.

PART II

Taglist:

@feathery-ass

@6-6-6-riddler

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titsuya · 3 years

Text

# SOFTCORE

where you ask your precious bf to take your virginity!

miya atsumu x f!reader

warning: daddy!kink, CORRUPTION KINK, virginity loss, creampie, slight dumbification, heavy use in pet names, heavy praise, soft!atsumu, masturbation, body & cock worship, sensitive!reader, shitty writing lol

wc: 3.2k+ (SORRY LOL)

a/n: HI! ok first fic and yeah i hope u guys like it cause i dont :p follow for more :D likes and reblogs appreciated!!! <3

minors, please and i mean this, GET AWAY

you’re just atsumu’s lil virgin gf. there’s no specific reason why you haven’t had sex yet, you just found every man you dated sexually repulsive and the relationship always ended within a few months anyway.

then you met atsumu. and you’ve never felt so attracted to someone like this. every word the fell from his pretty lips made your knees weak, every laugh had the space between your thighs soaked, and every time he put his hands on your body had you shivering.

of course, you told him you were a virgin before you guys started dating.

“tsumu... i’m…” you whimpered quietly as you tried to admit that you weren’t experienced like he probably is. “i’ve never been touched like that before…” your face was beet red in the moment, telling this handsome man you were a virgin after he had confessed to you.

his eyes widened, “yer a virgin?!” he exclaimed, making you shy away even more.

“mhm,”

unbeknownst to you, your confession made atsumu want you more. cock rock hard in his pants at the thought of being the first man to fuck you dumb and pump you full of cum. the thought of your eyes crossing and tongue lolling out of your mouth has him salivating, cheeks dusting with a faint pink color.

he cleared his throat, “that’s okay, darlin’,” he ran his hands up and down your arms. “be mine, we can wait till yer ready, promise,”

you smiled in awe and nodded your head vigorously, agreeing to be his and only his.

that was nearly 3 months ago.

you wanted to do it. you’ve wanted it for a while now. the dull ache in your core never leaving when you’re with your precious boyfriend.

the same precious boyfriend who hasn’t made any sexual advances on you since you had told him you were a virgin. you genuinely thought he’d notice that you were too shy to make a move on him, or maybe he has and atsumu is secretly a sadist.

you dare not even touch yourself, unsure of how to do it and make yourself feel good, so you wait, eagerly, hoping one of these days you’ll be able to lose your virginity to the first man you ever loved.

today, the two of you were supposed to hang out at his place since he didn’t have practice. the time you had planned had yet to come, so you think showing up early won’t be that big of a deal.

upon arrival, you find his spare key and let yourself in.

“fuuuck,” you hear from his room and freeze in your tracks.

no, you think. there’s no way he’s cheating on me.

your heart pounds in your chest as you slowly walk over to his room, moans growing louder and louder with every step.

“that’s it, hngg, take that cock, fuck yes,” he growls, softly. “yeah, baby, take daddy’s cock, just like that,”

you can’t help but let out a shaky breath at his vulgar words… daddy? does he like being called that?

“-----, fuck me, yer so fuckin’ pretty,” he whines, and at this point, you need to cover your mouth because you realize what he’s doing now.

i need to leave, you think to yourself.

your brain yells at you to leave but the arousal dripping from your core wants you to stay, wants to watch your boyfriend fuck his fist as he calls to you, wants to replace his hand with yours.

so instead of leaving, you text him with shaky fingers walking to the front door you had accidentally left open.

you: hi tsumu <33 i came a little early, hope that’s ok with u !! missed u sm nd i wanted to see u :(( can i come in ?

you hear a loud “fuck!” from his room right before you close the door and stifle a laugh. soon after you hear your phone ping.

tsumie <333: yer all good <3 ill come n getcha inna sec, missed yer pretty lil face baby

you: mmkay, take ur time :DD

obviously, you knew what he was doing and as soon as you saw him, you noticed there was still a bulge in his pants, looking painfully hard.

“you look red, tsumie, everything alright?” you bite back your wide grin waiting to hear what excuse he had up his sleeve.

he clears his throat, “hmm, just did a little bit of stretching ‘n random physical stuff… coach says i gotta stay active on days off,” he says with a faux smile. “c’mon in, pretty baby, ‘s hot out here,”

you walk in and take off your shoes as he closes the door.

“can we watch a movie in your room?”

“‘course, baby,”

entering his room, you plop yourself into his bed, opening your arms so you could be enveloped in his larger ones. he smiles and pulls you into his arms and you giggle as you nose at his neck, taking in his strong musk.

you roll yourself on top at ease, straddling his waist with a big smile on your face as you pull away from his neck.

atsumu just gives you a cautious look because you’ve never been in this position… and he’s pretty sure you’re about to feel his hard on.

and you do, it’s pressing into your core the more you sit up and you can’t help but let out a tiny whimper at the pressure, subconsciously grinding your hips for a bit more friction.

atsumu lays there bewildered because, what the actual fuck are you doing? are you unintentionally grinding on his cock, or do you know what you’re doing?

surely, you don’t because you’re an innocent little virgin, atsumu thinks to himself.

and then it slips off your tongue, just beautifully, “d-daddy…” you whimper as you pick up speed.

he’s not sure if he hears you correctly, or if he’s simply dreaming, but it doesn’t stop him from flipping you over and pressing a fervent kiss to your lips. at this, you gasp, surprised by how quickly he moves.

he breaks the kiss, panting softly, “ya need to tell me f’ya really want this, baby, need ya to tell me… don’t wanna hurt ya,” his voice is strained as if he can’t hold him back much longer. his honey eyes filled with lust, and they’re just boring into yours.

“want you,” you mumble, looking away from his eyes.

“c’mon, angel, can’t hear ya when ya mumble like that,” he forces your eyes back to him with his hand on your face.

“d-daddy, wan’ you to… to fuck me, wan’ it… please wanna take it,” you whined, a little louder than before, shaking in anticipation and slight fear. “it hurts down there, tsumie, hurts so bad. need it in me. need your cock. need you to help me, pleaseplease,” you cry as the dull ache in your core increases by the mere minute.

he’s not sure his cock can get any harder, but the sight of your tears and hearing your slurred words has him nearly dizzy with need. he’s not sure how long he can last seeing you so fucked out already.

“‘m sorry, baby, don’cha worry yer pretty lil head, i’ll take care of yer pussy ‘n fuck ya till ya can’t move, how’s that? can i do that for ya?”

“pleasepleaseplease, yes,” you cry, weakly.

he presses his lips to your tear-streaked cheek, “i gotcha, princess. gunna take good care of ya, gunna make ya feel real good, cross ma heart,” he whispers against your face, reassuring you.

he slips your loose shirt off your body and latches his mouth to your collarbone, sucking and nipping at the soft skin. you’re sure your heartbeat increases when yanks your bra down, impatiently moving his mouth to suck on your nipple.

you want to cover them with your arms, but when he feels your arms try to push him away, he pins them to your side.

“tsum, ‘s embarrassing,”

“how, ya got the prettiest tits, doll, yer so perfect,” he worships you like a goddess because in his eyes, you are the most perfect thing in the world.

you quit resisting as he attacks your breasts with sloppy kisses and soft bites around the area, “feels good,” you tell him with a high pitched, shaky voice.

he finally unclips the bra, tossing it away and moves to pull your pants off your body quickly. you probably would’ve slowed him down if you weren’t so needy to get rid of the foreign feeling.

“‘s so wet, baby,” he says looking at your soaked underwear.

he hooks his fingers through the waistband of said underwear, pulling them down to your ankles and you kick them off in an instant. you whine at the cold air hitting your bare cunt and wiggle to get atsumu to do something— anything.

“easy there, baby, what’d ya want me to do first, want my fingers? my mouth?” he questions, caressing your face delicately. “wanna make sure you can take my cock,”

“hmph, fingers, please,”

“please what?” he raises an eyebrow, expectantly, a sly smile appearing on his face.

your throat runs dry, “please, daddy,” you say, voice cracking due to nervousness.

“that’s my girl,”

the possessiveness in his words makes you even wetter ‘cause thats all you’ve wanted for the past 3 months, to be his.

he runs his finger down your slit, collecting wetness before stopping at your drooling cunt. “baby, tell me if i’m hurtin’ ya, alright?”

you nod your head vigorously, “o-okay, daddy, i will,”

he smiles and pushes his middle finger in and you immediately clamp down and whine at the foreign feeling of something inside of you.

“relax for me, doll, i gotcha,” he soothes with a cute smile on his face.

you ease up a bit and he takes it as is a queue to continue to softly thrust his fingers in n out of you. he notices your breathing pick up and your hips beginning to buck up to his hand and smirks.

you moan softly, “more, daddy, please,”

he adds a second finger, stretching you open a bit wider, “fuck, yeah, yer so tight, baby, don’t know how my cock’s gunna fit in ya,” he thumbs at your clit causing you to writhe under him.

you can barely hear what he’s saying with his two fingers slipping in and out and his thumb on your clit, but at the mention of his cock, you mewl, “wan’ daddy’s cock,”

he picks up the pace as soon as your pussy eases up again, plunging the two fingers quickly and mercilessly rubs on your clit, “know ya want it, dollface, i’ll make you take it, don’t worry,”

he slips another finger in and you arch your back. there’s a slight feeling of pain, his long, thick fingers scissoring inside of you, stretching you for what you’re worth, but you can’t begin to explain how much the pain is worth.

you’re getting close, the tight coil in your tummy about to snap, “d-da- fuuck, daddy! feels good, s-so good, hng,” you moan, loudly.

tsumu knows, he feels you clamping down on his fingers, so he removes them and stills his thumb.

you’re eyes snap open and you feel like you’re about to start crying even harder, “w-what?! why? daddy, why’d you stop? i was so close,” tears fall down your face as you feel hopeless.

“want you to cum on my cock first, baby, ‘m sorry, forgive me?”

he slips his shirt off before slipping his shorts down his legs. his rather large dick springs up and slaps against his toned abdomen.

you’re shocked to say the least, freezing in place as you stare at his thick length.

it’s not gonna fit… there’s no way, you think to yourself, yet you can’t help but clench your hole around nothing. the mere thought of his fat cock being inside of you has you giddy with excitement.

you sit up and crawl over to the foot of the bed where he stands with shaky legs. sitting on your knees in front of him, you take hold of his leaky cock and admire it.

flushed pink head, prominent veins you trace with your finger, heavy balls, at least heavier than you thought. it can barely fit in your tiny hands, there is no way it’s gonna fit in your even tinier cunt.

“daddy, ‘s too big, not gonna fit,” you look up at him, stroking his cock in your hand, as well as stroking his ego.

“aww, are ya scared, baby?” he coos, but you can’t tell if he’s mocking you or not, nonetheless, you huff out.

“‘m not!”

“good.” he chuckles, pushing you onto your back once more, climbing onto the bed to tower over you.

he taps the tip of his cock on your puffy clit a few times making you jolt and cry out.

atsumu can barley contain his own excitement. the own thought of him corrupting you has kept him hard for hours. he finally can’t wait to pound your pretty pussy and have his cum stuffed so deep inside you that you’ll feel it for days.

he rubs his cock up and down your hole before spitting on it to make sure you’re still wet enough for you to take him. not like you’d need it.

“ready for me, princess?”

you hesitantly nod your head, you never thought this would happen with probably the hottest man alive.

“tell me if it hurts, want ya to feel good,” he whispers as he presses himself inside of you.

at this, you grip his bedsheets tightly letting out a silent scream as he pops the head of his cock inside. you’re breathing increases, chest heaving up and down rather quickly, unsure if you’ll be able to take him all the way.

“how ya doin’ there, pretty girl?” he asks, moving his hand to your clit, rubbing in small circles over the bundle of nerves in hopes to calm you down.

“d-daddy…” is all you can moan out, head dizzy from the equal amount of pain and pleasure you’re receiving.

he pushes in till he’s halfway, thoroughly enjoying the way your gummy walls contract around him and the way you can’t stop shaking at the simple act of him putting his cock in you.

it hurts, bad, but in all that pain, you can’t help but beg for more.

“daddy, daddy, more. please more!” you cry out, arching your back.

he’s shocked to say the least, not expecting you to beg for more of him in the 5 minutes he’s been in you, but he doesn’t dwell on that for too long, too caught up in the way your body keeps begging him for more and more. the way your mouth falls open— a sight he’s been dreaming about since forever.

he slowly shoves the rest inside of you and you scream, “f-fu-fuck, d-daddy, gunna cum!” you cry and cry the feeling of being stuffed to the brim with his cock alone makes you cum. you shake under him as your back arches off the bed once again and your eyes rolling all the way to the back of your head, drool just slipping out of your mouth.

he can’t even help but let out a moan at the sight and the feeling of you cumming on his cock for the first time. he watches you come down from your high before he starts to take his cock out and shoves it back in.

“good fuckin girl, doin’ so good, gunna make ya cum till yer poor little cunny can’t take it anymore, understand?” he growls fucking in and out of you, slowly moving faster and faster.

“y-yes! ‘m your good girl! please make me cum again!” you mewl, “‘s so good!”

he moves both of his hands to press into your waist, his grip is nearly bruising but all you can think about is how his cock is pounding you so good and how quick the pain turned to pleasure.

“this pussy was made to take ma cock, wasn’t it?” he growls, picking up the pace. other than his words, all that could be heard was the squelching of your soaked pussy and the slapping of your wet skin along with the loud moans falling from both mouths.

“mhm!!!” you can barely comprehend what he’s saying, brain turning to mush.

“fucked ya dumb, look at me go,” he giggles, cockily.

he lifts your legs up and pushes your knees against your chest. at the new angle, you can’t help but let out another loud scream, “tsum! tsumu! gunna!”

“cum on this fucking cock, yeah baby, cum for me,” he moans loudly, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass even faster.

the tight coil inside of your tummy snaps for the second time of the night. your walls flutter around him again as you cum again, “daddy!” you’re not sure how loud you are because you’ve nearly gone deaf at the orgasm washing over you, 10 times more powerful than the first.

“fuck, baby, ’m close,” he whines. “g-gunna be a good girl nd let me cum inside of ya? gunna let me fill ya up?”

his fast pace brutally beating up your insides and you feel like you never stop cumming, “hnggg, daddy’s good girl! yes!” you sob. “please!! please!”

you’re not even sure what you’re begging for because you can barely comprehend what’s going on, but you trust him to make you feel good just as he has been

“fuck, gunna cum in ya, angel, love ya, fuck i love ya so much,” he cries out as his cock stills and spills his load deep in your battered pussy moaning praises out loudly. the way his cum fills you up and his cock has you plugged up makes you cum again, unable to handle the lewd feeling.

“love you, tsumie!” you cry back weakly, shaking uncontrollably.

after a minute of coming down, he removes his cock from inside of you and watches the cum dribble out of your used cunt and curses at the sight, wanting to shove it back inside of you and pump you full load after load after load, but refrains when he hears your whimpering die down and sees your eyes closed, not wanting to exhaust you even more.

it feels like forever before your breathing stills and you finally regain complete consciousness. you notice atsumu is no longer in the room and start to pout.

did he leave? you think to yourself. he lives here, why would he leave?

“hi, pretty baby, ya feelin’ okay?” he says when he walks back into his room and sees you staring at the ceiling.

your ears perk up at the sound of him and sit up with a smile on your face. “‘m okay, a little sore,”

“‘m sorry, baby, but ya did so well for me, ‘m so proud of ya,” he coos before kisses your forehead. “here, i brought ya some water ‘nd a shirt, lemme clean ya up real quick, n then you go use the bathroom, alright?”

your heart swells and then you suddenly remember what you both had said in the heat of the moment… you weren’t sure if he meant what he said, but you did. you really do love him.

“tsumie?” you question, shyly.

“yes, baby?”

“did you really mean what you said?” you whisper.

he raises an eyebrow at you, “and which part was that?”

“the part when you said you love me…”

he gives you a wide grin, “‘course i did! yer my girl and i love ya tons, more than anything,”

you could probably cry, jumping into his arms and give him a big kiss, “i love you more, tsumu….” you trail off.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothin’ i was just… can we go again?”

“thought you’d never ask,” he smirks pushing you back on to the bed.

#— sar thirsts <//3 #— luvtsumie #haikyuu smut #atsumu smut #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu smut #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #this sucks omg #— 🔞

1K notes · View notes

saturnznct · 3 years

Text

he teaches your child to sing | ldh

➸ request from yellow anon; hi there! how are you doing? i’m doing fine rn bcs i saw how active you are these days <3 could i request haechan teaching sunhee how to sing bcs he saw her try to copy him one time during a recording <333 tysm !!!

➸ note; hi yellow anon bestie thank u so much for requesting!! i hope this is what you wanted and i hope u like it!!

➸ word count; 982 words

➸ sunhee; aged 3

nct masterlist

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Donghyuck didn’t mind bringing Sunhee along to the studio at all. His two older children were currently at school, and you were at work, so Sunhee was his responsibility for the day.

He debated calling a babysitter, but decided to just bring her to work with him. Sunhee was really well behaved, and the members and staff loved her.

Once you had left for work, and Dalgun and Kyungah were at school, Donghyuck got Sunhee ready to go out.

Normally, his dance bag is full of various items such as deodorant or his razor, but today it’s filled with toys, kids snacks and spare toddler sized clothes.

’Sunhee-ah, are you looking forward to seeing uncles?’ Donghyuck asks the toddler, who is sitting on the floor playing with random scattered toys.

‘Uncle Mark?’

‘Yeah, Uncle Mark will be there. And Uncle Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle and Jisung.’

She gasps in excitement, ‘are we going?’

‘Yeah, I told you, daddy’s taking you to the studio with him.’

‘Dancing?’

‘I think daddy’s doing some singing today,’ Donghyuck explains, ‘it’ll be fun.’

Donghyuck searches the cupboard for some suitable pairs of shoes for Sunhee.

‘Come and get your shoes on baby,’ he calls, and the two year old comes quickly toddling towards him.

Her tiny hand holds onto his shoulders as she lifts each foot up, letting her father slip on her shoes and secure them.

‘Right! Looks like we’re ready to go. Can you hold daddy’s hand while we walk to the car?’

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Sunhee is an extremely shy kid. Especially with adults she doesn’t know.

So as she and Donghyuck are walking through the corridors of the SM building, hand in hand, she’s practically clinging onto Donghyuck’s leg. Staff members try to speak to her, but they either get silence or a squeak in response.

It’s only when they arrive in the studio does she speak to anyone.

‘Uncle Mark,’ she grins, happily toddling towards him and flying into his outstretched arms.

‘Sunhee-ah!” He lifts her in the air, spinning her around in his arms.

She shrieks and giggles as he sets her down, finally breaking down her shy barrier.

‘Has she ever seen a recording?’ Mark asks Donghyuck, ‘I don’t remember ever seeing her during one.’

‘I don’t think she has,’ Donghyuck shrugs, ‘you wanna watch daddy and uncles sing?’

‘Yeah!’ She chirps cutely, suddenly in the arms of Jeno.

‘Ok, then let’s race there- go!’

Donghyuck suddenly breaks off into a slow jog, giggling when he hears Sunhee shriek and complain about ‘cheating.’

He lets Sunhee win the race, stopping her at the doorway of the studio.

‘Be careful when you go in baby,’ Donghyuck advises her, ‘don’t touch any of the stuff on the tables, ok?’

‘Ok daddy,’ Sunhee nods, ‘no touching.’

‘Good girl, come on.’

All four of the staff members in the room turn to look as Donghyuck opens the door.

‘Oh gosh, Sunhee!’ One of the managers who had met her several times squeals, ‘so nice to see you!’

‘Hi Auntie,’ Sunhee, forever the introvert, murmurs, holding tightly onto her father’s hand.

’Sunhee, this is Kenzie,’ Donghyuck motions to the producer, ‘she makes our music. Kenzie, this is my youngest, Sunhee.’

’Nice to meet you Sunhee,’ the producer smiles.

‘Hi,’ Sunhee mumbles, ‘nice to meet you too.’

’She’s so adorable,’ Kenzie grins, ‘you ready to get in the booth? Do you need someone to watch her?’

‘Do you mind?’ Donghyuck asks the manager, who nods rapidly.

’No, I don’t mind at all! She is the sweetest.’

‘Thank you- Sunhee-ah, be a good girl for Auntie, okay?’

‘Ok daddy.’

‘Good girl, I won’t be long.’

Donghyuck spends the next three quarters of an hour or so immersed in recording, occasionally glancing out of the glass screen to check on Sunhee. Thankfully she was playing well, fiddling with a plastic toy.

Ocasionally, he could hear her little voice imitating him, singing along to the same lines absentmindedly. Cute.

Sunhee’s face lights up as Donghyuck emerges from the recording booth.

‘Daddy you’re back,’ she chirps, ‘you sang so good.’

’Thank you baby,’ Donghyuck kisses her little cheek.

‘I want to try singing like you,’ she smiles thoughtfully, ‘do you think I could sound like you?’

‘Of course you could,’ Donghyuck nods, ‘wanna try?’

‘Yeah!’

Donghyuck notices Mark setting up in the booth, so decides to search for a spare room.

‘In here,’ Donghyuck smiles, ushering her into the room.

It’s just an empty studio, but will do well enough for a bit of practice.

Thankfully the door to the booth is unlocked, so Donghyuck just strolls right in, searching for something for Sunhee to stand on. He pulls up a chair close enough to the mic, helping her stand on it and gently holding her sides got keep her steady.

‘You wanna sing like daddy?’

‘Uh-huh!’

‘Okay, copy me!’

Donghyuck sings a couple of lines of Be There For You. Sunhee repeats them, quite flatly, but a solid attempt from the three year old girl.

‘Good job!’ Donghyuck praises, ‘you sang so well!’

‘Really?’

‘You wanna sing some more?’

‘Yep,’ She nods rapidly.

‘What songs do you wanna sing?’

‘More of yours daddy,’ she smiles fondly.

The two of them spend the rest of the day singing along to what Donghyuck believes is every NCT song under the sun.

But it’s sweet, and Donghyuck loves spending time with his youngest daughter.

‘I think maybe Sunhee has decided her career path already,’ Donghyuck laughs in amusement as the two of you get into bed later that night.

‘Really?’

‘Yep. She’s gonna be a singer just like her daddy.’

He’s beaming with pride, warming your heart.

‘She does?’

‘Yeah,’ he smiles, ’so maybe we should get her lessons or something?

’Maybe when she’s four or five,’ you say, ’but you can teach her until then.’

‘I will,’ Donghyuck smiles to himself, ‘I definitely will.’

371 notes · View notes

hooniee · 3 years

Text

— ꒰‧his members scaring you too much ⁺*ೃ༄

↷enhypen x reader ⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷ genre: reaction | fluff⋯ ♡ᵎ

↷warnings: grabbing of wrist without consent but with no ill intent! ⋯ ♡ᵎ

♡ :: can i request an enhypen reaction to another member scaring you too far? @kisshoons-main

⇢˚⋆ ✎ hi lovely!! i’m so sorry for the long wait but here it is <3 this headcannon is so messy but it was so much fun to write :D have a great day, mwah <333

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*

watching a scary movie with the boys was definitely not the best idea. though they were terrified themselves, they knew someone who was more scared then them; you. and with that information, they decided to scare you even more.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*

“hey i’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you gulped, telling your boyfriend. his brows furrow as he sees how tense you are.

“are you okay? do you want me to take you there?” he asks before you shake your head. you softly get out of his grasp before quietly making your way to the bathroom.

this was when the boys were ready to strike their plan.

as you washed your hands, you heard a creek around you but didn’t think much of it. it was probably one of the boys going up to their room to get something.

what you didn’t expect was for you to grabbed by your wrist out of the bathroom. the only thing you could do is scream before your boyfriend came to calm you down.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*

-ˏˋ~ heeseung lee ~ˊˎ-

heeseung rushes to your side

“hey, it’s okay, look at me”

you heard heeseung’s voice nearing

he pulls you into a hug, tucking your head under his chin

you immediately melt into heeseung’s touch

he holds you close as you start to shake

he guides you down the stairs, still holding you close

when he arrives at the living room, the boys are all looking down

guilty looking

“which one of you did it?”

oh man, was jay in for one long scolding </3

-ˏˋ~ jay park ~ˊˎ-

“i’m here, i’m here”

he gently strokes your hair

you’re still a bit shaken up from what happened

he is glaring at the culprit who hasn’t left yet

“ni-ki what were you thinking?”

ni-ki bows his head to you

“i’m sorry, (y/n) noona,”

you turn to him before giving him hug

“it’s okay, you were just trying to have some fun”

jay is still a little upset because of how scared you seemed

but since you forgave ni-ki, he did too

happy ending !!

-ˏˋ~ jake sim ~ˊˎ-

“you’re okay, love, you’re okay”

to be honest, jake is kinda shaken up too

he doesn’t like scary things

(that one scene in i-land where the ghost came)

but the horror movie won the pick today, what could he do?

you both are cowering in each other’s hold

heeseung comes forward

“(y/n)? i’m sorry, i didn’t think it would be that scary. i didn’t mean any harm. i’m really sorry”

you give him a slight smile and accepted the apology

jake definitely didn’t </3

-ˏˋ~ sunghoon park ~ˊˎ-

sunghoon was panicking

he never dealt with comforting you

(since you guys were new to dating)

he holds your face, his thumb caressing your cheeks

“it’s just me babe, you’re okay”

the only thing he could offer to you was reassurance

reassurance that he was there

you start to calm down before he gives you a soft smile

silent treatment to the whole group until they apologize

-ˏˋ~ sunoo kim ~ˊˎ-

“are you okay bub?”

sunoo’s heart softens when you cling on to him like your life depended on it

he rubs your back soothingly

he looks over to the one and only, jay

“jay hyung, was that really necessary?”

sunoo’s words drip venom

(i would be so scared to make sunoo angry)

jay nervously chuckles

but sunoo only tilted his head with no expression

that means things gettin serious

silent treatment to the whole group until they apologize #2

-ˏˋ~ jungwon yang ~ˊˎ-

i feel like jungwon the type of guy to ask you for consent

“hi baby, it’s me won. may i hug you?”

when you give the okay sign

he engulfs you in a warm, welcoming hug

he plants a kiss to your forehead

mumbling that you’re okay

he glares at the younger one

“ni-ki would you like to say something to (y/n)?”

“uh- uh - JAY MADE ME DO IT”

“WHAT”

-ˏˋ~ nishimura riki ~ˊˎ-

ni-ki doesn’t say anything

as soon as he sees you, he just hugs you

he lets you breathe and calm down

as he kisses your temple

a sign that he’s right there with you

that it’s okay <333

ni-ki is currently blankly staring at heeseung

(that’s more scary than a glare)

silent treatment to the whole group until they apologize #3

1K notes · View notes

doiefy · 3 years

Text

blue // na jaemin

“The winter has passed and the spring has come We have withered and our hearts are bruised from longing”

- blue, bigbang

In which one ceases to age until they find their soulmate, with whom they then grow old. In which everyone has moved on without you.

genre: soulmate!au, fluff, angst, slow burn

pairings: jaemin x female reader (written with a female character in mind, but it can easily be gender neutral!), features relationships with other dream members, briefly mentions haechan x jeno

word count: 11.6 k

warnings: language, mentions of alcohol and smoking, mentions of war, mentions of death, discussions of Korea under Japanese occupation, some of the historical references may be inaccurate.

taglist (DM, comment or Ask to be added): @simplicitysbabe Big thank you to @neojaems for beta reading this for me !! <333

spotify playlist

Your test comes back blue.

When you rip open the envelope containing your results, you find the little coloured square hidden between pages and pages of lab protocols, testing procedures and other nonsense you know no one actually has the time to read. Then there are the stupid pamphlets, the ones with overtly bright and bubbly messages reassuring people that they’ll find their “special someone” soon, slogans most likely written by people who found their soulmates before they even turned twenty. You scoff, shoving the useless papers back into the envelope and recalling the first time you tested back in 1945, right after the war. The receptionist wrote your results down on a piece of paper and nonchalantly told you to have your emotional breakdown outside.

Now you stare at the blue marking on your paper blankly. It simply means you haven’t aged biologically in ten years, but when you haven’t aged in decades, it means nothing. While the world progresses, you remain frozen in the same body, playing a cruel game with fate. And as with any game that one cannot win, you’ve slowly become bored with it, allowing it to take its course while you sit idle nearby. You feel only disappointed, and not even perplexed or surprised in the slightest. Something about meeting Jaemin just seemed too good to be true; after a lifetime of misfortune and failure, something about the bad news feels… expected. Inevitable. As if unconsciously, you knew he wasn’t the one.

Na Jaemin is not your soulmate. And you spend the walk home contemplating how you’ll tell him this.

When you unlock the door to your shared apartment, you know he’s already home, and earlier than usual: his shoes are placed meticulously on the rack by the door and his jacket is hung up next to the messenger bag he takes to work. The living room smells faintly of the pine and vanilla candle you bought last month, and you smell traces of shampoo and bodywash from the bathroom.

“I’m home!” you call out as you kick your shoes off and put them neatly next to Jaemin’s. There’s a muffled response of your name before the door to your room opens. Then his arms are around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he mumbles a tired greeting.

“Bad day?” You ask softly, pushing all your other thoughts to the back of your head. He looks exhausted. His hair is tucked messily under the hood of his navy sweater, still damp from the shower he took earlier. His eyes lack the usual brightness you often find yourself so immersed in, replaced with the fatigue and weariness he almost never brings home.

“I hate this company,” he sighs as you run your fingers through his hair. You feel him relax in your arms a bit. “My boss is a dick, everyone in my department hates each other and the coffee tastes like actual ass. Maybe I should just quit while I still can.”

You frown. “Jaem, you’ve been with them for literally a month. You can’t possibly be thinking about quitting already.”

“A month! A month in and I’m already having mental breakdowns under my desk at lunch. Imagine what will become of me if I spend a year there,” he scowls, but his expression softens when you kiss him reassuringly on the cheek. “Alright, alright, fine, maybe not quit, maybe I’ll just take a long, long, vacation and then retire… Move to the countryside with you…” He trails off dreamily and for a moment, you lose yourself in the fantasy he’s painted for you. The mental image of a quaint house by the ocean is quickly shattered when you remember the test results hidden in your bag. The sunflowers you envisioned surrounding the cottage are blown away in the wind, their bright yellow petals swallowed by the blueness of the sky.

“Oh, you wish,” you laugh, quickly pressing your lips to his in hopes that he won’t see your expression, that he won’t see the sadness and regret you’re fighting to suppress. “Maybe, baby, maybe one day we can do that.”

“Maybe,” he laughs, his face lighting up with the energy and liveliness that has been missing. “But enough about me. How was your day, love?”

“Mm. The same old,” you say, pulling out of his arms so you can finally take your jacket off. You crash into the couch where you fold up your scarf and toss it aside. “Stressful.”

He stares at you for a hard moment, visibly concerned as if he can tell there’s something troubling on your mind. “Is something the matter?” He asks carefully, sitting down next to you. He holds you at arm’s length so he can look at you properly. “Is this about the test?”

“What? Oh, no, not the test. I doubt the results will come in until sometime next week.” The lie slips out easier than it should, and you feel guilt slowly start to twist your insides. Just a white lie, you tell yourself. It can’t hurt anyone but yourself. He’s been through enough today. He’s tired. Not tonight. It can wait. “I’m just tired,” you shrug. “I need some dinner and a nap, then I’ll be all good again. Do we still have anything in the fridge or should we order takeout?”

“I already ordered chicken from Yong’s. I had a feeling that today would be a bad day for the both of us,” Jaemin grins. His smile is smug at first, then endearing when he sees your shock.

You practically pounce on him in excitement, and the two of you go crashing into the couch cushions until you have him pinned beneath you. “Oh my god, I fucking love you, you know that?”

Jaemin groans, curling into himself as he gives you a wounded look. “And that’s how you show your love? By trying to break my bones?”

“Besides the point,” you huff. “You aren’t going to say it back?”

“Yes, of course. I love you too.”

Unsatisfied with his answer, you lower your face so your lips are hovering just inches above his. He looks up at you starry-eyed, his fingers ghosting over your cheeks; you can’t help but notice the way his gaze travels briefly to your lips.

Then you realize how dangerous this is. You know that he’s not the one. You know that you’ll eventually part ways with him when he finds out, no matter how reluctant you’ll feel. Every moment you spend with him like this will come back to haunt you when he’s gone. It will become another reminder of what you’re about to lose, yet here you are, falling deeper into his embrace, intoxicated by his scent and lost in the depth of his eyes. You are only tying more strings between the two of you, strings that will need to be stretched and snapped. You are only making it more painful for the both of you.

But for tonight, you don’t care.

“Say it like you mean it,” you whisper.

He holds your face gently, and those sparks you felt upon your first meeting with him are still there, igniting each time he looks at you, blazing into an open flame when he tells you, “I love you.”

You kiss him with more urgency this time, your lips meeting his in a clash of teeth and tongue. He puts his hands around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer to him. For just a moment, you’re focused on only him and his presence. For just a moment, you forget about everything; the sheet of test results is just another piece of paper in your bag, the blue mark just another colour. Because tonight, he is all that matters to you.

You met Na Jaemin almost three years ago.

Though the details have faded with time, you remember your first conversation well. It began at a friend’s art show beneath the golden glow of the studio lights, the two of you surrounded by brilliant splashes of colour and bold strokes of texture. Renjun had insisted on introducing you to Jaemin before you even arrived at the gallery, and you couldn’t have possibly refused. Your friendship with Renjun goes way back to the 40s, and you often think he knows you better than you know yourself. “I think he could be good for you,” he told you quietly just before leaving to speak with his other guests.

At first, Jaemin seemed timeless. It was as if he didn’t belong to any particular time period, as if he had lived to see several generations rise and fall, but had never risen or fallen with any of them. Dressed elegantly in a fitted turtleneck and a wool coat, he appeared youthful and contemporary; yet the way he spoke hinted at a certain maturity, at wisdom and sagacity. There was something charming about him too, something about the way he recounted events of the past and drew you in with only his words.

Next to a breathtaking oil painting of the sea, you discovered your commonalities. He was almost two decades younger, but like you, had spent his entire life searching for a partner without much success. You were delighted to learn that he had also worked in teaching—though he mentioned changing careers frequently whenever things became too mundane. He was effortlessly intriguing, and every word he spoke was lively and animated. He infused your conversations with colours, painted everything in bright yellows and aquamarines that matched the swirling paint strokes of the artworks around you, left you wanting to know more without even trying.

You left the gallery that night with his number in your coat pocket. Needless to say, Renjun was thrilled.

Weeks passed before you saw him again. Your busy schedules always managed to get in the way of your plans, but the two of you still kept in touch, chatting late into the night and well into the early hours. As the months went by, you dared to hope that maybe he was the one.

You immediately scolded yourself for being naive. With all your past partners, you had been hopeful in the same way, only to be let down in the end. Your test when you were with Donghyuck came back blue, as did the one with Mark. Both have since moved on, found their soulmates and written their happy endings. Even if you still stay in touch and meet up for an occasional coffee, you know that you are only a distant memory to them in some way or another.

The prospect of the same thing happening with Jaemin had never occurred to you—you’d been so caught up in getting to know him, so blinded that you’d completely forgotten. And then you saw him differently. As if he were a flame that could be snuffed out in an instant, a feather that could be sent flying with the slightest breeze, the slightest breath. You mulled over it for weeks and always did so silently, until it finally came up in conversation.

Almost a year had passed since you’d met him. With the summer coming to an end, the two of you had driven down to the Han River where you sat in the open trunk of his car, sharing a can of cheap beer from the convenience store. There were no words, only the faint melody of an old pop song buzzing from your phone and his hand around yours.

“Move in with me,” he said at last, glancing at you expectantly, trying to gauge your reaction. It wasn’t completely out of the blue—you’d been searching for a new apartment for weeks—but it still took you by surprise. “Too fast?” He asked when he registered your shock.

“No, not at all,” you shook your head and squeezed his hand. “Don’t get me wrong Jaem, I’d love to. It’s just, I don’t know about any of this. About us. If we’re actually…”

He hummed a quiet response, his brows furrowing slightly in contemplation. “Soulmates,” he said with a melancholic sigh. “You don’t want to go any further before we know for certain. I understand.”

You nodded. “It always hurts, you know? You think you’ve finally found them only to realize you’ve been completely wrong the whole time.”

“I know,” he said, and his empathy flooded you with warmth and reassurance. “You always think you’ll be prepared for the next time. You always think it will hurt less as time goes by. But it doesn’t.”

“Exactly.”

You tipped the last of the beer into your mouth; it tasted faintly sweet on your tongue before dissolving into a pleasant bitterness that hit the back of your throat. When you were finished, Jaemin took the empty can and fiddled with the tab, bending it back and forth until it snapped off.

“I want it to be you,” he told you after a few minutes of silence. “I want it to be us.”

“And if we aren’t?”

He kissed you, hard enough for you to see stars. It wasn’t desperate or longing, but it seemed to convey a hundred different thoughts all at once, a hundred different emotions for you to decipher. When he finally pulled away, his voice was thoughtful and he was seemingly lost in a pleasant daydream. “Oh, love, the universe has already cursed us to search eternally. We may as well spend eternity together.”

“Seriously, Jaemin, what if we aren’t?”

The tremor of your voice snapped him out of it. The glimmer of hope disappeared from his pupils and the dream slipped from his hands.

“We’ve been alive for so long,” you continued, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t think I can go on like this. What if we aren’t meant to be? What will we do?”

You didn’t regret your time with Donghyuck or Mark or Jungwoo or any of the people you were lucky enough to have met, but you’d watched all of them from afar, watched them grow while you stayed frozen in time. Each new generation that came along was only a reminder of your loneliness. You felt a certain emptiness each time you invited new people into your life, one that deepened when they eventually left you behind. Or worse, when they gave you their pity. You couldn’t stand it when people told you that it was unfair or that you deserved better, all while they lived comfortably with their soulmates. You weren’t jealous, nor could you ever be angry at them for something beyond their control. Your anger was directed at the invisible forces that toyed with the world, the mischievous hands spinning the universe in some strange direction that left only you disoriented.

His expression took on a faint sadness and when he spoke again, his voice was calm, barely a whisper. “Then so be it. If you need to move on, it would be selfish of me to stop you from doing so.” He stared out at the waters wistfully, at the yachts sailing downstream. “And besides, you’re right. Maybe it’s time we settle down… even if it’s not with each other.”

Your birthday came a few months after that night, but you held off on testing. The bus you took home from work passed by one of the labs, but you never got off at the stop, always watched the doors open and close from your seat. The test isn’t that accurate anyways, you told yourself; it could produce only an approximate biological age, so maybe the longer you waited, the better.

But in the end, it was simply an excuse to escape reality, to avoid your confrontation with fate itself.

You moved in with him just before the end of the year.

New Year’s Eve wasn’t a big deal for you (you’d lived through too many for it to be exciting), but you spent the last minutes of the year with him, surrounded by cardboard boxes waiting to be unpacked. Jaemin had still made some sort of effort at festivities despite your indifference: pale pink and gold candles lit around the living room, golden champagne in delicate glasses set on the table.

You were almost asleep when the clock struck twelve, wrapped up in one of his oversized sweaters and a white throw blanket. The celebratory music blaring from the TV was muffled in your ears, a pleasant symphony that lulled you deeper into sleep until Jaemin awoke you with a kiss.

“Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Happy New Year, Jaem,” you mumbled, a smile ghosting your lips as you focused on the comfort you felt in his arms; on the new year, on your new home, new hope.

You know something’s wrong.

Jaemin doesn’t come out to greet you, even after you announce your arrival. He’s home—his shoes and coat are put away neatly like any other day—yet it’s deathly silent, terribly still. No music playing in the living room, no voice down the hallway. Only the occasional chirp from your broken smoke detector, which you’ve been meaning to fix for weeks. As you bend down to unlace your boots, you can’t help but worry.

You find him in your shared bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the comforter. The sun has almost set and the shadows stretch across the room, blanketing him in darkness and masking his expression with ambiguity. He doesn’t move when you turn on the lamp on the bedside table. He doesn’t move when you sit next to him.

There’s a familiar sheet of paper in his hands.

“Jaem, I…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

It isn’t accusatory or hostile; his voice is laced with nothing but sadness, yet you feel so much guilt, guilt that closes around your throat and squeezes the air out of your lungs, leaving you breathless. You kept it from him for days, and now this is the way he must find out about it. From a piece of paper you were careless enough to leave where he might find it. From a piece of paper detailing the DNA extracted from a sample of your blood. You should have told him.

“I didn’t know how to,” you let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you serious?” There it is, the cold edge that begins creeping into his voice as he stares down at you. He flicks a finger in the direction of the date printed at the top of the paper. “It’s been a week, Y/N. You kept this from me for a week. Why?”

“I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, okay?” It comes out sharper than you intended; you immediately begin to drown in guilt as soon as you see Jaemin’s expression fall. You didn’t mean to lash out, and now you make up for it by taking his hands in yours. They're ice cold. “Look, the day I found out, you were already tired from work. I didn’t want to bring it up and make everything worse—”

“So you lied. Said the results hadn’t come in yet,” he says flatly and you rush to defend yourself, only to realize that he’s right.

“I’m sorry.”

The rest of your words don’t come. With a tired exhale, you bury your head in your hands, too overwhelmed to say anything else. You can only hope that he’ll understand, that he’ll empathize and that he’ll forgive you, even if you don’t exactly believe you deserve any of it right now. You hold back the tears. Only when he pulls you into his arms do they fall. He takes your hands, gently pulling them away from your face so he can wipe your tears despite your protests. There’s no coldness in his expression now, only concern.

“I needed time to process everything,” you continue, but you choke on the words. “I couldn’t even accept it myself, I couldn’t—”

“I know, love,” he says quietly as his thumb brushes against your cheek. “I know. It’s alright.”

Your silent sniffles turn into unrestrained sobs as he pulls you into his embrace, your pent-up emotions finally released in the form of silvery streams on your cheeks. You aren’t sure how much time passes. The sun meets the horizon in a hazy line of faint pink and orange. The sky darkens. Outside, the city lights up in a multitude of hues, the amber light from the street below seeping into your room. The minutes go by, but Jaemin never lets go of you until your tears have run dry.

“Better?” He asks, albeit his voice is shaky, his gaze trembling when he looks up at you. You nod.

“We’ll figure this out,” his eyes seem to say. You can tell he’s just as terrified as you are, just as unsure and as lost. Though for now, you simply hold each other. You say nothing about the paper that lays discarded on the floor or what it entails, even if you both feel the need to address it, to face its implications. In this moment of brokenness, neither of you have the strength to do so.

You eventually collect yourselves. You make dinner and force yourselves to eat before passing a meaningless hour in front of the TV. You clean up, wash up. Sleep early in preparation for tomorrow. Jaemin never leaves your side.

“Where do we go from here?” You whisper into the darkness of your bedroom.

“Tomorrow, love,” you hear him say just before slipping into unconsciousness, into restless sleep.

According to Lee Donghyuck, the chances of meeting your soulmate are 1 in 10 000. Or at least, scientifically. Theoretically. Donghyuck was a man of logic and reason, and had your lives not revolved around soulmates like the earth revolved around the sun, perhaps he wouldn’t have believed in fate at all.

“Remove fate from the equation,” Donghyuck mumbled to himself thoughtfully, jotting a few numbers down on a paper napkin. “And let’s assume your soulmate is around your age.”

“Can’t you rule that one out too?” You pointed out, but he was too busy, already lost in his thoughts.

“If your soulmate is determined at birth and instantly recognizable at first sight… And they’re actually alive somewhere in the world…”

You watched the quick movements of his blue pen with intrigue. He spun the pen restlessly, allowing its barrel to cross over and under and between his fingers, at times so quickly that it became nothing but a blur of colour. Finally, he scribbled a final verdict and inked two definitive circles around it. “If fate hadn’t been so kind, the chances would have been one in ten thousand. One lifetime out of ten thousand.”

“That slim? Ten thousand lifetimes, that’s nearly impossible,” you said, skeptical but amused at his train of thought nonetheless. You took the napkin from him and looked over his calculations, though some of the numbers were too big for you to check without a calculator. You trusted that Donghyuck had done them correctly though. “You know, if you told that to someone who’d spent a century searching for their soulmate, they’d probably beat you up. You’re lucky I like you.”

He giggled. “We’re lucky it’s only hypothetical.” He took the napkin from you and crumpled it, smudging the neon blue ink on the tips on his fingers.

With Donghyuck, things were simpler. He was young, young enough to not be in a hurry, young enough to speak his thoughts so freely. He never pitied you or worried about offending you, and he never treated you as if you were out of place among the new generations. He offered you perspective. You knew that you weren’t meant for each other, but you were still content to spend your time with each other. To wait together.

“So… I might have found a new place.”

You don’t miss the surprise on Jaemin’s face when you tell him over dinner. His eyes widen a bit in curiosity, his brows arching upwards and his mouth falling slightly agape. He sets his fork down against his plate, folding his hands together the way he does when he’s deep in thought.

“Already?” He inquires. Maybe you imagine a hint of disappointment in his voice, a slight dip in his tone. He looks at you with a sort of sadness, as if trying to imagine what it would be like with you gone, to come home to an empty apartment every night. “Seriously, Y/N, you’re welcome to stay if you need to. We said we would take the changes slowly.” His words aren’t just out of consideration for you.

More than a month has gone by silently, and within that time, the frigid cold of winter has finally given way to spring. Nothing has really changed when you think about it, as if your test results are meaningless. And you suppose that they have become just that, a meaningless scrap of paper at the bottom of the recycling bin in the kitchen. Jaemin still holds you the same way, though his touches are just a little bit more fleeting. Your conversations still extend late into the night, though they feel just slightly melancholic. You hang onto his every word even while telling yourself not to, that maybe there is no point in doing so when everything is already coming to an end.

“I don’t know if I’ll take it… at least not for sure. And even if I do, I won’t be moving in until April. I just thought I’d tell you ahead of time,” you tell him, reaching across the table to take his hand. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I think I need some time alone. So I can adjust to all of this.”

“No, I understand. It’s just a little jarring, you know? Don’t know what it’ll be like without you here.”

“It’s literally only a block away,” you giggle, and he smiles. “I’ll still be here.”

After the coolness of February comes grey skies and a drizzly March, heavy rainfall washing the white snow to grey slush. Eventually, the clouds part across the sky for the sun, allowing the brilliant blue of the sky to peek through. April comes sooner than expected, producing blooms of yellow and white in the flowery courtyards of your new apartment complex, bursts of bright colours along the cobblestone paths.

You stand surrounded by boxes in the middle of your new studio apartment, watching the people pass by on the streets below. The windows are cracked open for air and you can hear the bustle outside, the yells of the street vendors, an occasional shriek of a child’s laughter. The new bedframe and mattress you ordered stand leaning against the wall in the corner, waiting to be assembled. Jaemin stumbles through the door with another box and sets it down before dusting his hands off on his jeans.

“That’s the last one,” he says. He collapses on the couch that the previous owner left behind, out of breath. You sit down next to him, allowing him to rest his head on your lap. He finally looks around, then at you. “Everything you hoped for?”

You nod happily. “I’ll miss having you around though,” you chuckle, playing with the soft strands of his hair, freshly dyed—after losing a drunken bet to Renjun a week ago, he reluctantly let the latter bleach and tone his hair bright silver. But you think it suits him; it accentuates the darkness of his eyes and paleness of his skin, gives him a cold and chic edge offset by the gentleness of his smile.

“I’ll still be here,” he repeats your words from two months ago. “And you’ll be much closer to work, right? No more crazy subway routes and early mornings. At the cost of me being your personal alarm clock, of course.” He grins, and you smack him with a red throw pillow.

“I won’t miss that,” you roll your eyes teasingly.

“Whatever you say, love.” He lifts his head off your lap to press a kiss against your cheek.

You spend the rest of the afternoon with him, unpacking boxes, hanging up clothes, building the bedframe and fitting the mattress with clean sheets so that at least you’ll have somewhere to sleep tonight. When the sun sets, everything is lit in an ethereal glow, and you stare out the floor-length windows, admiring the sky. Jaemin joins you after a moment, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you rock back and forth to the steady rhythm of the music playing from his phone.

When he leaves in the evening, he gives you a final hug, jokingly telling you not to miss him too much. When he’s gone, you find yourself staring out the window once more, at the blocky silhouette of Jaemin’s building a few blocks away. He pointed it out earlier, thrilled that you could see so far from this high up.

You quickly learn that on cloudy days, it is nothing but a smudge of grey in the distance.

While Donghyuck always tried to ease your worries with reason and strokes of pen ink on his skin, Mark took you on long drives around the city, hoping that the wind blowing through your hair would clear your mind.

On late nights when you couldn’t sleep, you often found yourself in the passenger seat of his 1975 Hyundai Pony, listening to static-laced 80s rock music while he drove you around the streets of Seoul. He would always roll the windows down in the summer and watch the contentment on your face, one hand around yours while the other guided the wheel.

Mark Lee was even older than you—and with all the wars and tragedies he’d lived through, he understood what it felt like to be kept awake by the nightmares. To be kept awake by thoughts of loved ones being blown to bits, to be haunted with memories of the past. With how long he’d been searching for the right person, he knew the urgency you felt and the longing to finally settle down with a soulmate. He understood.

The stories he told you were woven between puffs of cigarette smoke and gentle kisses on your forehead. He told you about Canada and the mountains that surrounded Vancouver, where he’d spent some time in the 40s. He told you about his family, about his brother’s grandchildren who looked older than he did. It was strange, he’d admitted with a small laugh and sadness in his smile.

The two of you often pointed out buildings along the side of the road, reminiscing what stood in their place before the bulldozers and big trucks rolled in. Just down the street from his apartment, the old drive-in cinema was being replaced by an upscale theatre. Next to it, a park was being cleared for a new shopping centre. Even the studio he’d rented out last summer had been demolished so a new entertainment agency could build its empire. Once in a while, he would drive by and stare ruefully at the construction site—the classical compositions he’d once recorded there were being replaced by a new type of music, with catchy beats and pretty pop stars dressed in shiny outfits.

His music had been drowned out by a new industry, and likewise, many of the things you remembered from your childhood have been lost to time. Talking about the past with him helped you remember. It was a sort of reassurance even as you moved on.

Mark eased a bit of your pain, staying out with you until the early hours of morning to make sure that you were alright. The next morning, he would almost always call to ask if you’d slept okay, unless there was an issue with the old landline phone in his office. All concept of time disappeared when you were with him, along with your memories and the demons haunting your dreams. But eventually, he would drop you off at home and bid you goodnight, leaving you to watch him drive away. Eventually, the night came to an end.

He couldn’t stay with you the whole night, nor could he stay with you forever.

Your evenings are often interrupted by Jaemin’s messages asking you to come over. Sometimes he says that he misses you, or he wants to see you for dinner. Other times, he kisses you breathless against the closed door as soon as you’ve stepped inside, always with an unmatched fervour and urgency as if you might slip right through his grasp and disappear.

Tonight, however, it’s neither.

It’s half past midnight when your phone is set off in a series of quick vibrations. Wrapped in nothing but a towel with your hair still dripping, you type in a reply, hesitate, press send. You get changed, slipping into a pair of jeans and an oversized T-shirt before grabbing your keys.

Jaemin is uncharacteristically quiet when he opens the door for you, his gaze downcast so you can’t see his expression. He’s deteriorating; you can see it in the way he turns his back to you after locking the door, the way he walks inside with a halfhearted invitation for you to follow.

“What’s wrong?” You ask when you’ve sat down across from him.

“I think I found them,” he mumbles and you notice how he averts your gaze. “My soulmate, I mean. I think I found her.”

“Wait, then why with the long face? Jaem, that’s great—”

He cuts you off with a sharp bark of emotionless laughter. His expression turns bitter when he pulls his sleeve up to reveal a mark along his wrist: two linear streaks of dark purple that twist together like the centre petals of a rose. He stares at it, almost with contempt. Apart from the standardized DNA tests, markings are the only other way to identify soulmates, though they almost never show. No one has any proper explanation for them and you have no explanation for why Jaemin has one now.

“Don’t get me wrong, I think she’s great. She’s smart. She’s funny. We have the same mark so I know it’s her,” he says shakily. “But god, I must have really fucked up in a past life to deserve this.”

You feel dread. It hits you all at once, because the way Jaemin speaks is so distant and unnerving, as if he’s lost himself in a trance and forgotten all about you. You’ve seen this dazed look before, only twice, when he was truly distressed and truly lost. This isn’t like him.

He found her. He should be happy. You should be happy for him. He should be happy.

“What is it?”

“I think I’m broken. Something’s wrong with me.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, and you try to keep the urgency out of your voice for his sake. He doesn’t say anything. “Jaemin?”

“I don’t feel anything when I’m with her. Nothing.”

You don’t register his words. They don’t make any sense to you. They are barely coherent. No, you think. That can’t be possible.

“Maybe we rejected each other in a past life and then both offed ourselves. Or maybe this is just the universe’s way of saying ‘fuck you.’ Maybe—”

“Stop that,” you tell him firmly. “Whatever this is, there has to be an explanation for it. Marks don’t just appear out of nowhere, right?” You pause to take a shaky breath, suddenly realizing that your words aren’t meant to comfort only him. “We can look into it. We can figure out what’s going on. This is the 21st Century, remember?”

“But what am I even supposed to tell her?” He demands, his tone exasperated and his brows furrowed together. “‘I know you’ve been looking for me for your whole life, but I can’t see you as anything more than a friend, sucks for you’? What do I do, spend the rest of my life drowning in guilt and self-pity because I couldn’t love her the way she wanted me to? Because I could only pretend?”

You have no answers for him. Perhaps he hasn’t felt anything for her because he hasn’t let go of you. Perhaps it really was a mistake, a freak accident in the cosmos that put the wrong marks on the wrong people, designating a pair that was never meant to be. Your thoughts run wild, but you can’t put anything into words for him. Even if you could, you don’t think you would have the strength to say anything aloud.

Instead, you hold him in your arms, wiping away the tears of frustration that have formed at the corners of his eyes, running your fingers through his hair. You can only hope that his soulmate will do the same for him some day, perhaps in some future where the cruel forces watching over you cease their endless games. Genuinely, you hope.

The tone goes off a third time. You glance at the clock across the room: 11 AM. He has to be up by now, you think to yourself as your fingers continue drumming a repetitive rhythm onto the kitchen counter.

“Hello?”

Just before the automated voice can tell you to leave a voicemail, he picks up. Donghyuck’s voice is groggy, as if he’s just woken up—or maybe he’s just about to go to bed. With his disaster of a sleep schedule, you can never be sure.

“Hi, it’s me.”

“Oh hey, you, I know you.” You hear him chuckle on the other end of the line. “How are you, Y/N? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

“I’m alright, the usual, I guess. How about you? How’s Jeno?”

“Jeno adopted another cat because he’s fucking insane, so now we have three little furballs running around the house. But yeah, it’s going great! So great,” he drawls with a familiar bite of sarcasm. You smile to yourself. “If he brings home another one because ‘Oh Hyuck, look it’s so cute, can we keep it?’ I will literally choke him in his sleep. Anyways, what’s going on? You never call me.”

“You never pick up,” you huff, earning a small laugh from him. “Okay, I wanted to ask you something. What do you know about soulmate marks?”

Thoughtful silence. “Not much. I mean, I’ve got my theories, but nothing has really been proven. Why, did you get one?”

“No, not me. Jaemin.”

“Oh, Y/N… then that means…”

“It’s alright, don’t concern yourself with me, Donghyuck. I’m more worried about him, honestly.”

“Hm?”

“He found his soulmate recently, but it’s not exactly… it’s not going as expected, let's just say that. He said he feels almost nothing when he’s with her, and to make things worse, apparently now it’s mutual. God, Donghyuck, they’re so awkward with each other, it physically hurts me.”

Donghyuck is silent again, and you hear the faint clicking of his keyboard. You can almost see his contemplative gaze and the soft blue glow of his computer screen lighting his face. “Did they know each other at all before the marks appeared?”

“Yeah, they were coworkers.”

He hums. “Okay… that could be why. Marks have a tendency to appear if soulmates have been around each other for extended periods of time without realizing it. It’s like nature’s way of telling them that the person they’re looking for is right in front of them. As for why they haven’t felt anything for each other? I dunno… reincarnation can really fuck with people. Any previous sentiments for your soulmate stick with you as you pass on, even if you’re both reborn completely different people.”

I must have really fucked up in a past life to deserve this. Jaemin’s words echo in your head.

“Obviously, there’s still opportunity to fix things,” Donghyuck adds quickly before you can get too lost in your thoughts. “It just takes time. Honestly, I wouldn’t be too concerned”

“I know, I know,” you groan. “I’m just upset that after everything he’s gone through, this is the shit he has to deal with.”

“Yeah. I can’t even imagine.” He pauses. “You know, a lot of people would just run off if they were in the same situation. He’s lucky to have you.”

You give a breathless laugh and shrug. “I feel like it’s the least I can do.”

“You never give yourself enough credit,” Donghyuck says, a hint of melancholy to his voice. There’s a sudden noise in the distance that cuts him off, and he curses beneath his breath. “Shit, the new cat’s not trained yet and I think she’s doing something stupid in the kitchen. Jeno will kill me if anything happens to her.”

You suppress a giggle. “Go ahead. We can catch up some other time.”

“Of course. See you, Y/N.”

The line clicks.

If Donghyuck taught you to be hopeful and Mark taught you to be strong, Jungwoo taught you to be brave.

Kim Jungwoo was your first love, and in many ways, you consider him to be irreplaceable. Perhaps it had simply been the result of young naivety back then, but you thought he was unlike any other person you’d ever met. In hindsight, he was different. A bright light dancing his way into your life when you were only a child in the 30s, a free-spirited boy who went where he pleased despite living under such an oppressive regime.

The Kims lived only a few doors down. You frequently saw the boys in their front yard kicking a beat-up soccer ball back and forth between them. Jungwoo was the middle child, and he sat right in front of you in class, his back always perfectly straight against his wooden chair so as to avoid the teachers’ chastisement. He was a quiet boy, and he never said a word unless it was to answer a question. But even then, his voice was small—not exactly shy or scared, just quiet. He quickly learned to raise his voice when the teacher hit him on the back of the hand with a ruler and demanded he speak up, when the wood scraped apart the skin of his knuckles.

At the time, when Japanese was all too foreign on your tongue and you struggled to understand anything taught in class, you thought he was a genius. He always had the right answers when he was called upon and there wasn’t a trace of an accent in either of his languages. Not that you heard him speak Korean much; you didn’t dare speak it unless you were hidden in your own homes, where your parents could discuss the uprisings without having to worry about the police roaming freely outside. Though, they still spoke in hushed voices as if anyone could hear them, as if terrified for what could happen if someone did hear.

The first time you spoke to Jungwoo properly was in middle school. After a humiliating incident at school that left you in tears, he ran to catch up with you on the way home and spoke to you in timid Korean, offering to help. You were still teary-eyed and beyond upset, but you let him guide you through your homework. He rambled to you about the Japanese grammar you couldn’t understand and explained the mistakes you’d made for your teacher to lash out at you the way she had. It didn’t stop you from making the same mistakes the next day, but at least he was patient, unlike the adults at school.

“You’re not stupid,” he told you one afternoon on the way home. Again, you were in tears.

“But the teachers think I am,” you grunted. “And I feel stupid. I can’t understand a word they say. I never have the right answers. Everything I say is wrong. If that’s not stupidity, I don’t know what it is.”

“Y/N, all we do at school is memorize meaningless facts that don’t really matter,” he replied with a shrug. “Just because you can’t shove all that information into your head doesn’t mean that you’re stupid. Look at Doyoung. He was failing school but he’s still one of the smartest people I know. He just… learns differently.”

“So? That doesn’t make me smart either. They still think—”

Jungwoo scoffed. “Who cares what they think? I think you’re wonderful, and they’re the real freaks. Miss Ito, especially.” He wrinkled his nose. “She smells funny.”

“Hey, be nice, Jungwoo,” you chided, but you were laughing. He was effortlessly funny and it was such a pleasant contrast to the way he acted at school. He was always so disciplined and perfect when the adults were watching, but he seemed to let loose around you. It made you feel… special, in a way. Validated, accepted. Something you never felt at school.

You walked home with him almost everyday from then on. You became inseparable, even when your school shut down and sent all the students to gender-segregated schools, even when your parents worried that you were spending too much of your time with him instead of studying. Even when war arrived.

The Second World War plunged your lives into darkness; Jungwoo quickly became the only light to guide you. He was there for you while your parents were away, while they laboured in the factories making helmets and guns and bullets so that they could at least put food on the table. He was there when the light at the end of the tunnel went dim, though he was miles away from home.

Jungwoo had never struck you as a fighter or rebel, even if he had the physique of a soldier. He had the drive and the courage and the steel to fight, but you only saw gentleness in his monthly letters to you. The last letter you received from him still sits in a drawer somewhere, the last words he wrote sealed in a plastic envelope so that they won’t fade away.

You took the test a few months after the war ended, only because he had pleaded with you to do so. Even if I don’t make it home, he wrote to you in the same curving script he’d used to teach you years ago. Promise me.

When the receptionist gave you a piece of paper with an X marked next to your name—there were no colour indicators back then, only X’s and hollow circles—a part of you felt relief that you couldn’t quite explain. Another part of you was disgusted, convinced that you were being selfish and apathetic. You thought that maybe you had no regard for him; that you only cared for yourself and a stranger you were still searching for. He’d risked his life to join the rebel army, fought on the frontlines with the Allies, and you repaid him with nothing.

It would take you years to come to the conclusion that your reaction was only natural. It would take you years to heal and start seeing other people. In due time, you would stop frequenting the church in your hometown and your fingers would cease to brush against the memorial stone in the yard, upon which his name was carved. Just one name among many.

Jaemin’s hands are all over you: in your hair, around your throat, pushing you against the wall as he kisses you. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls on the strands, forcing your head back a bit so he can continue trailing his lips over your neck and collarbones.

“We can’t be doing this,” you tell him when you manage to pull away. His arms come around your waist anyways and he buries his head in the crook of your neck. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, and you glance behind him to see empty soju bottles on the kitchen counter.

“I’m not with Jieun,” he snarls. “Besides, like I said. I think we’re fucked. We aren’t meant to be.”

“Don’t say that,” you hiss, taken aback by his sudden coldness. “This isn’t fair to her.”

“It’s mutual, remember? I bet she’s out there doing the exact same thing with some other guy. She doesn’t need me.”

“Jaem—”

“We’re fucked. She told me she doesn’t need me, and I told her the same.”

You’re horrified. “You did what?”

“Hilarious, isn’t it? We had our first fight, and we aren’t even together yet.” He scoffs, pushing a hand through his hair in irritation. “Some type of soulmate.”

You’ve never heard him talk like this. He’s out of his mind. He’s lost it. “Fuck, Jaem, how much did you drink?”

“Not enough to feel better, clearly,” he snaps.

“Alcohol and whatever this is between the two of us isn’t going to make you feel any better. This isn’t going to fix your problems.”

“Then what do you want me to do?!” His words are sharp, his expression hard when he glares at you. “You tell me to move on and to give her a chance and to stop doing whatever—” he motions frantically. You’ve never seen him so wild, so out of control, and you’ve almost never seen him lash out at anyone like this. “—whatever the fuck this is, but do you even know how it feels? Do you even care?”

A sharp intake of breath, and then the world is crashing down around you.

The feelings you fought to suppress re-emerge, rising up to crush you and force you into relapse. Doubt. Regret. Guilt. The little voice in the back of your head is a raging monster now, and it shouts at you, screaming at you in a blind rage. Telling you that you’re heartless and self-absorbed and indifferent, everything you believed you were when Jungwoo died. Reinstating what you know isn’t true. You know he doesn’t mean it. You know that it’s just alcohol fueling the words spewing from his lips and nothing more, but they still bring back unpleasant memories, a sense of dread you can’t shake.

He realizes, albeit a bit too late. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

If you knew how much it hurts me to watch you do this to yourself. If you knew how much it hurts me knowing that there’s only so much I can do for you. “Don’t. I get it.”

For a few seconds, the room is silent, save the ticking of the clock behind you. It reminds you briefly of a memory that you can’t quite grasp, like a flash of deja vu before you spiral back down to the present reality where you stand in cold, frigid silence. The broken smoke detector chirps.

“I should go,” you say at last. You go to grab your keys from where you left them on the counter but he quickly stops you, his hand coming around yours. You look up at him in irritation, pulling away sharply.

“It’s late,” he says shakily, almost pleading. “You shouldn’t walk home at this hour. Not alone.”

“I’ll call a cab,” you shrug before slipping into your sweater and pulling on your shoes. You bid him goodnight and leave him dumbfounded in the living room.

You return home to a sleepless light and endless thoughts in a cold bedroom. A broken record replays his words in your head again and again, until you see Jungwoo’s face floating above you in the darkness. His features are faint, like wisps of smoke that loosely form sad eyes and lips pulled downwards in a frown. And then he’s the one asking, “Do you even care?”

You have no answer for the annoying voice in your head. You stare at the lines of light drifting across the expanse of the ceiling, wide awake as the sky brightens outside.

“How long will you be gone?”

It was the 3rd of August 1995. You knew because the next day would mark 50 years since Jungwoo’s death. The next day, you would be going back to your hometown and laying flowers on the altar in the Kim family home, revisiting the memorial you’d left behind when you moved to Seoul.

You shrugged as Mark passed you his lighter. The old zippo produced a small spark between your fingers, and then the sting of smoke was filling your mouth and nose. You didn’t smoke regularly—you’d stopped years ago—but you sure as hell felt like you needed one tonight.

“I dunno,” you said, taking a long drag from the cigarette. “A couple more days after the ceremony? If I stay any longer, Doyoung might get upset.“

“Upset?”

“He doesn’t like seeing me. Said I bring back bad memories. I think I remind him of Jungwoo too much.”

Mark grimaced. “Well it’s scary, seeing a childhood friend who hasn’t aged in fifty something years… Must he like seeing a ghost.” He paused, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear so that he could see your face. “My nephews feel the same way about me.”

“You remind them of something?” You asked.

“Their father, I guess,” he explained. “My brother… wasn’t the most understanding of them when they were younger. Whenever they see me, all they can think of is their childhood and his abusiveness.”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

He took a moment of contemplative silence “No, not really. I mean, maybe it did at first. But it’s not like I go out of my way to avoid them just because of the memories they associate with me. That would be unfair for me.”

“It would be,” you agreed.

“So then why avoid Doyoung? What he thinks of you is beyond your control. If you remind him of painful memories, that isn’t exactly your fault.”

You sighed. “I don’t know. I just feel like staying out of his way might help him heal. Maybe it’ll help him move on from everything he’s trying to forget.”

“Oh, Y/N.” Mark took your hand with a breathless laugh. His smile was both sad and endearing, as if he were in awe of you—what for, you weren’t too sure until he murmured, “You’re too kind sometimes.” He paused to exhale, smoke escaping his lips and bleeding into the atmosphere, dispersing into the starry sky. He stared into the sky for a few moments, silent.

“But it’s not always up to you to heal their wounds. At some point, they have to learn to heal themselves.”

“What the hell happened to him?”

Jaemin looks like a mess. His hair is disheveled and swept messily all over the place. His skin is unhealthily pale, unusually warm to the touch beneath your fingertips. You can tell he’s had a little too much to drink; he sits on the couch in a daze, his eyes fixated on an invisible point in front of him as if searching for something that is no longer there. He yelps in pain when you wipe at the cut on his lip.

“We bumped into a couple guys at the bar. One of them took a swing at him,” Renjun explains as he passes you the bottle of disinfectant. You carefully apply a drop to a cotton swab. “And it didn’t help that he was also drunk. Thank god Lucas was there to break up the fight.”

“I wasn’t drunk,” Jaemin groans in protest. “Just tipsy.”

“Tipsy? You couldn’t even tell me Y/N’s number.”

“I don’t remember anyone’s number.”

“Well, you couldn’t tell me your own name either. Got any excuse for that one, smartass?”

You ignore their bickering and continue cleaning the cut on Jaemin’s cheek, holding him firmly by the shoulder so he doesn��t move. The cotton quickly turns light pink between your fingers. You briefly examine the red marks along his jaw where he’d been hit, frowning. Jaemin has never been one to get into fights and especially not while under the influence, but the bruises on his cheek and his knuckles suggest otherwise. Hell, he rarely even gets drunk, but it’s becoming more and more frequent, to the point where Renjun makes sure to watch over him whenever they go out together. He’s derailing, you think to yourself as you brush his hair into some sort of order.

“Okay, let’s get you to bed.” You put his arm around your shoulder and help him up to his feet, nearly staggering beneath his weight. Renjun rushes over to help you move him into the bedroom.

“You should probably go home. It’s getting late,” you tell him when Jaemin has been settled in bed. You glance at the clock hanging in the kitchen as you clean up the first aid kit on the table: almost 2 AM. “I’ll stay with him… make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“I really tried to keep him away from the alcohol tonight. I swear I turned away for only a second to deal with Yangyang and he— Ugh, I’m so sorry,” Renjun apologizes again, shaking his head. “This whole soulmate ordeal is really getting to him. I’m worried, Y/N.”

“You know how he is. He always figures it out one way or another” you reassure him. “I’ll talk to him again though. Maybe he’ll actually… listen this time.”

“Well, call me if anything happens. I probably won’t be asleep anyways.”

“I will. Thanks, Jun,” you nod appreciatively.

By the time Renjun has gone home and you’ve finished cleaning up, Jaemin is already asleep. He stirs when you switch off the lamp and reaches out for you in the darkness, fingers intertwining with yours. “Stay,” he mumbles, pulling you a bit closer.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You say as you admire the way the moonlight filters in through the windows and draws pale lines across his cheeks. Despite the cuts marking his skin, he looks so much softer now, innocent, in a way. Again, you’re reminded of the Jaemin you met at the art gallery. He was none of this. None of this pent-up frustration released in empty beer bottles, none of these crimson bruises marking his otherwise smooth skin.

“You have to stop doing this to yourself,” you murmur. There’s no reply at first, and you wonder if he heard you at all.

“I’m sorry,” you finally hear his voice: small, feeble in the darkness. His words become more urgent as he keeps speaking, spilling from his lips uncontrollably. “I shouldn’t have said those things about you. I wasn’t thinking. You know I could never mean it.”

You hush him, wrapping him in the security of your arms. A single tear brushes against the back of your hand, then another. “It’s alright,” you assure him as you rub soothing circles against his back. “You were going through a lot. I understand, okay? It’s okay.”

He shakes his head frantically, his tears falling in steady streams now. You let out a low hiss when you see them stain pink with the blood from the wound on his cheek. “Still, that shouldn’t be an excuse. I’ve managed to fuck up everything since all of this started. I hurt Jieun, I hurt Renjun, I hurt you. I can’t even go to work and look at Jieun without feeling like such an idiot and getting mad at myself for being such a child. Without feeling like maybe I deserve this.”

Your heart drops, then shatters into a million pieces at the bottom of a dark abyss.

“Look at me,” you plead as you take his face in your hands. “Look at me, Jaem, please.” He finally lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours in the stillness. All you can see is brokenness, defeat and regret, a look you knew well. It’s an expression that once followed you around for years, appearing in every mirror and reflection you passed by. An innate, intimate part of you that you despised so much until you came to accept it. “Listen to me, Na Jaemin. You are one of the strongest, bravest and kindest people I’ve ever met, and nothing will ever change the way I see you. You don’t deserve any of this bullshit. You don’t deserve this.”

“If you knew what I told her, Y/N,” he lets out a shaky breath. “If you knew what we told each other when we found out neither of us had any feelings for each other… maybe you would think differently of me.”

“If that’s truly what you believe, fix what you broke,” you say firmly. “Apologize to her. Make things right between the two of you, unless you want to go through this all over again in another life. Things will only get worse if you don’t address them now.”

“And if I can’t?”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you, Jaem.” Trembling, you press your lips to his temple. “Whether or not you end up with her, whether or not you think you deserve this, I love you. And that will never fucking change.”

He leans forwards, his forehead touching yours, his nose brushing against yours and his lips just inches from meeting yours. But he never comes any closer, and you feel no urge to close the distance either. Perhaps it’s a sign that both of you are already starting to let go, to drift apart; this moment is nothing romantic or lustful, nothing more than comforting each other in your brokenness. Nothing more than trying to help each other numb the pain.

“I love you.” His voice trembles, but his words are steady, deep-rooted in sureness.

“Then promise me you’ll try, Jaem. You’ll try to set things right, for both our sake.”

“For you, love,” he murmurs, so quietly that you can barely hear him. His voice is lost to the faint rumbling of the air conditioning unit somewhere outside and the distant noises of traffic. “For you, I would do anything.”

You wonder if he’ll remember any of this in the morning. You wonder if he’ll take your words to heart, or if they’ll simply be enveloped in dreams fueled by drunkenness, reduced by sleep to nothing but a blur.

...it’s not always up to you to heal their wounds. At some point, they have to learn to heal themselves

You’ve done everything you can for him, you decide. Even if you continue to walk by his side, the rest is up to him.

One Saturday morning, Jaemin shows up at your door dressed in black jeans and a button-down shirt, his hair swept up neatly. There’s a kind of brightness to him; it’s not necessarily hope or excitement, but certainly a change from what you’ve seen the last couple of weeks. He’s meeting Jieun for lunch, he tells you nervously. He wants to see you before he goes. You tell him you’re proud of him. That genuinely, you admire him.

The next time you see him, it’s at a floral shop. He’s in the middle of picking out flowers, and he flushes when he sees you. A single rose seemed too cliche, he tells you sheepishly, and asks your opinion. He thinks she’ll prefer something a bit more unique but equally tasteful, equally elegant. You recommend orchids or gerberas. They last longer than roses, but they convey the same message. When he’s gone, you buy a small vase of irises for your apartment; your living room needs a bit of colour.

Weeks later, you find a small package in the mail: a parting gift, you realize when you tear open the padded envelope. It’s nothing too special, nothing fancy or expensive—just a piece of blue glass wrapped in silver accents, attached to a delicate chain that you loop around your neck. When you hold the pendant up to the sun, its blue tint shatters into infinite colours, tossing specks of luminous yellow and orange all over your bedroom. More than just a singular colour, it reflects the other hues around you. And for just a brief moment, you think you see your own reflection.

You watched Jaemin move on just as you’d watched Mark and Donghyuck: from afar, with reserve but at the same time, excitement. Close enough for him to know that you were still there for him, but allowing some sort of distance that grew as the days melded into weeks and then months.

For the most part, he seemed to be alright. His texts were always cheerful, covered in happy emoticons—he used them when he was too giddy with excitement to type actual words. “We figured things out,” was all he said one night, and it was all you needed to hear to know that they’d be okay.

You started to notice the fondness he’d developed for her; it was subtle at first, just a hint of affection in his voice when he told you about her over the phone. Though slowly, it developed into something more. It was just as Donghyuck said: time had forged a relationship out of nothing, out of empty words and empty emotions, growing a garden from a barren piece of wasteland.

The first time you spoke to Kim Jieun, it was over the phone during one of your calls with Jaemin. She’d chimed in on your conversation at some point to say hi, and the way she spoke almost reminded you of Donghyuck: bright, cheery, a little sarcastic in a playful manner. You quickly learned that she was easy-going though brutally honest at times, well-mannered yet well-humoured. Most importantly, she wasn’t judgemental, and she didn’t treat you any differently from Jaemin’s other friends just because you’d been with him previously.

Of course, there was still a sense of yearning, a bittersweetness whenever you saw the two of them together. Your fingers always danced fleetingly along the screen of your phone before pressing like on the photos he posted to his social media. You saw him less and less, only occasionally running into him at the bakery you used to frequent together or at a friend gathering. For the most part, you let the past stay in the past. He seemed happy. And honestly, you were happy for him.

“I told you he’d be fine,” Donghyuck murmured to you at one of Jeno’s rampant parties, once most of the guests had trickled out for the night. The two of you sat on the balcony, watching everyone stumble around in their drunken stupor: Jeno was passed out on the couch with two cats sitting perched on his chest. Renjun was trying to braid flowers into Jaemin’s hair, which he’d recently bleached yet another shade lighter to match Jieun’s platinum locks. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Chenle and Jisung exchange a few bills and bicker over a bet—Chenle was still in denial that Jisung had won, apparently.

“I didn’t doubt you for a second, Hyuck.”

“But you were worried,” he grinned smugly.

“Why wouldn’t I be worried?” You sighed and knocked back the rest of your wine before motioning for him to pass you the bottle. You swiftly poured yourself another glass. “If I couldn’t have my happy ending, at least I wanted him to have his. As… cliche as that sounds.”

Donghyuck raised a brow at you. “What’s to say that you won’t get yours too? They can’t keep you waiting forever. The longest it ever took for someone to find their soulmate was 241 years.”

“Goddamn, are you trying to make me feel better or worse?”

“Better, of course! Okay, what I’m trying to say is that it’s rare for anyone to wait longer than two centuries. If everyone lived for up to three hundred years, we’d have a lot of dictators and other crazies running the world. The universe would spontaneously combust.”

“I know I’m barely even halfway there, but come back to me when I set a new world record,” you rolled your eyes, to which he responded with a small chuckle.

“So what now?” He glanced at Jaemin, who sat across the room with his eyes half-closed, an empty red solo cup in his hands. Jieun had her head on his shoulder, rambling drunkenly about something to Renjun. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought she’d been a part of the group all along; she fit in so seamlessly, and it warmed your heart to see her getting along with everyone.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Nothing for now, I guess. Just waiting.”

“Whoever it is, I’m sure they’ll be worth it,” he hummed in reply.

“You think so?”

“People say that the longer you wait, the better. It’s all in your head, of course, but they have a point.”

You sighed, lifting your head to gaze at the stars hanging overhead. “I suppose they do. Maybe someday I get to find out.”

He patted you on the shoulder reassuringly. “You’ll figure it out. You always have.”

Donghyuck left a little later to get a drunk Jeno to bed, and then you had only the quietness of night to keep you company. Your mind drifted and you contemplated his words, repeating them silently to the wind. The night sky replied with nothing but a gentle breeze against your skin.

You could be patient, you thought as you watched the others inside. You fished the pendant out from beneath your shirt and stared at the reflection in the glass. It was as if you were grasping a piece of the night sky between your fingers: the stars and a crescent moon captured in a single, translucent oval. In the dark, the pendant appeared deep indigo, not too different in hue from the four coloured markings you’d acquired over the years.

But the sun would rise in due time, you thought to yourself mirthfully. Beneath the brightness of morning, you’d hold a different colour in your hands. You tucked the necklace back into the fabric of your shirt. You could wait.

read the epilogue, yellow

#nct #nct fanfic #nct dream #nct dream fanfic #nct jaemin #jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin fanfic #nct angst #nct fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin fluff #the longest shit ive ever written hoLY SHIT #cznnet

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catcze · 3 years

Note

hey, it’s kiwi anon! there’s still a long wait until kazuha comes out (i play on the na server ;;), so i took it upon myself to write some cheesy thing i had on my mind. :)

warning,, it’s cheesy, lengthy, and comfort fluff because i happen to be into that stuff.. sorry, you have been warned!!

(there might be mild grammatical errors too,, sorry i haven’t written something this long in a while- ><)

(it’s also first person because i literally struggle writing second person stuff but i’ll work on it!!)

i’m here today to feed the kazuha simps. 💗

“

Eternity be,

In your fond embrace I find

The warmth in the storm.

”

Clouds shrouded the once sunny streets of Liyue in an unusual darkness. As the streets emptied itself of its plentiful merchants, a silence fell upon the harbor. Perhaps, it was a shadow looking down on my own misfortune.

For months, I had sat idly by the shores of Liyue Harbor, though my efforts were to no avail.

Although the spring had come along to introduce the snug welcome of blossoming flowers, I longed for nothing more than to return to the autumn, when the leaves showered from above and a strange breeze swept me off my feet. Except, that figurative breeze was a human.

I could only grasp what was left of the past and the memories of a mystery I could never solve nor have the courage to investigate, for his gentle smile was something no mortal could uncover. It was like holding onto a thin string that’s only mere seconds away from ripping apart; as the fierce winter wind blew and the sun rose and set in its ever endless cycle, I feared that the ronin had decided to follow his own promise-less wind and that our promise was too much of a burden for him to carry.

I breathed in the earthy scent of rain and heaved a heavy sigh. It was a day of unfruitful waiting made worse by the disruptive weather.

And though the clouds began to thicken and gather from above my head, I was in no rush to hurry into shelter: my show of stubborn grudge against my hapless fate. But as the thunder began to rumble and the familiar touch of raindrops on my skin multiplied, I gave in. I grunted as I stood slowly, still purposely taking my time.

As the fabric of my clothing began to soak and stick to my skin tauntingly, I strolled across puddles, unhurriedly dragging my feet along them. I watched my feet and noticed the ripples I made with each step I took. The little waves reminded me of him and his ventures out at sea. And as the rain poured seemingly without end, I began to dwell on the samurai’s safety. May the Sevens keep him safe through any storms he may face, I prayed to myself.

Storms at sea are treacherous, he once told me; just as the wait for his arrival was quite treacherous, with my patience almost completely spent.

This time, the walk to my home was unusually time consuming. Maybe, despite the rain, part of me refused to admit another defeat.

My pace came to a pause and I spaced out, asking trivial questions in my clouded head. But as I continued to stare down at the drenched ground, looking into my warped reflection, an unfamiliar figure came into view, caught briefly by the edge of my eyesight.

Perhaps, the streets weren’t as empty as I thought they were.

I felt sorry for blocking their path, so I began to shift forward. “Sorry, please excuse me,” I apologized. But when I began to lift my head, I paused in a sudden motion.

There stood my purpose, holding an umbrella; it was as if he was immune to the rain. My eyes traced along the features of his face, taking in the coziness of something so familiar. The depth of his fiery red orbs engulfed me in a newfound warmth in the cold rain. His gaze took in the scene, and we shared a comfortable silence for a while.

“What curious serendipity, Y/N,” he spoke in a soft hum, a tender smile creeping onto his face. I had forgotten how much I missed the way he voiced my name; there was nothing like it. He always spoke with poetic intent, like he was writing a song with his words alone and singing it as they left his lips.

But before I could speak, he abruptly interrupted, “Join me under the umbrella before you catch a cold.” He motioned me towards him with his bandaged hand.

I began to walk towards him, but after such a long wait, I couldn’t hold myself back from running into his arms. Instinctively, he let go of the umbrella and caught onto my figure. When he had processed what was happening, he chuckled lightly, wrapping an arm around my waist and the other around my neck, playing gently with my soaked hair and holding my head close to his chest.

His heartbeat matched the pitter patter of raindrops reaching the ground beneath us. There was no other feeling like this one, for the embrace we shared in that moment felt like something both of us had been waiting for for a lifetime’s worth.

Even as the rain poured onto our bare heads, it felt like autumn had returned once again; the raindrops almost reminiscent of maple leaves in the wind.

“Kazuha,” I mumbled, not knowing what to say next. “Yes, I’m here,” he answered affirmatively, resting one of his merciful hands on my cheek as his thumb wiped a tear that I never noticed I shed.

He was here and that was all that mattered.

- kiwi ! (writing out of self indulgence!!)

(i may or may not be coming for catte’s career. /j)

ajnd KIWI OMG THIS WAS SOO GOOD AAAA <3333

Baby I've been out of inspo for the whole day, so PLEASE Thank you for feeding the Kazuha nation for me 😭💞 My career is yours for the taking, love ♡ /hj

ajdna LITERALLY THO THis was so good?? OMG I'm so bad at putting my compliments into words because I just wanna scream aout how good it was!! But the writing style, the way you described things–– PLEASE I'm in love <333

akjnad That was literally so cute and so sweet and so aAAAA<333 Kiwi anon ilysm omg <333 Please feel free to send me these if you ever feel self indulgent again–– The Kazuha simps and I would be so thankful 🙏😭💞

Also I hope you get Kazuha soon my love!! I don't know how many more hours the NA server has left, but hopefully it's not too long!! <333

#Kiwi anon #Kisses from Catte 🦩#Kazuha x reader #Kaedahara Kazuha x reader #Genshin Impact x reader #akjsdnds PLEASE this was literally so good I––#Cw GN reader

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thefactsofthematter · 3 years

Note

hi bestie <3 you said send in some requests, so i'm suggesting:

javid with, "it's not okay! you're not fine!"?

i hope you have a good day !!!

hi bestie <333 i had so much fun with this, i haven't done a short little fic in ages!! here's a 2.7k javid fic - a college au and a classic (emotional) hurt/comfort type deal, heavy on the comfort ;)

"Wanna come for dinner at my parents' house tonight?"

Davey is laying on Jack's couch after his last class of the day, since Jack's apartment is just off campus, and it's a ridiculously convenient place to go nap after a long day of school. He honestly spends more time here than at his own apartment that he shares with his sister, a short train ride away.

"I'd love to," Jack replies, his gaze still glued to his computer screen, "but I totally forgot I have an art history paper due at midnight, analyzing a painting, and I haven't started. It needs to be ten pages, and I don't even have an outline. I'm gonna sit here and write until my eyeballs fall out."

Davey laughs softly.

"That sucks. Do you at least have some research done?"

Jack turns to him with completely dead eyes.

"Not a single academic source."

Davey glances at the clock. Jack has seven hours to pull this off, which is doable, but... intense. It would've been a lot easier to spread it out over a few afternoons, and it'll be a painful squeeze to get ten comprehensible pages of writing done tonight. Jack can write decently fast, but his spelling and grammar are atrocious, so he'll have to factor in editing time too. Davey is not envious of these circumstances in the slightest.

"Shit. Good luck. That sounds awful, but I'm rooting for you. What's your prof's late assignment policy?"

Jack, entirely beaten down, leans forward to rest his forehead on his keyboard.

"He won't accept them past the due date without a good reason... which I don't have. I'm just an idiot and forgot to put it in my planner— thank god Romeo texted me today to ask if I was done."

Davey pushes himself up and walks over to where Jack is sitting at his little dining table, under the constantly-flickering fluorescent bulb. He wraps his arms around Jack's shoulders and kisses the back of his neck.

"You got this. I'll come back here after dinner and bring you leftovers, okay? My mom's gonna be sad you couldn't make it, so she'll totally pack up a plate for you."

"You don't have to come all the way here," Jack sighs. "Your place is closer to your parents, and this is out of your way— you have work in the morning anyways, so you should go home and go to bed. I'll be fine, I'll probably write faster alone anyways."

Davey kisses him again, this time leaning around to plant one on his cheek.

"If you're sure." Jack's plan is probably the smart move, since Davey's shifts at his stupid coffee shop job start ridiculously early, and coming here would mean staying up with Jack until he finishes, probably distracting him. "In that case, I'll see you tomorrow after work, and I'll bring the food then... keep me posted about the paper, text me when you finish. And make sure you eat something."

Jack turns back to look at him with a strained, stressed attempt at a smile.

"For sure. Go have a nice time with your family, and tell everyone I say hi."

"Aba, you're doing it wrong. You have to use your left arm."

It's getting late in the evening, dinner has been eaten, and Les is trying to coordinate the family to make a TikTok with him. It's not exactly going well.

"My left or your left?"

"It doesn't matter, we have the same left!"

Davey has thankfully been placed in the back row, both because he's tall and lanky, and because he's so uncoordinated that Mom used to make you wear one of those leash backpacks as a kid to keep you from wandering into traffic... which is true, but Davey isn't sure why Les even knows about that. He certainly wasn't around yet when that was the case, so he probably heard it from Sarah.

While Les tries once again to explain how this little dance is supposed to work, Davey's phone starts to buzz in his pocket. It's probably a spam call, but he's not particularly invested in the dance lesson so he pulls it out to check.

Incoming call: cowboy babyy 💖🤠

Davey frowns. Jack never calls him. It's always texts or voice memos, since he's got some kind of weird aversion to talking on the phone. If he's calling, it must be important.

"Hi babe," he says, pressing his phone to his ear and walking off to his old bedroom to get some quiet, while Les shouts at him in the background for not taking this seriously. "How's the homework going?"

Jack is quiet for a second too long as Davey toes the door shut.

"...Not great. I'm really frustrated." He pauses and sniffles a little, sounding almost like he's holding back tears. "I don't know why I called you while you're having a good time with your family, though. I shouldn't be bugging you."

"Hey," Davey breathes, "you're not bugging me at all, sweetheart. Is the paper not going well?"

"I just... I'm so bad at writing, and I don't know what I'm talking about, and I have no idea how I'm gonna get this done in time." His voice is shaking, and it's breaking Davey's heart a little. "I'm being dramatic, though. I just need to keep working on it."

Davey sits down on the edge of what's now a guest bed, his old outer space-themed comforter replaced with something more neutral.

"You're not dramatic, it's okay to be upset. Do you want me to come over and help?"

Jack's breath hitches softly, and it confirms that he's almost definitely crying.

"You don't have to, you're busy with your folks. I'm sorry for calling." He shudders a little as he must try to take a deep breath. "It's okay... I'm fine."

Davey sighs, almost exasperated with Jack's self-sacrificial sense of pride. He'll never ask for anything for himself, not wanting anyone to go out of their way for him, even when he seems to be having a panic attack of sorts.

"It's not okay; you're clearly not fine, Jackie," he replies. "We already ate, and I'm not busy. If you want me to come over, I'll be there... do you?"

Jack is quiet for a moment again, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"Yeah. I do."

Davey nods, though Jack can't see him.

"Okay. I want you to take a little break from writing until I get there, alright? Change into your pyjamas and have a glass of water. Try to relax a little."

"Okay... thanks Davey."

The call ends, and Davey rejoins his family while tucking his phone away in his pocket.

"I have to go." He kisses his mother on the head as he walks by. "Thanks for dinner, Ima."

"Is everything okay?" she asks, catching him gently by the elbow before he can get too far.

"Yeah..." he sighs. "Jack's just having a hard time with homework, I'm gonna go help him out."

His father ruffles his hair and gives him a quick hug.

"You're a good boy, David. Take him those leftovers— your mother's cooking can fix anything."

"For sure. I'll see you guys next weekend, and I'll try to bring Jack along then."

He waves goodbye to Sarah and Les, grabs the dish of food, and then sets off on a speed-walk to the nearest subway station.

Jack is sitting on the couch when he arrives, his knees pulled to his chest, looking very soft and cozy in pyjama pants and one of Davey's old hoodies from some baseball tournament. He's staring into space, and he hardly even moves to acknowledge Davey's presence when he walks in.

"Hey darling." Davey leaves the dish of food on the counter and crouches down in front of Jack to try and catch his eye-line. He carefully takes Jack's hands in his own. "Hanging in there?"

Jack finally looks at him and nods, but as he blinks, more tears slip out and roll down his cheeks.

"I'm only done two pages," he mumbles, practically whispering. "I don't know why it's so hard, but I just can't do it."

"Oh, Jackie..." Davey reaches up to wipe Jack's tears, cupping his face gently with both hands. "Hey, you still have three hours, right?" Jack nods. "That's lots of time. We're gonna figure this out... let's just sit here and calm down a little first. It's gonna be okay."

He climbs up onto the couch to pull Jack into a hug, and the moment he's settled, Jack wraps his arms around him and breaks, sobbing into his shoulder. Davey cards his fingers through his hair and rubs his back; he's never seen Jack this distraught, especially not over homework. There's a good chance the problem runs a lot deeper, and stressing over an assignment was simply the last straw.

"You're alright," Davey continues, since talking is what he does best, even in moments like this. Jack is shaking with the force of his tears, breathing so hard Davey worries he might hyperventilate. "Listen, it's just one assignment, my love... if you get a bad grade, or if we don't finish in time, we can deal with that. We'll hand in whatever we finish tonight, so at least you won't get a zero. Worst case scenario, you retake this class in the spring... even that doesn't sound so bad, does it? I know you could handle it, if that's what happens."

Jack nods a little, but his tears don't stop.

"I'm so tired of being stupid," he hiccups, after a long while. "I keep getting distracted, and I can't word things right, and I spell everything wrong, and- and maybe I should just drop out, because I'm clearly not meant to be doing this."

"Baby..." Davey sighs, giving him a gentle kiss on the temple. "You're so intelligent, Jack. You're almost done your degree— after this term, you've only got one year left, and it's not like you do poorly in your classes, is it? Even when it's something hard for you, like writing, you always do well when you put in the work. What did you get on your sociology paper a couple weeks ago?"

"Ninety percent," Jack mumbles, muffled by the way he's speaking into Davey's shoulder. "But I spent so long on it, and you edited it for me. I'm gonna fail this one. I can't do it in one night, and I can't write papers without your help."

"Well, I'm here to help now, aren't I?" He rests his hand midway through brushing it through Jack's hair and scratches his scalp gently, which makes Jack shiver and laugh quietly through his tears. "Right? And you can write, darling— all I do is fix up the spelling and grammar for you. The ideas and words are all you, just like when you give presentations and knock it out of the park every time. I sure can't do that."

Jack finally looks up at him.

"Yes you can. You get nervous beforehand, but when you do a presentation, it's always really good."

Davey smiles at him, now that they're actually looking at each other.

"It's hard for me, though. Just like writing is for you— but with lots of effort, you're really good at it. See my point?"

Slowly, a small smile spreads across Jack's teary-eyed face, and he nods. Davey feels rather accomplished with this development.

"I guess so." He wipes at his eyes and sighs. "Sorry about this. I'm such a mess."

"No apologies. I don't blame you for getting overwhelmed— you're in a tough spot here." He pulls Jack in for a quick kiss, which they both smile into. "I brought you dinner. Go heat it up when you're ready; I'll look over what you've written so far and see if I can come up with some more ideas to add on. We're gonna work together on it, okay? What painting did you choose?"

"The Martyrdom of Saint Matthew by Caravaggio," Jack sighs, looking almost forlornly at his computer on the table. "I have a lot to say about it, and lots of good stuff in my notes, but I just can't put it into paragraphs and sentences that make sense."

Davey nods, watching Jack as he stands up to go put the leftovers from Davey's family in the microwave.

"Well, I don't know anything about paintings, but if you talk me through it, I can help you put the actual paper together." He pauses as an idea dawns on him. "I'm gonna email your professor and ask about an extension— it might be a shot in the dark, but we should at least try. The worst he can do is say no."

"Sure," Jack replies from the kitchen, his voice still shaky. "He's a total hardass, though. Fingers crossed for a miracle."

Davey sits at the table, opens up Jack's email, and starts a draft.

Hi Professor Diaz,

Apologies for the short notice, but I'm wondering if it would be possible to have an extension on the analysis assignment, even if it's just by a few hours. I unfortunately mixed up some due dates in my planner, and I thought I had an extra week for this assignment; I only realized the mistake today, so I'm currently scrambling to get it done in time.

Would it be at all possible to turn it in a few hours late, just to have a bit more time to finish it up? I would really appreciate any amount of time you're willing to give me.

Thank you in advance for your understanding, Jack Kelly

He shrugs, sends it, and sincerely hopes a little professionalism and a decent (if slightly fabricated to make Jack look less forgetful) excuse will go a long way.

It's quarter to eleven, the paper is now five-and-a-half pages long, and Jack isn't crying anymore. He's in the zone, talking aloud about the painting while Davey helps him get his vague ideas into concrete sentences, and they're on track to have at least seven or eight pages by the time midnight rolls around— it might not get full marks, but it'll be better than nothing.

Jack's computer dings with the sound of a new email while they're taking a two-minute break— something they've interspersed every half hour, since Jack's focus is best in shorter bouts. He's in the middle of walking laps around the apartment to get his energy out and annoy his downstairs neighbours, but he scrambles back to the computer at the noise.

"We got a reply!" he shouts.

Davey is over on the couch, and he watches Jack's face closely as he opens the email. So far, so good... and then he slumps down in his chair in a show of what could either be defeat or relief. Davey can't quite tell, so he jumps up to go read it for himself.

Sure. Email it by 11:59pm tomorrow.

Sent from my iPhone

"Yes!" Davey shouts, grabbing Jack by the shoulders. "I told you it was worth a shot!"

Jack laughs, and then reaches up to pull Davey down for a kiss.

"You're the best, Jacobs. A fucking lifesaver." He rubs at his eyes, and then pushes his computer away, across the table. "I'll deal with this tomorrow. Let's just go to bed— you still have to be up early."

Right. Davey has a dreaded Saturday morning opening shift tomorrow— they open at five, and he has to be there well in advance to get set up, so he's got no chance at getting more than a few hours of sleep. He's going to be dead on his feet in the morning, probably fuck up a few coffee orders, but it'll be worth it to have helped Jack through tonight.

Poor Jack seems completely exhausted— as anyone would be after crying so hard earlier— so collapsing into bed after washing up quickly is an utter relief. Davey, despite being tall and long-limbed, greatly enjoys being the little spoon and Jack is happy to indulge him, so they curl into the familiar position.

"Thank you for everything tonight," Jack whispers, practically into Davey's ear. "I love you so much."

Davey smiles as his eyes fall shut, and he kisses Jack's knuckles softly, where his arm is wrapped around him.

"Any time, darling. I love you too."

#both my current projects are slow burns so an established relationship fic feels good #hope u enjoyed it!!!#javid #jack kelly #davey jacobs #newsies fic #my writing

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smolbeanieee · 3 years

Text

Young K as Dad to Be

this man gonna be the best dad in day6 istg :(

at first, you didn’t knew you’re pregnant

but you still struggling with morning sickness

you thought it is just a sick stomach

and both of you are clueless about pregnancy things

because you and young k always cook random recipe found on the internet

so you guys didn’t think about the pregnancy symptoms at all

almost everyday in two weeks, you kept on vomiting

you eat less, not having any appetite even though you always eat a lot with young k

“you sure u can go to work? i don’t think you have energy :(”

young k concerned asked as he stops the car in front of your office building

“i’m totally okay right now. i promise if i felt dizzy or my stomach acting up again, i’ll call you right away”

however, you collapsed after an hour in the office,

you’re taken immediately to the hospital by your colleagues

young k arrived at the hospital right after he received calls regarding your condition

the doctor brief to him about your pregnancy, leaving him speechless and disbelief as his heart flutters upon hearing the news

he waits for you to wake up—excited to break out the news to you

when he told about your pregnancy, both of you couldn’t help it but to shed some tears at the unexpected news

“we goNNA BE PARENTS!!” young k exclaims happily as he hugs you tightly—planting few kisses on top of your head

as for the 1st trimester

you keep on vomiting every morning

makes young k worried about your conditions

“i just search on the internet, it says it is normal for you to have morning sickness for the 1st trimester”

he explained as he rubs your back soothingly at the bathroom sink

upon hearing that, your lips turns into pouts

“but i’m tired younghyun :((” you said, almost whining to him as you turns to face him

softly leaning towards his chest

“i know baby, just hang in there for this few weeks. i’ll try to look up for any remedies okay, trust me”

young k would buy any chocolates in mint flavors to lessen your nausea and dizziness

did i mention that you gonna be an emotional bitch for this 1st trimester?

because yes you’re a cry baby

you watch young k leaving for work? you cry.

you watch a squirrel fell of a tree? you cry

young k getting stress because of work? you cry

because u feel bad having him to take care of you when he busy with the band

“it’s okay. it’s my responsibility to take of you because you’re my wife” young k assures you

he wipes the tears from corner of your eyes as his arms circling your waist lovingly

as time passes, you will frequently takes naps in the day because you’re tired even just doing chores

so young k would take over when he came home

he will cooks for you

do the chores

when you’re taking nap in the bedroom, he quietly come and laying beside you

softly caressing your cheeks lovingly as he stares at your face

“thank you for small gift, i love u baby”

young k confess as his heart fulls of loves towards you and your unborn child

as for the 2nd trimester

both of you getting excited as the baby keep on growing everyday

young k will keep on kissing your belly

“younghyun!! it’s tiCKLES!!!” you shrieked happily as he keep on planting kisses

“I NEED TO SHOWER OUR BABY WITH MY LOVES” young k said as big smiles never left his lips

when the gender is reveal

young k couldn’t stop talking about it

“i’m so gonna teach him how to play bass later. i’m finally have male partner in this family. we goNNA DO SO MANY THINGS LATER”

“what about me?? i’m not gonna let you guys have fun without me” you asked, jokingly feels offended

“OF COURSE YOU NEED TO JOIN US!! MY WIFE IS THE BEST CHEERLEADER OUT THERE!!”

both of you will starts discussing regarding the baby preparations

“do you think we need to buy shoes?”

“babe, our son is still a small baby. how can he walks as soon as he come out”

your remarks makes both of you chuckles in response

when you felt your legs getting cramp at night

young k always be prepared

essentials oil is beside him at the night stand

he would bought extra pillows just for you

because you been complaining how your back needs extra support

when your son first kick

young k hands mindlessly rubs your belly

when young k is hugging your from behind as both of you watching a movie on the television

both of you immediately look at each other when you guys felt the kicking

“did u felt that??” your eyes bulging in shock

“y-yes” young stutters as both of you carefully felt the kicking again

“that’s our son’s kicking??” he confusedly asked

“i guess so??” you said

“baby, it’s me, your dad” young k said, rubbing your belly softly

with that, your son kick upon hearing young k’s voice

“HE HEARD ME!!” young k excitedly said

so whenever young k have chance, he will have a small talk with his son

your son actively kicking when young k keep on asking

“aren’t you sleepy?” kick “ahh, i see you didn’t felt sleepy yet”

“do like mummy or dad more?” kick “you like me more, i see”

as for the 3rd trimester

young k getting worried about your conditions

as he needs to travel abroad for his tour

your son is fully developed in your belly

making you even hard to move or do chores

“are you sure you don’t want to come along this time?”

young k asked before he leave the house

“yes. i’m totally okay with it. besides, my due is at the end of this month. and you will be back one week before right? so everything gonna be okay.”

when young k is abroad, he makes sure to facetime you almost every hours

“what’s with the long face baby? did something happened today?”

young k concernedly asked when he saw you’re pouting and didn’t talk much over the screen

“i didn’t look pretty. i’m gain too much weight during this 3rd trimester. my clothes didn’t even fit me anymore. what if you don’t love me anymore :((”

you said, avoiding looking at young k as you rubs your belly

“hey hey, look at here” young k said as you slowly makes eyes contact with him—eyes glistening with tears “the fact that you are carrying our child alone is so amazing and i’m thankful for having you as my wife, mummy to our son. you look even more pretty now, it’s like, you’re glowing. i’ll love you no matter what happens, okay? i love you, you know that?”

young k soothe you, assuring you that he will always stays by your side

when the time comes!!

luckily your mom stays with you when young k is not around

so when you feel the contractions, your mum immediately calls the ambulance to take you

however, young k didn’t know that you gonna be in labour room soon

as he still in his flight with his phone sets in flight mode

so you had to go inside the labour room alone—without your husband by your side

about an hour and half passed in the labour room,

you could felt your energy decreasing from pushing your son

“younghyun, i need you, please...”

without your husband, you felt helpless

“doctor, i can’t push anymore”

you weakly said, throwing your head on the bed

with that, you heard the door being open and soon, young k is by your side

as his breath seems unsteady as if he just runs to the hospital

“i’m sorry baby i didn’t came here faster. i’m here with you now. can you please try again, for me and our son?”

young persuades you, pressing kisses on your temple as his hand tightly held onto yours

as he keeps on whispering encouragement words in your ears

with a few pushes, you could hear your son’s cries echoes throughout the room

you shed tears upon hearing that—feeling relieved that you have safely given birth on your son

relieved sighs left young k’s lips as both of his important people in his life are safe now

“thank god” young k mutters

as the nurse hand over your son towards him

his lips never fails to thank you for bringing his son to this world

“he’s so perfect” you whispered as your son softly stirring in the bundle of baby blankets that covers him

“he is and I’m so proud and thankful to you. Thank you for being my wife and mother to our son. i love you honey”

young k watched you lovingly as you give your son his first milk after being born

his heart swells with happiness and love when he looks at his two favorite people in this world

two people that complete his little world <333

138 notes · View notes

astrolynnworld · 3 months

Text

aftercare

pairing: chris x reader

summary: chris makes it up to you after you confess that you’re not a fan of the sex you just had

warnings: fluff! care, love, romance, praise, reassurance

a/n- here’s the requested chris version 🫡🫡

word count: 512

deep pants fill the void of silence

chris places light kisses against my temple as he rolls over next to me

“how was that baby?” he questions

i stare at him silently trying to find the words that gently tell him how i’m not really a huge fan over the whole degrading scene play

chris was for sure a switch and i loved when he dominated me but he wanted to try something new today

i never deny new fantasies, and most of the time i also end up enjoying them. but this time was different, it was too aggressive

“baby?” he speaks again

“hm?” i hum

“what are your thoughts?” he re-asks

“uhm.. i- .. i don’t think i really enjoy degrading..” i hesitate softly

“that’s completely fine baby!” he responds

“you sure?” i confuse

“yeah! i would never be mad if you’re not into something. plus i only just wanted to try it, its not a huge factor in sex for me” he confesses before pulling me in for a hug

i hug back silently.

“i appreciate you for even giving it a chance. you didn’t have too and i love that you try new things just for me” he goes on

“yeah.. i just try keep an open mind in life. never knock it til you try it” i uttered back

“here let me take care of you” he says before hopping of the bed

i watch him roam around the room as he tries to me the scenery romantic

i watch as he turns on the led lights to red, lights the few candles i bought him for christmas, and turn on the tv to netflix

when he hops back into bed he opens the doordash app and hands me to the food to choose what i want to eat

“chris.. you dont hav-“ i start

“it’s fine baby, i promise its not about that. i just want to spend time with you in other aspects” he cuts in

i sigh lightheartedly and turn my attention back to the phone to choose what to eat

after i choose my meal, i pass the phone back to him and head to the bathroom to pee and clean myself up

when i come back i see him click on my netflix account choose the first movie that i had on my list

i smile at his consideration before i climb back into bed

we cuddle in and watch the first 30 minutes of the movie before we hear the doorbell to indicate that our food has arrived

chris goes to answer the door as i stay back to continue watching the movie

when he comes back he places the food on the end of the bed as we sit up and start to indulge in our food

“i love the little moments with you y/n. you mean so much more to me than you know” chris confesses

“chris i love you so much” i say before leaning in for a kiss

to which he completes

“i love you more, princess”

———————————————————————

taglist: @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @tropicasturn <333

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saeyoungs-sunflower · 3 years

Note

what’s it like raising a baby kitten from 2 weeks with jumin?

The cobwebs have been cleared. Let’s do this🥰

Jumin with a kitten is the PERFECT place to start. Thank you so much anon for the request and your unbelievable patience. I’m so sorry this took so long, I hope you enjoy it💕

Jumin and MC raising a kitten

♚ so you were gardening when it started to rain

♚ you had packed up your stuff and headed for the house, but just when you were about to shut the door behind you, you heard a familiar voice calling for you to hold it open

♚ it was Jumin running up the path towards you

♚ and he was absolutely soaking wet

♚ we all know he pulled that look off though let’s not lie to ourselves here

♚ “Jumin?! What are you doing?”

♚ “I decided to walk home today and got caught in the storm.”

♚ “Why didn’t you call Driver Kim?”

♚ “I didn’t want to frighten her.”

♚ “…her?”

♚ it was then that you noticed Jumin’s hand under his jacket, as he revealed the tiniest black kitten from underneath

♚ bring home the bacon more like bring home the kitten am i right

♚ that made literally no sense i am sorry

♚ Jumin had a little glisten in his eye as he looked at the lil kitty

♚ “She was all on her own crying next to a trashcan in an alleyway, I couldn’t just leave her.”

♚ Jumin looks like he’s about to cry I repeat JUMIN LOOKS LIKE HE’S ABOUT TO CRY MAYDAY MAYDAY

♚ SOFT MAN HAN IS HERE GRAB THE BUBBLE WRAP IT’S TIME TO PROTECC

♚ you both went inside and got the kitty some food and patted her down with a towel

♚ and of course you had put Elizabeth 3rd in a different room because you are responsible adults

♚ proud of you <3

♚ Jumin called the vet and they arrived within minutes #justrichpeoplethings

♚ they did a check up and all that jazz and the kitty was confirmed to be a stray

♚ Jumin would literally not let go of this cat lmao

♚ so once all the necessary procedures had taken place you two were ready to raise the kitty as your own a w

♚ you called her Elizabeth 4th

♚ i’m kidding lol could you imagine

♚ You called her Danbi which means “long-awaited rain” or “sweet rain after a long drought” because Jumin found her in the rain and idk it’s just cute okay

♚ Danbi was much more playful than Elizabeth, but they radiated sibling energy from the moment they met

♚ Elizabeth is such a good big sister aw🥰

♚ it obvs took a little while for Danbi to warm up to everyone but when she did she adored you all

♚ like you don’t quite understand she was so affectionate and just in love with her new life

♚ and you and Jumin were in love with your new lives as full time cat parents so it’s good vibes all round!!

♚ it’s honestly so cute guys i cannot express this enough. like when you and Jumin are sat on the couch you each get a cat on your lap it’s so wholesome

♚ before Danbi, there was always a bit of ~tension~ when Elizabeth would choose one of you over the other, but now you both get a kitty!

♚ you get a kitty and you get a kitty everybody gets a kitty!!!

♚ cue Jumin requesting a family portrait of you and your cat children

♚ let the man be extra every once in a while yeah?

♚ just discovered it’s ‘once IN a while’ not ‘once AND a while’ wow the more you know

♚ the first one makes so much more sense i big dumb

♚ anyway

♚ Jumin love kitty and kitty love Jumin

♚ and ofc kitty love you

♚ love all around <3

♚ she really completed the family and watching the scared lil kitty turn into playful happy kitty was the best thing to witness

♚ welcome to the Han family little one <333

Thank you again for such a wholesome request, anon!! Take care of yourself and have a lovely day!! xx

Masterlist

#KITTY #mystic messenger headcanons #mystic messenger #jumin han #mm jumin #mysme jumin #mysme #my writing

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moonlit-mizukage · 3 years

Text

Chapter three: Satori, you are such a fucking idiot

Summary: Y/n and Tendou are deeply in love. Living on the other side of Tokyo now, the Monsters are still up to their old shit. They even opened a few businesses for Tax reasons. Even though it’s been almost three years later, Y/n still has never been able to understand how they have avoided the law several times. When Tendou’s Mother reappears in his life, Y/n is confused as Tendou claimed she is dead. Finding out Tendou is being forced to take over the family business by his Mother, she soon learns the truth behind Tendou’s reason he never gets in legal trouble is his family business. His mother is quick to decline Y/n as his future wife and tries to set up Tendou with someone she sees more fit. What will happen to Y/n and Tendou? What will happen to Tendou’s “family business”? What does this mean for the future of the Monsters?

Tw: Swearing, mentions of violence, selling medication, blackmail, hacking, drinking

Word count: 1.1k

Taglist Open! Send an ask or dm to be added!

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Third person pov

The guys had gone back home around 1am, as Mei had passed out on the couch in Yamaguchi’s arms.

The Monsters arrived back at their house quickly. Suna and Kenma had now joined the group. They gathered in the kitchen as they sat around the table.

“So what was the super important thing that the other two can’t know about yet? Kemna asked.

“He said just y/n for now.” Shirabu said from the doorway in the kitchen.

“Oh shit, must be pretty damn serious then.” Suna whispered to Kenma.

After Shirabu had sat down things had gone quiet for a moment. Tendou looked around at the three new faces there.

“My mother found me. There is no easy way for me to say this but,” He took a deep breath.”She runs the South side Yakuza.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Shirabu spoke up.

“We have three days to let her know what we think. I have no choice, kyotani joined already as well. You guys do not have too but I would suggest leaving town if you want out. Once you are in, death really is the only way out. “ Tendou said.

“I thought about it a lot while we were at the hangout tonight, I’m in.” Terushima said.

“Hell yeah fucker!” Kyotani said as he bro hugged him.

“You guys don’t have to decide right away. So please think about it and just let me know by Tuesday at noon.” Tendou said. He stood up at this point and left the table. Kyotani followed close behind him.

“Are you really going to join Teru?” Hanamaki asked.

“What do I have to lose man? You guys at this table, plus Y/n, that’s the only family I got now. I want to stay loyal to them, those two guys as well have been there for me for so long.” Matsukawa looked over to him.

“I think I will say yes after I deal with something real quick.” He stood up and left the room.

“What are you guys thinking?” Terushima nodded towards the three newest members.

“I want to talk to Y/n, but I know Tendou has to do that as a one on one first. I really need to think about it first.”

“I just need to sleep on it. I guess it’s basically what we do now but on a much bigger scale. I think sleep will help me feel more comfortable instead of just saying yes now and regretting it later.” Suna said.

“I would have to set some ground rules. For one I don’t do physical activities and I refuse to work in the field. I am not the strongest but I do have a lot of hacking experience and I am good at what I do.” Kenma admitted.

“I am sure a hacker would be needed. You have mad skills Kenma, but yeah let’s talk to Tendou. His dinner is Monday with y/n. He will probably power text out after to see what everyone feels or for a meeting.” Terushima said.

“Are you seriously considering it Kenma?” Hanamaki asked, Kenma shrugged at him.

“Why are you backing out Maki?” Shirabu stepped in asking him.

“You guys are all new to this lifestyle, you know? Is this something you want to spend the rest of your life doing?”

“Honestly I was just going to seduce a CEO then steal their company and make my assistant run it for the rest of my life anyways. A dream life of riches right there.” Suna said. Terushima laughed a bit at his response.

“Dude that’s actually pretty smart. I see why you are a business major now.” Terushima said.

“Honestly, I was just going to hack something big and probably blackmail my way to the top as well.” Kenma said with another shrug.

“You babies are growing up so fast.” Terushima said, pretending to wipe tears from his eyes. “Just yesterday you were just two teens on campus, today you are ready to swipe billion dollar companies.” Shirabu laughed.

“The only thing I was going to do was be a doctor, but maybe working with you guys would be better. I still have quite some time to go, but I do have a lot of medications if you need it.” Terushima laughed again. \

“You really are swinging in the big league already, I just don’t think you realised how close you really are.”

Meanwhile upstairs…..

Tendou sat behind the desk as he looked down at his hands. :

“Just rip the bandaid off and say it the fuck now.” Kyotani said.

“It’s not that easy telling my one true love, hey I get to kill people for a living now!” Kyotani sat in the chair in front of him.

“She definitely already knows what type of man you are. Look at us back in highschool. We were fighting people, hell you shattered Oikawa’s leg with a bat!”

“I know, But Kentaro,” Tendou took a deep breath, “I don’t know what she will do, maybe she will leave me... Maybe it would be better that way, at least I would know she’s safe.”

“You are a fucking idiot. I bet you she’s going to give you that look she makes when she thinks, then 10 minutes later jump into your arms and tell you she fucking loves you and I will call you a fucking idiot but you two will be fucking fine.”

“I am not sure this is the lifestyle she would want to live.”

“Satori, you are such a fucking idiot.” He smacked the back of Tendou’s head.

“What the hell mad?!??!” Tendou snapped as he stood up.

“Do you not pay attention to her and her own fucking monster pack at her mother fucking school!”

“I guess I didn’t think about that. She really did recruit them all, and she leads them when I am not around.”

“Y/n was also the one that destroyed 7 cars in a parking lot cause a guy cat called her and she couldn’t remember which one it was.”

“Matsukawa needs to stop giving people bats for their birthday.” Tendou said now with a laugh.

“Let’s fucking go drinking. We could use peace at mind for a couple more hours fucker. It will make things easier when you tell her.”

The two walked down stairs as Matsukawa was now reentering the house.

“The fuck you do?” Tendou asked him. Matsukawa stood in front of them, covered in fresh blood. His bat still in his right hand, also covered in blood.

“I was playing baseball.” Matsukawa said with a laugh.

______________________________________________________________

An: Really seeing a soft side of Tendou for y/n 🥺

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#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu mafia #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #tendou smau #tendou x y/n #tendou x you #tendou x reader #tendou mafia

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cotccotc · 4 years

Note

You need to write something abt pink hair hyunjin pls 💕💕😭😭 anything I just want them to talk about his pink hair 😩✌🏽

good idea... hah. hah.

┈┈ 𝟐:𝟐𝟕 𝐚𝐦 ➷ “𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒌” ➷ 𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧

❑ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 (@leeknows-selfies ♥︎)

☆ genre/s: fluff, established relationship, hyunjin x neutral!reader

☆ warnings: none!

☆ ask blurb, ~900 words (i got carried aWaY AHH)

☆ a/n: pink hair hyunjin takes up 100% of my mind’s capacity rent-free :D also… i keep getting distracted from my other requests skfjgf i’m so sorry but i’ve been a bit busy lately :(( hwang hyunjin is the only exception to my commitments 😤

☆ tags: @magglesx

⁀➷｡༶⋆˙⊹

with the album repackage coming up as well as rehearsals for a comeback, your boyfriend’s schedule has been even more hectic than normal lately. in fact, oftentimes he’ll arrive to your apartment in the early morning and have to get up and go back to work in a matter of hours. however, he always cuts out time to see you, which usually means staying over at your place and cuddling throughout the sparse amount of night time he receives.

obviously, this has become your favorite part of the day.

currently, you’re laying on your couch browsing through the apps on your phone. hyunjin could walk through the door any minute. he has a spare key, meaning that if you’re ever unable to stay up and wait for him, he can simply walk right in and slump down into bed beside you for some much needed relaxation. he always says you don’t have to stay up for him, but you don’t listen. he’s so amazing with you, why not be the same for him as well?

suddenly, you get a text from hyunjin.

and another.

and another, and another and another.

𝒋𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 <𝟑 ~

babyyyy

baby

babe

don’t fall asleep yet!

bub

smol bean

boo thang

𝐲𝐨𝐮 ~

w u t

𝒋𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 <𝟑 ~

i have a surprise for u hehe

𝐲𝐨𝐮 ~

ooh

what is it!!

𝒋𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 <𝟑 ~

…

do u even know how a surprise works?

smh

𝐲𝐨𝐮 ~

i’m SoRrY

𝒋𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 <𝟑 ~

it’s ok. i forgive u 😌

ok guess

𝐲𝐨𝐮 ~

but you just--

o k a y f i n e

did u buy me something?

𝒋𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 <𝟑 ~

but i should. adding that to my to-do list

𝐲𝐨𝐮 ~

ahhhh stop itttt ( as u should )

ur shoot was today!! did u get a cool part?

𝒋𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 <𝟑 ~

~yes~ but that’s not the ~point~

𝐲𝐨𝐮 ~

does it have something to do with ur outfit?

OMG are u finally letting me steal one of ur outfits from a shoot

took u long enough

𝒋𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 <𝟑 ~

n O

but it does have to do with my appearance…

𝐲𝐨𝐮 ~

wait

don’t tell me

they didn’t--

d i d t h e y c u t y o u r h a i r

for context, your boyfriend’s hair is one of your favorite things about his appearance. you love the length, as it’s perfect to play with and run your fingers through if he (or you) had a bad day or just need to relax. and, as for the color, you think the blonde suits him well. it was definitely a risky move, but it totally paid off for you and for the fans.

𝒋𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 <𝟑 ~

no no no don’t worry

not yet at least 😳

but ur getting warmer… 😏

i’ll be home in a sec. no more guesses!

𝐲𝐨𝐮 ~

AHH

ok ok ok

see u soon <333

𝒋𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 <𝟑 ~

i love u baby :)

𝐲𝐨𝐮 ~

i love u too, ‘boo thang’.

*smooch*

𝒋𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 <𝟑 ~

ahhhh ur so cute jdfjdj

𝐲𝐨𝐮 ~

tehehe

moments later, you hear hyunjin’s signature door knock: three quick, gentle taps. why is it his signature knock? because he’s scared of hitting the door too hard like the very first time, of course. he always knocks first to let you know it isn’t just some stranger barging into your house. it was his idea.

eagerly springing up from your seat on the couch, you can’t wait for him to open the door, so you take matters into your own hands. you unlatch the lock and tear the door open. hyunjin almost trips, as he was fiddling with his keys to open the door just as you did it yourself. he looks up at you, startled.

oh my god.

you place your hand over your mouth as your eyes involuntarily widen. as if he could get even more gorgeous than he was before, your boyfriend stands before you with pink. hair.

“so…” he says with a smirk, “you like?” he places his palms under his chin and acts cute, opening his mouth playfully. he then goes through a series of poses, including peace signs and moody eye-rolls.

“yes!” you reply. and you’re telling the truth. the rosy pink hue matches his bubbly personality, while also remaining muted and subtle. also, his makeup is still on from the shoot. a similar blush shade, mixed with a pop of burgundy, coats his eyelids. the makeup makes the hair stand out even more, complimenting it perfectly. he just looks… perfect.

you usher him through the doorway, after which he greets you with a peck on the lips. you shut the door and continue to sink into his hands’ grip on your waist. immediately, your first instinct is to run your fingers through his newly dyed hair. as you do so, hyunjin shuts his eyes and parts his plump lips (which you notice are also tinted a faint shade of pink).

“it’s so pretty, jinnie,” you comment.

“i know, right? i didn’t love the idea at first, but all of the staff told me to go for it. and here we are.” he opens his eyes again, looking down at you. “i’m happy you like it.” he seems so genuine, his voice turning a bit serious and more intimate.

“i’m happy you’re happy,” you return with a giggle.

he makes a disgusted facial expression at you. “yuck. too lovey-dovey.”

“you’re the one who looks like cupid’s hot older brother,” you retort.

“...so you think i’m hot?” he smirks again, pinching your sides.

you roll your eyes. duh.

⁀➷｡༶⋆˙⊹

#ask v ☆#re: leeknows-selfies #skzwriternet #districtninewriters #inkidz #*fics #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #skz #hyunjin imagines #in生 #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #hyunjin fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff

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zelzenik · 3 years

Note

hi i read your latest oneshot on ao3 about izumi discovering her fire so my prompt is kinda based on that : izumi and/or kya meeting azula and/or ozai. btw i love your boarding school fic a lot 💕(i'm very sorry that the name of the fic escapes me rn)

omg hi!! thank u so much for this prompt! i hope i did it justice <333 i’m glad that u’ve been enjoying on my honor as well ^~^

to read this over on ao3, click here!

“Mommy?” Golden eyes peer up at her, so beautifully similar to Zuko’s.

Katara’s hands are held on either side, and she glances down at her eldest daughter with a soft smile. “Yes, Zumi?”

“Is Daddy visiting Aunt Zula today?” the little girl questions, brows furrowed and a pout on her lip. Tugging on Katara’s hand, she’s slowed down considerably, losing the skip in her step.

“Yes,” Katara replies simply. “Daddy’s visiting Aunt Azula today. So are we.” Somehow, no matter how many years have gone by, she struggles with the fact that Azula shares the same roof as her husband and two precious girls. Sometimes, all she can remember is the way Azula aimed a slender finger at her, shooting crackling blue lightning right at her chest. She can remember the desperation in Zuko’s eyes as he leaped in front of her, taking the sizzling electricity straight to his heart. Despite Katara’s healing touch, there’s a web of scar tissue where the lightning hit Zuko’s chest, and he wears it proudly, a symbol of the deep love he has for her.

Still, Zuko’s provided a refuge for his younger sister. When all was said and done, she stood trial and was found guilty of multiple war crimes of various severity, but she was only a young girl, just fourteen years old. Her deteriorating mental state called for close, careful attention, and Zuko, shouldering the weight of a crumbling nation, held on to her too. She was the only family he had left, apart from Katara and his friends.

Placed in the wing farthest from their little family, Azula spends most of her time in her quarters with an occasional visit from Zuko or her therapist. Katara’s always imagined that it must be a lonely existence, but Azula merely bats her concerns away. She doesn’t visit much with the children, mostly because Zuko isn’t sure how Azula will react to them. She and Zuko have decided, though, that they’d like their girls to have the opportunity to know their aunt, regardless of their own unease.

They’re approaching Azula’s wing now, and the halls are strangely empty. No servants linger here, and there’s a stark lack of the furnishings that make a place feel like home. Katara notes this all, thinking on how she might make the wing more comfortable for Zuko’s sister. Little Kya, now able to toddle around on her own, breaks free from Katara’s grasp, going as fast as her chubby legs can carry her.

“Kya!” Izumi calls, running after her baby sister. Her dark curls fly behind her, and she catches her sister’s hand, gripping it as they arrive at Azula’s chambers.

Izumi takes charge, knocking on the door with a solid fist. A babbling Kya, always watching her big sister, attempts to copy her, banging on the door with unbridled delight.

The door swings open, and Azula arches a brow at the two little girls standing before her. “Well, what do we have here?” she muses, mostly to herself.

Never afraid, Izumi furrows her brows, holding onto Kya with a determined protectiveness. “We’re your cousins!”

“Cousins?” Azula questions, shooting a dry look at Katara. “I’m fairly sure I only have nieces.” She taps her nails against the doorframe, glancing briefly at Katara’s carefully concealed midriff. “Unless…”

Katara returns the look measuredly, cutting off that train of thought, “Azula.” She resists the urge to fold her fingers over her midsection, instead pushing past Azula and ushering her children into the room.

“So you’ve finally decided to visit me, sister in law,” Azula notes cooly, returning to her seat on a plush couch. “I don’t believe I’ve even met the smaller one.” Her golden eyes flicker dully as she watches Izumi and Kya play together on the floor with a cautious interest. “She’s a waterbender, isn’t she?”

Still barely stringing sentences together, Kya is blissfully unaware of her element and doesn’t yet understand its call to her. She giggles in unabashed glee as Izumi tickles her, rolling onto the carpet and kicking her legs uncontrollably.

“Yes,” Katara says shortly, sitting on a small couch across from Azula.

“Good,” Azula muses. “That one needs someone who’ll keep her on her toes,” she says, now watching as Izumi twirls a thin ribbon of fire in front of her sister. “Unless, of course…” She shoots another pointed look at Katara’s middle.

Katara can’t stop the flush that paints her cheeks. “Izumi, no bending indoors,” she scolds instead, not wanting to see Azula’s carpets go up in flames. “Where’s Zuko?” she turns back to her sister in law.

Folding her hands behind her neck, Azula yawns lightly, still perched upon her sofa, legs crossed and feet dangling. “A new shipment arrived today, and there was something in it for me so Zuzu went to go get it.” Her attention is then drawn to Kya who’s gotten into the jar of Azula’s paint brushes. Quick to her feet, she makes her way to Kya’s side, whisking the brushes away and placing them back onto a table close by. “I was painting before your father arrived,” she explains to the children before Katara has the chance to scold Kya. “Would you like to paint with me?” she then asks, uncharacteristically gentle.

At Izumi’s enthusiastic squeal and Kya’s excited babbling, Azula seems to soften, and she rummages through a stack of canvases, searching for a blank one. Draping a tarp on the carpeted floor, she sets up shop there, Izumi and Kya sidling up to her on either side. She hands them both a brush, laying out small canisters of paint.

“Are you okay with them using your paints, Azula?” Katara asks carefully. With Sokka, playing with Izumi and Kya is commonplace; whenever he visits the palace, he never fails to toss their small forms over his shoulders, swinging them around and provoking uncontrollable shrieks of laughter. The girls have never had this experience with their aunt, mostly due to Azula’s supposed indifference toward them.

Showing Kya how to hold her brush properly, Azula meets Katara’s gaze levelly. “Are you, Katara?” Then, she returns her attention back to Kya who’s enthusiastically whacking her brush against the canvas, scattering splotches of green across the painting. “That’s a fine technique, Kya,” she says. Her tone is a bit dry, almost sarcastic, but Katara can see a curious glimmer slowly flickering to life in Azula’s eyes.

A shadow appears in the doorway, and Katara stands to cross the room and meet her husband. He sets a wrapped parcel on a nearby desk as she slips under his arm comfortably, nestling close to his warmth and pressing a hand to his chest where she knows the tangle of scar tissue remains.

Eventually, Kya loses interest in the painting, dropping her brush against the canvas and crawling over to a seat; she pulls her tiny body up to a standing position, bouncing excitedly with her blue eyes sparkling.

Izumi, though, watches Azula with eager interest, attempting to copy the way her aunt flicks her paintbrush at the wrist and creates sweeping arcs across the canvas, splotchy curtesy of Kya.

Katara never thought she’d see this… Azula looking down on her nieces with so much love in her golden eyes. Beneath her hand, Zuko’s heart picks up in speed, and she looks up at him, noticing the tears prickling in the corners of his eyes.

When Kya takes her first few stumbling steps toward her aunt, clutching at Azula’s robes, Zuko clings to Katara, and she can feel the choking sob as it builds in him. Wordlessly, Katara draws even closer to him, leaning against his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist.

She knows that their children are blessed with many aunts and uncles… Sokka with his boisterous roughhousing, Suki with her kind smiles and exciting tales of adventures, Toph with her earthbending abilities and sculpting skills, Aang with his sweeping winds and easy laughter… even Ty Lee, ever the acrobat, is a wonder with the kids. But she’s seen the way Zuko watches them, a hint of pain always hidden away along with thoughts of his own little sister.

So when Azula, sitting primly on the floor, cautiously allowing her toddling niece to tug at her loose strands of dark hair, looks up at her older brother and his wife, a curious mist invading her golden eyes, Katara offers her a smile, gentleness overtaking her features. With Katara’s silent approval, Azula seems more at ease, no longer shying away from Izumi and wrapping a hesitant arm around the little girl. Moments later, Kya’s in her arms too, one slobbery fist in her mouth and another in her aunt’s hair.

Zuko opens a mouth to speak, tears shining in his eyes, but Azula cuts him off, “Don’t you say a word, Zuzu.” She attempts to glower at him, but her glare falls flat when it’s apparent that tears are also sparkling in her own molten gaze.

So Katara remains nestled in Zuko’s arms as Izumi throws her arms around Azula, unabashedly declaring, “I love you, Auntie Zula.”

The look in Azula’s eyes at that proclamation could truly melt even the coldest of hearts.